This Girl Needs To Run 

Remember our trip to Crusoe’s in Tynemouth for breakfast (if not here’s a cheeky plug at the post Cruising The Coast To Crusoe’s)?

And how we went to the Royal Quays afterwards where (sadly) the hubster didn’t get his football boots (for anyone who is overly concerned about this and his football career, he did come home with some last night. He was match ready for that all-important Tuesday night 5-aside kick-about-skive-out-of-the-house.  Not forgetting that Sunday Morning league. But hey – he probably  needs a different type of boot for that. What do I know).

Well, we had a venture to the DW Sports Store as a last resort in search of said football boots.

While the OH wheeled Ella over to the footy boots, I sauntered over to the women’s trainers. On the guise that, although my current pair fit, they’re a little snug and thus prohibiting any attempt at running this damn cake weight off, I started trying on running trainers.

In the middle of doing long strides along the wall of trainers in my second pair, a bloke from the shop asked if I needed any assistance. Other than a miracle cure to melt cake fat, I smiled and said I was OK and just trying different styles of running trainers. I obviously looked as clueless as I felt amongst the ‘cushion’ and ‘support’ footwear.

So it went a bit like this (not the exact words but from what I recall and artistic licence, here’s what went down).

‘Why don’t I get one of the girls to do you a pronation assessment?’

A what? Hmmm why not?

‘We get you to run on the treadmill and film it, slowing down the footage to assess your feet’

That’s why not.

A) Running in the middle of a shop in my skinny jeans and a vest top that’s slightly too low for this activity. The jacket that would hide my modesty would need to be discarded for practicality

B) My fat ass would be on film – slowed down so every ripple and lump could bounce and wobble in spectacular fashion

‘It’s free.’

Why the hell not? I’m always making up excuses that I don’t have the right footwear and here’s my opportunity.

So I took it.

One of the shop assistants came over. She went through a form for me to sign and we discussed taking two shots; one in a pair of support trainers with cushioned insoles and another with just cushioned trainers. I signed the form. There was no going back now.

First pair of cushioned trainers strapped on and the jacket tossed aside, the OH rocks up with the pushchair in tow, looking rather bemused. His unsuccessful attempt at locating any football boots was quickly forgotten about when I explained what I was about to do.

It took everything in him not to film this torture and the fact that he had to walk away on the pretence he wasn’t going to watch so I  wasn’t put off meant he was pissing himself laughing. He blatantly perched himself behind the trainer stand and witnessed the entire humiliation.

Take one and I got the speed up, shouted ready and then ran for about eight seconds.  Yes, that’s all – they only needed a five second shot anyway. Thank God.

I got off and went to join two assistants (yes another had turned up to witness my atrocity) who were stood behind the treadmill studying a computer.

A computer that had my whole backside slowed down, my ass swishing and swooshing all over the place. I wasn’t paying any attention to the ‘pronation’ discussion initially as I was horrified at the fact that my one and only pair of skinny jeans made my legs look like sausages wrapped in elastic bands. Why did no-one tell me?

Stuff it.

I’ll just have to suffer a few weeks more.  I desperately need a whole new wardrobe for Autumn. After maternity clothing and then wearing to death any summer clothes that are flattering, I’m looking forward to a change in season. Hopefully these trainers will turn me into Jessica Ennis-Hill and I’ll lose those last few pesky pounds. Then I’m raiding H&M.

Back to the pronation. Here’s a link to the Runner’s World website with video clips and a better explanation than I could ever offer if you’re interested.

I was diagnosed with ‘Under Pronation’ – an insufficient inward roll of the foot after landing. This places extra stress  on the outside part of the foot. In short – I do need cushioned shoes with support.

Take two and I’m trying on support shoes with an in-sole cushioning. My feet feel strong – like they could run a marathon (let’s not get carried away – they feel like they can run).

This time I completely ignored the ass swooshing and focused on my feet looking stronger in the video.

By now I was feeling confident and asked the most bizarre request – could I run with the cushioned shoe on one foot and the support and cushioned in-sole on the other. You know, just to compare them.

Which I did despite the amused look on the assistant’s face.

It sealed the deal and I made my choice; support with cushioned in-soles.


I bought my New Balance Support trainers. I mean, I’m not too crazy about the look as there was a pair that I thought looked so much better. But these do the job.

Now to put them into action.

I was scouring Facebook and came across a post from Blyth Valley Children’s Centre advertising a running group in Cramlington where you can take your buggy. Perfect!

The group is These Girls Can Run and it’s ran by a lovely lady called Kim. They hold sessions every Mon, Wed and Friday morning at 9.30 for the buggy and baby brigade. They also do evening sessions at 7.30. It’s £2 and you meet at Northburn Sports and Community Centre.

These girls can run

Image from These Girls Can Run Website


I was apprehensive as I haven’t done anything like this in my life, let alone with a baby in tow. I contacted Kim and she was amazing. I explained I had a buggy and I’m not a very good runner at all. She encouraged me to come along and tagged a fellow buggy runner in the post so I had a familiar face to meet on arrival.

The night before, the route was posted up on Facebook. Luckily I used to live in Cramlington so I had an idea of the route although my memory is not particularly great at the moment. No sweat, I’ll probably be last so I can follow everyone else.

Kim was actually off the day but Adele took the group instead. She was just as nice and even brought her dog along too. In total there were three of us with buggies, one of which was a double one, a solo runner who was also beginning and Adele and her dog. The route was 3 miles and the weather was wet but slightly humid.

