running - Debbie Young's Writing Life

Running in Wonderland (You Can Call Me Alice)

Posted on April 26, 2012July 18, 2016 by Debbie Young

Changing your form of transport now and again is a good idea because if gives you a different perspective on the world around you. I’m always pleasantly surprised when transferring from my Ford Ka to our camper van: it’s like becoming a giant for a day. I can then look down upon walls that towered above my car and discover the secrets usually concealed behind high fences, their owners fondly believing they have private gardens. Pony-trekking has the same effect: I felt like queen of the hedgerows.

Trading four wheels for two is equally refreshing because until you acclimatise to the slower speed of a bicycle, it’s like travelling in slow motion. There’s more time to digest the view on your journey and the fresh air and sensaround smells on a bike ride are much more pleasant than the microclimate of a sealed glass and metal box.

But my favourite way to absorb the local landscape is when I’m running. Invariably I run alone and the solitude means I’m not distracted by passengers’ banter or irritated by their choice of music. Jogging down the familiar country lanes that surround my house, I often notice features that I’d never spot if travelling by other means. Last week, I saw a tiny wren on a branch and a smattering of bluebells breaking through a grassy bank, the earthy smell of new damp grass rising up from beneath my feet.

Once, plodding silently along Sandpits Lane, I caught a flash of taupe out of the corner of my eye. I turned to see what it was and discovered a mountjack deer gazing at me from a field a few metres away. The encounter stopped us both in our tracks and for a moment we breathlessly appraised each other. I felt like Alice in Through the Looking Glass when she meets the Fawn in the wood where things have no names. The Fawn therefore doesn’t know Alice is a girl and so is not afraid of her.

So they walked on together through the wood, Alice with her arms clasped lovingly round the soft neck of the Fawn, till they came out into another open field, and here the Fawn gave a sudden bound into the air, and shook itself free from Alice’s arm. “I’m a Fawn!” it cried out in a voice of delight. “And, dear me! you’re a human child!” A sudden look of alarm came into its beautiful brown eyes, and in another moment it had darted away at full speed.

Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There

The mountjack deer was first to crack in our staring competition and ran off rather faster than I did. Though this chance meeting lasted only seconds, the magic of the moment has stayed with me ever since.

So I was not surprised to experience another David Attenborough moment on Sunday as I notched up a few miles’ running training before lunch. I’d crossed the Bath road to extend my usual route. As I entered new, unfamiliar running territory, a splash of silver and white caught my eye and I looked towards it. There, in the corner of a field, lay a gentle, peaceful unicorn. I gasped. And there was me thinking my deer encounter couldn’t be bettered!

I stood stock still, not wishing to break the spell. I was breathing hard. (Well, I had just run three miles.) Then the oxygen started to return from my leg muscles to my brain and my eyes came into focus. And I realised that of course this wasn’t a unicorn at all, only a pale grey horse having a rest on the ground. It had settled down, legs tucked beneath it, in front of a white picket fence. A stake in the fence had come loose and was hanging free at an angle behind the horse’s head, looking for all the world like a unicorn’s horn. Turning round, I smiled at my own foolishness and resumed my weary trot in the direction of home. Whatever would I come across next? I wondered. I just hoped it wouldn’t be a lion.

(All the illustrations above by John Tenniel, from my favourite book of all time, Lewis Carroll’s Through The Looking Glass And What Alice Found There.)

If you liked this post and enjoy running (and this post), you might like some of my other posts about running:

What Would It Take to Make You Run 10K?

The Best Reason to Run

And if you really, really liked my post, please consider sponsoring my Bristol 10K Run 2012 in aid of diabetes research!

Type 1 diabetes

What Would It Take To Make You Run 10km?

Posted on April 1, 2012July 18, 2016 by Debbie Young

"Elk Bath" – A wildfire on the East ... — Run, Forrest, Run (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Most of us will go through life never having run further than a few laps of the school field (usually under protest). But what would it take to make you run 10km?

advance warning that you’re standing next to a ticking time bomb whose debris will fall within a 9.9999km radius?
a race to pick up a jackpot winning lottery ticket that you know is lying under a stone 10km away?
a fast-moving forest fire that is chasing you towards a river 10km distant?

This may strike you as a hypothetical question – a bit like the old playground favourite, “would you rather run a mile, jump a stile or eat a country pancake?” I remember, in my unathletic childhood, aged about 8, falling for that one and choosing the country pancake – to the mirth of my interrogator, who revealed that “country pancake” is rural slang for cow-pat. (I must say that since I’ve been living in the country, never once have I heard it referred to as such. Though I still might not risk opting for the pancake option on a country pub dessert menu, just in case.)

