So, I Went To Paris The Other Day...


I’d never been before so I was really excited not only to visit the city but to run my second half marathon there. Boob, Fonz and I left London at Stupid O'Clock in the morning. But doing so meant we got to Paris nice and early. Big Sissy joined us later in the day and we made our way to our cute little apartment.

We stayed right next to the Pompidou Centre, which was great as there was lots to see and LOTS of places to eat, like aaaah ma gaaaarsh! The creperies! *wipes drool from mouth* My waistline expanded because of staying here to be honest. I got back home and it was a struggle to get my legs in my disco pants, as if they aren’t tight enough already.

We done all the touristical (don’t correct my vocab) things and visited all the touristical places, except Montmarte actually; I really wanted to go there. Nevertheless, we got around town a fair bit and I was quite excited to know I was around whilst fashion week was on. But, wha gwan for the Metro tickets though? Why are they so small? The amount of times I almost lost that thang…

As per, race day had me feeling nervous. I thought back to my first half marathon and how hard the last couple of miles were, wondering whether or not this race would be the same. Not to mention the hills that we were warned about. I had company for Amsterdam half. This time I had no plan to run with anyone. Just me…that was until I saw Missy Elles Belles…then all of a sudden Green Pen turned into mini Greyhound Pen. It was nice to see some familiar faces. 

I remember spending the first 10 or 15 minutes worrying about Big Sissy. She’s preggars you see. She was on her own, God knows where, probably trying to find her way to the course to try and see me; her morning sickness is really bad, so all I could think about was her being sick or having some mad excitable French man barge her.

Oh Em Jee. Guys just casj had their willy winkles out creating a river of pee on the sidelines. To be fair though I didn’t catch a glimpse of a toilet, only at the end. BUT CAM AAARRRRN! There were kids about!

25 minutes in - CRASH!

Not me though. My phone. Ting just bruck up on the floor. The way I was scrambling like a mad woman to try and pick it up without creating an M25-like pile up. That was probably the scariest part of the race for me, I honestly thought I was gonna get knocked over.

I really enjoyed the route, I even quite liked the burn of powering up the hills (South London hills in training made me cry, so that was a surprise). It was nice to just relax into my stride and not be overly concerned about how quick I was going or when it was going to finish. I just wanted to make it to 18km to see the cheer squad. I swear you cannot and should not underestimate the power of cheering and encouraging people through a race. Until you have done it at both ends, that is, running and seeing your friends cheer for you and supporting and cheering your friends as they run, you will not truly understand how much of an uplifting feeling it is. All I remember is Jay shouting like a mad man through the megaphone ting it was hilarious! Gunfingers up with a beaming smile, cheer dem crew knew I was ok. It was a surprise to see Bridget, Rosie and Darkz too, who all came out to support the crew. That’s lurve.

By this point I knew I was so close to the end. People were drunk-walking, face grimaced with the pain. So I made my own one-woman cheer crew. I patted people on the back, clapped them along, slowed to talk to some guy who looked like he was about to keel over, even ran with him for a little while. I was feeling it too but refused to let it get the better of me. This was MY race. I didn’t train through the Winter, snow and rain to let it get the better of me now.

One thing I will say though. Race organisers. Fam. Why did you lot put the balloon arch up, just confusing nuff people, making them think it’s the finish line?! Why would you do that?! I ran my heart out to that point thinking it was over! Just to realise it wasn’t?! That really hurt my heart guys!

The final stretch. I keep pushing and pushing. I see Lawrence on the way, hi5s and smiles and I see Charlie too; I was shouting and waving like a crazy woman, but I didn’t care I was happy! 13 miles partly ran with a group of friends and on my own and it felt good.

Props to the lemon tea that the volunteers were handing out after. I’m not really a tea lover, but I’m most definitely a lemon tea lover. I might have even went back for seconds….

I waited for Big Sissy, Boob and Fonz to meet me at the end.I was a little sad I didn’t catch a glimpse of them on my journey to be honest. After all they did come all the way to Paris for me. But as soon as I saw them, following race day tradition I cried. LAWL. I can’t even explain why I was crying this time. It was just an overwhelming feeling. I think it’s all the “well done, you did it” talk; it’s at that point that it sinks in what you actually achieved. Some people aren’t keen driving 13 miles let alone run it. Plus I guess the fact that I’m the biggest cry baby contributed to me wailing like a lost kid.

Obv we partied hard after. For some reason I didn’t bring heels with me as normal, but I threw down my style same way and celebrated with my friends…Man did I have fun!

Thanks to everyone who played a part in the Bridge The Gap weekend, those who ran, those who cheered and those who celebrated. And special shout to my dance partner, the Russian with the bowtie, anyone know who he is? We had some serious fun ha!