For someone who is awful at running, I did pretty impressive by my standards to do a mile and a half without stopping. We all have to start somewhere and this group is really supportive for that. Funnily enough, I found it easier pushing a buggy, especially alternating using one hand to push and the other arm for momentum (or whatever the terminology is).

At one point I was alone – I was in the middle of the pack but couldn’t see anyone in front or behind, so I kept going the way I thought I should be going. I forgot to set my phone as well to track the distance and I don’t own a fitbit boohoo.

There was a part of the route where you could do another loop if you wanted to. I didn’t (surprise surprise). Little steps though.

I got back to base and we did some cool down stretches. It was then, to my horror, I realised my top was inside out. Argh! It could only happen to me! In my defence I’d thrown it on under a long-sleeved top thinking it looked cooler than it was outside, not paying attention in my usual mad-dash rush to get out of the house. Never mind.

I loved my first session with the group – I learned some breathing techniques and I found running in a pack is way better for your morale than out there alone. I think Ella enjoyed it too – the look on her face when she woke up mid-run to see my panting, beetroot-red face was priceless. But she’s used to this crack, I’ve been to many a buggy bootcamp now.

I’ll definitely be back – I missed this Monday with it being the Bank Hol but with a choice of Wed and Friday as well I’m sure I can fit it in around all the baby groups.

A photo by Morgan Sessions.

How I imagine I look when I’m running – wistful and graceful haha! Image from Unsplash

This girl wearing an inside out top can and will run. I refuse to have sausages-in-lacky-band-legs any longer.


Love Missuswolf xxx






Cruising the Coast to Crusoe’s 


Another Saturday morning and another Wilford adventure in search of a local haunt to stuff our faces.

I was originally booked onto two exercise classes at Xercise4less (trying to escape for a couple of hours me-time and leave the baba with the hubby, see how he likes it. Payback for when he sods off to football on a Sunday morning) but when I woke up, that flipping mam guilt voice told me we ought to do something as a family.

So, sounding like I was doing him a favour, I suggested I skip the classes and we all go out for breakfast (again!) I know, I know – I had an opportunity to escape and I didn’t take it. I’m sure I’ll regret it when he’s off to yet another NUFC match (eye roll).

Surprisingly, we arrived at a decision really quickly (which doesn’t happen often in our household – especially over what to eat and where).Turns out hubby wanted to visit The Royal Quays outlet in North Shields to have a look in the Nike store for some football boots. I struggled to think of somewhere near there to go so when he suggested we go to Crusoe’s in Tynemouth en route, I agreed. Wow.

Crusoe’s is on the beach overlooking the sand and the sea down from The img_0353Grand Hotel (where we had our wedding reception nearly nine years ago. Crikey it’s our ten year wedding anniversary next year eeek! I want to go back to Vegas to celebrate – minus a child in tow. He doesn’t. I’ve got a year to work on him plus I’m open to babysitting offers – please apply within).
Before I go any further – I know I’m not the most maternal of folk but I do want to add a ‘P.S I love my child’ in here. Despite the underlying moan tone I have on this blog toward little people – it is all in jest and I do have a heart.

I’ve cried twice this weekend; once (well numerous times actually) at the story, picture and video of five-year old Omran Daqneesh injured in the airstrike at Aleppo. I’m sure I’m amongst millions of parents who hugged their children a little bit tighter that night. His little dazed face and lack of tears are harrowing at how he accepts this as a way of a life; no emotion other than the sheepish look when he wipes his bloody hand on the chair after touching his little injured head. Totally and utterly heart breaking.

The other time was at a heart wrenching story that I came across on Instagram yesterday morning that I just can’t get out of my head.

Michelle and Andy Cottle experienced the stillbirth of their daughter, Orla, back in May. They’re cycling from Vancouver to the Mexican border in San Diego to raise funds for the Stillbirth and Neonatal Death charity (SANDS). I can’t begin to imagine the pain they are going through but the strength they’re showing is incredible and inspiring. They’re website is called Dear Orla and you can read more about it and follow their journey here. They both do a brave video (which you can also view on the website – have plenty of tissues handy!!) where they tell their story #CyclingForOrla. You can also donate here.

It puts everything in perspective and is all the more reason to spend time together as a family. I know I am lucky and I am thankful for what I’ve got.

Back to Saturday morning and after cruising along the coast from Blyth, we parked opposite Tynemouth Park again and walked img_0386down. We imagepassed an early morning running club – a brutal reminder that I’d ditched my own morning of exercise in favour of food. Ooops. Oh well, I’m trying out a buggy running club today so I’m hoping that redeems me. Should be interesting!

We both had bacon sarnies; I had my usual filter coffee and he had his usual diet coke. So predictable. I spied a gingerbread latte on the menu and made a mental note to return nearer Christmas for this festive tipple ummmm.

I’ve been to Crusoe’s once before and it was every bit as beautiful as Iimage remember; cosy and welcoming with it’s wooden furniture and twinkly lights giving it an almost festive feel. This was heightened by the slight autumnal chill on Saturday morning; grey skies and drizzle meant cardies had been replaced with coats. Otherwise we would have opted for outdoor dining.


Of course, nosy parker Ella couldn’t resist snapping up a perfect people-watching opportunity so out of her pram she came, perched on the table, catching the eye of a young couple across the room. I’m bias but she has such an infectious smile and she was bestowing it upon anyone who would take notice.

After breakfast, we walked back to the car and headed off to Royal Quays. Hubby didn’t get his football boots but I got myself some running trainers.


Yep, you read right running trainers.

But that experience is a whole blog post in itself.

As is the trip to Jesmond Dene we did afterwards.

So keep toot for those.

Love Missuswolf xxx