But I daresay there is a cause somewhere close enough to your heart that might persuade you.

Laura with JDRF mascot Rufus — Laura with JDRF's mascot Rufus Bear - he has coloured felt patches on his body to remind children of the targets for their daily insulin injections.

I know I’ve found mine. In six weeks time, I’ll be running 10km, but not for any of those reasons (well, they’re not part of my plan, anyway). My reason is to raise money and fly the flag for the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation (JDRF). My daughter was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes at the age of 3, and that day our lives changed for ever. Gone were the blissful days of being able to eat what she liked, when she liked. Gone were the low-maintenance days of being able to travel everywhere with a small handbag uncluttered with hypodermics and hypo remedies. (I’d only just got rid of the nappy bag, too.) Gone were the carefree days of visiting hospital only for the usual childhood A&E trips. Getting a doll’s shoe stuck up your nose is a walk in the park compared to the unmissable daily routine of blood tests and injections. Such ailments don’t put you at risk of serious long term complications, either, other than perhaps a fear of tiny footwear and long-handled tweezers.

For now, there is no cure for Type 1 diabetes. We’re stuck with the daily inconvenience, pain and stress of treating the symptoms, and the long-term angst about the eventual effects on her health. It has got easier with time: at least she no longer hides under the kitchen table and sits on her hands when we’re trying to prick her fingers for the blood tests.

But there could be a cure, if enough more money were thrown at the problem. There are many extraordinarily gifted and imaginative scientists who are poised to take their research on to the next step, if only funds permit. That their research is funded and cure found is important not only for my small family, but for the millions of children (and the adults that they become) who are suffering the potentially devastating long-term effects of living with diabetes. And for the many children who die before adulthood because they live in countries where the treatment they require is simply not available or affordable.

If I could cure this terrible disease just by running (and what a strange world that would be), then I’d run and run and never stop till I reached the cure. But at least running the Bristol 10k – and the sponsorship I might raise and the publicity I can attract – will take us a babystep along the road to a permanent solution.

And it beats eating a country pancake any day.

Please click here to sponsor me.

A cowpat - cow dung — Country pancake...

If you enjoyed this post, you might also like The Best Reason to Run.

Or indeed if you need an excuse to eat pancakes, you might like Something to Celebrate!

Personal life

Surprisingly Resolute as the New Year Begins

Posted on January 3, 2012July 18, 2016 by Debbie Young

Debbie Young after the Bristol 10k Race 2011 — Bacofoil - not a flattering look but a welcome comforter after completing the Bristol 10K last year

Feeling sorry for myself during a bout of pre-Christmas flu, I decided I needed something more powerful than paracetamol to tackle my symptoms. So I tried the psychological approach: visualisation. I imagined how I’d feel if I was better. I started to picture myself doing healthy, vigorous things in the open air, in sunny spring weather, quite unlike the raging storms that were beating against my bedroom window.

I discovered I was frighteningly suggestible: before I knew it, I’d reached for my laptop and signed up to run the Bristol 10K next May. This also made a splendid New Year’s Resolution. I coasted into the Christmas festivities with confidence, knowing that I’d soon be running off all those mince pies.

This was a prime example of Janet’s Theory in action – a phenomenon I named after my sister-in-law’s insistence that “the best way to get something done is to do something else”. The most memorable example she gave, in an unguarded moment at a dinner party, was “If you want to get your nails really clean, make pastry”. The apple pie she’d made for pudding suddenly seemed less appetising.

I’ve seen her theory proven many a time. Getting my car valeted provided my husband with a new mobile phone. (The valet found one I’d lost – and replaced – underneath the driver’s seat.) Taking my car to be MOT’d equipped me with a whole new wardrobe. (Killing time while I waited in the high street, I discovered my favourite clothes shop was having a big spring sale). And if I ever want the house spring cleaned, I know exactly what to do: plan a party. That always triggers weeks of scurrying round to get the place respectable before the big day.

So if you have the misfortune to catch a cold this winter, I suggest you give the Lemsip a miss and let your imagination provide the cure. You never know what it might lead to.

I wish you a healthy and happy New Year!

