The Training Race has left me feeling grateful. I’m now a few days post-big training race — a major outing before Race Across Scotland. This was the big test day. The chance to put nutrition, hydration, pacing and race strategy into play in a real race environment, on unknown terrain, surrounded by experienced athletes and under proper race pressure. It was also set to be the furthest I had run in my life yet. And honestly? I’m really pleased to say I’ve come away from it to a good place. I nailed all the bits I could and learnt more for the bigger challenge ahead. It was an incredible day. The first half of the course was spectacular. Endless views, rolling trails, moments where you almost forget you’re racing because the scenery is so breathtaking. Considering the forecast, the weather was kind to us too. But eventually the Scottish Highlands reminded us who was in charge. The wind arrived. Then the rain. Then the mist and fog rolled in for the second half and suddenly everything became much tougher. I got cold.I got wet.I got tired. It got very dark. I got lost. But I kept moving forward. With the help of those around me. It’s been a while since I raced. I had forgotten the magic of meeting strangers with a common goal. That you are all just surviving in the thick of it and like life you can choose to make what you can of it. I think this particular race I was fortunate enough to find positive upbeat energy the entire route. Enough to always make me reflect on the vibe I was giving off in the tough and the dark moments. Was I adding darkness or was I adding calm and strength? I hope I was the vibe others needed. I know that at that moment the lovely Holly and I missed a turn and got lost, resulting in another hill, more km to that finish when we had been so close, was SO hard. We both could have lost it but instead we shrugged it off, agreed it was better to be lost in the dark with a stranger than all alone and cracked on to the finish line. I know we were both swearing internally at the extra work it added (that hill was steep) but we both knew neither of us needed that then and we stuck together until the end because at that moment it was the best thing to do. Not letting each other drop pace or energy until that finish line came.

Part 2: Learning to Accept Where I Am I’ve just wrapped up another training block, and if I’m honest… progress feels slow. Not absent — just slower than the version of myself I keep imagining. And with that comes a quiet worry. Will I be ready for the upcoming training race? Even though I remind myself this is a stepping stone to the main event— a training race — it still feels big. Acceptance This block has been about more than running. It’s been about accepting where I am and being honest about what needs to happen next, based on that— which sounds simple but rarely is. It means holding two truths: - I’m not where I want to be yet. - And yet… I’m further than I was. Both are real. Both matter. What Is Going Well It’s easy to obsess over what’s missing, but when I step back, I see progress I’m genuinely proud of. I might be slower than I’d like, but I can still complete a four‑hour session… and then go straight into mum life: No lying down. No switching off. Just stepping right back into being needed. That’s resilience. That’s capacity. And for a 215‑mile race, that might matter more than pace right now. The Cost People Don’t Talk About This block has taken more than miles: - Early mornings — 4am, 5am - Finding babysitters, flying Grandma into town - Planning and replanning with Jess catching school sick bugs and JD having unexpected work trips - Kit and nutrition organisation on repeat. - Gut training (which really isn’t fun). But there’s a quieter cost too: emotional energy. That persistent question: Is this worth the time I’m not spending with JD, Jess, and Bess? Some days, it weighs more heavily than others. Some days, remembering I plan to stand on that start line to show Jess the importance of dreaming big, seems not to fit the moment. And then there’s asking more of my husband — JD- more support, more flexibility, more energy when he’s already stretched. This isn’t just my challenge. My whole family is on this journey with me. The Doubt

Why Taking on Scotland’s Toughest Ultra Is More Than a Race On August 8th 2026, I’ll stand at the start line of the Race Across Scotland 215. That’s 215 miles—an intimidating distance, especially considering that, just last November, I was barely running. I signed up injured, having ignored persistent niggles in my Achilles, hip and back for years. “Manageable” was really just code for overlooked. Recovery didn’t come as easily as it used to, and I found myself more tired than I was willing to admit. Between the demands of business, motherhood, and life, my plate was overflowing. If I’m honest, I’d been coasting just below my true standards. But preparing for this race quickly exposed that. Big challenges don’t simply test your fitness—they force you to stop pretending. Since starting training, my schedule has been packed, and I’ve already learnt more than I expected. The coming months promise plenty of ‘firsts’, reinforcing why stepping up to big challenges is so essential. Diet: “Pretty Well” Isn’t Enough I’ve always claimed to eat “pretty well”, but that doesn’t equate to peak performance. A cheeky midweek glass of wine? It shows up in my heart rate. Skimping on protein? It’s obvious during strength sessions. Under-fuelling? My recovery suffers. When you’re training by heart rate, there’s nowhere to hide—the data doesn’t care about your intentions. Hydration: The Surprising Game-Changer Hydration seemed straightforward—until I realised how little I actually knew. Being slightly under-hydrated makes my cardiac drift spike, makes every effort tougher, and slows my pace and recovery. The more I learn, the clearer it becomes where I’ve previously slipped up. Over 215 miles, poor preparation can’t be outworked. Recovery & Age: No Shortcuts at 41 At 41, there’s no winging it. Sleep, strength, mobility—all non-negotiable. My Garmin Fenix 7 has become less about just tracking pace and more about holding me accountable: HRV, recovery load, hill power, stress. It reflects back exactly what I’ve done (or haven’t done), and some days that feedback stings. If you own a Garmin, you know how brutally honest it can be.