(This post was originally written for the Hawkesbury Parish News, January 2012)

Family, Type 1 diabetes

The Best Reason to Run

Posted on May 15, 2011July 18, 2016 by Debbie Young

While running the Bristol 10K this morning (she says casually), I couldn’t help but be moved by the very many runners in charity t-shirts. They raised money and awareness for a tremendous range of fabulous causes, from the local St Peter’s Hospice (one of the Bristol 10K’s two main charities) to obscurities that I’d never heard of till then – though if I see them again, I’ll be more receptive to their appeals for having seen them in this context.

I love to run, but, like many runners, I need a major race in my diary to make me do it. To train for and complete the Bristol 10K, I needed a formal commitment to a charity that deeply affects my family – the JDRF, dedicated to finding a cure for type 1 diabetes, which my daughter contracted at the age of 3 and my husband in adulthood. When I wavered in my training, my sense of obligation to early sponsors kept me at it. (Aaren Purcell and Bill Chapman, you were the leaders in that race and I thought of you both on every training run.)

Of course, for those who are more naturally athletic, the running is the thing. What keeps them going is the constant striving for a new personal best, the new medal to add to their collection, the smart new race finisher t-shirt to boost their wardrobe of running clothes. Running to them is as blogging is to me: it’s my favourite hobby and I wouldn’t dream of asking anyone to pay me for it. (Though there may be a few who’d gladly pay me to stop…)

But to me, no matter how fulfilling the run, it’s a hugely wasted opportunity if you choose to trek round the route in a top that advertises only your favourite sportswear manufacturer or your last year’s holiday destination. Without a charity emblazoned on it, the runner’s chest is a wasted opportunity – an empty billboard, a bare bus-shelter. There are plenty of charities who will be grateful to you just to fly the flag and raise awareness, even if you’re not able to muster a bit of sponsorship. This simple, effortless act could persuade wavering donors to stump up some cash next time they are asked by that charity. The crowd will cheer you on all the more because of it. And if people then offer you money for the cause, so much the better.

Well, I’ve flown my JDRF flag, and now it’s in the washing machine. If you haven’t sponsored me yet but would like to, please feel free! Here’s the link:

Debbie Young – Helping to Cure Diabetes

Family, Type 1 diabetes

Fourth Anniversary of My Daughter’s Type 1 Diabetes

Posted on May 9, 2011July 18, 2016 by Debbie Young

Laura Young at Puxton Park — My little bunny

Tomorrow my daughter’s diabetes will be four years old.

13 days before Laura’s fourth birthday, on 10th May 2007, I took her to the doctor’s, thinking she had a minor infection. My worst fear was that we’d come away with a course of antibiotics. I wasn’t looking forward to having to make her take a course of tablets. If only we’d got off that lightly!

Instead, we were immediately admitted to hospital as an emergency. The diagnosis: Type 1 diabetes.

“Are you in a fit state to drive?” said the GP as I sobbed silently behind Laura’s back. “If not, I’ll call an ambulance and we’ll blue-light you there.”

Neither of us was being over-dramatic. Without treatment, Laura could have become critically ill within hours – and dead before she could turn 5.

Type 1 or Juvenile Diabetes can strike at any age. My husband Gordon was diagnosed in his 40s. It strikes at random and without cause. It’s not lifestyle related. It’s no-one’s fault.

It’s a death sentence if you don’t take your insulin. And even if you do, it’s a life sentence, because you have to keep taking insulin, every day, for the rest of your life.

Unfortunately, you can’t take insulin as a tablet – it gets broken down by the digestive system before it can get into your blood. So you have to have it administered by injection (typically 4 jabs a day) or via a pump that is permanently attached to you via a canula, 24/7. And you need many blood tests every day, pricking your finger to get a sample, to check that your blood sugar doesn’t go too low (causing horrible short-term hypos) or too high (risking nastly long-term complications). It’s no fun at any age.

We’re lucky: we live in a country with a National Health Service and so Laura and Gordon are kept alive. In many developing countries, diabetes is still be a death sentence.

But there is hope: active research programmes run by the JDRF and other international organisations are on the verge of finding better ways of managing diabetes. They seek easier means of delivering insulin, less invasive ways of monitoring blood sugar, therapies to reduce the long-term health risks. One day, with enough funding, they may be able to prevent and even cure it.

On Sunday 15th May, 8 days before my daughter turns 8, I will be running the Bristol 10K race, raising money for research into a cure. £60 will pay for one hour’s laboratory research by the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation. I’m hoping to raise enough to pay for a whole day’s research: £480.

With enough funds, the day will eventually dawn when Juvenile Diabetes is cured. Please help me hasten the advent of that day. Click here to donate whatever you can spare. No amount is too small. Thank you.