gratitude

Doing another ultramarathon

| Sheree
Rubus vestitus ( brambles)

I went out walking this evening. After I stuffed my face and got settled down to watch some ultramarathon training videos on YouTube, I thought it would be more benefit to my body to get out and move her.

I tried an ultramarathon last year along the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path. I didn’t complete it because I ran out of time. I was just too slow to complete the 50k / 31 miles within the official timeframe. But I had a grand day out. It was glorious; the weather, the path, the sights and movement. I really enjoyed my day and I wasn’t too fussed about not completing it. I

knew I would try again.

And so it happened. I’d reached out to Into Ultra a couple of years ago for support for getting into ultra. I thought if not just advise then maybe some help financially with the kit and stuff. It hasn’t really happened till now.

They sent around an email offering free places in races coming up this year. And one took my fancy. SheRaces Trail Series Peak District 50K. There’s a 25K also which I know I can complete but it wouldn’t be as much as a challenge as the 50K.

A couple of days ago running coach Hannah Walsh shared a great Instagram post highlighting that just 0.007% of people have run an ultramarathon, and of these 0.0001% are women. That’s a really small number.

25 Jul 2023 . Source

I like the idea of being able to complete an ultramarathon. I’ve completed 4 marathons, the last one being 2022 in Loch Ness.

To be amongst that small percentage of people, never mind women, never mind black women, who have ‘run’ an ultramarathon, is something to aim for.

And of course I’m not going to run it. I will run walk crawl as per usual. But this time, I know what to expect in terms of the pain, the terrain, the challenge, and toll it takes on the body.

I’m in training now. And there’s never enough time to get to my peak. But what is my peak? I’m an aging overweight black woman, but I’ve never felt more like myself and operating on my own terms. So that’s peak for me!

So this is as good a time as ever to give this ultra malarkey another try.

Consistency breeds confidence. This is my mantra. Consistency breeds confidence.

So as long as I get out walking each day build up the time I spend on my feet, I’ll be grand. And whatever else happens, it will be a grand day out!

Saturday 2nd August is the date of the gathering in the Peak District. You’re more than welcome to join me. Cheer me on. Supply the water and midget gems if you want!

Running Scared, No More

| Sheree

Let’s be scared. Let’s demonise people.

This is the message sweeping across countries at the moment, around the world, as we continue to move further to the right in terms of politics and governing people. Suppressing people and voices.

Thinking about my weekend in London at the Defeating Narratives of Division conference hosted by the Ella Baker School of Organising, and coming home to see peaceful protests in L.A. around the over stretching arms of Federal Officials and illegal immigration raids on communities being portrayed as chaos and unruly and needs to be stopped with military force. Trump, man!

What the fuck is happening right now? What false narratives fuelled by fear and intimidation are catching like wildfire and are taking hold? What is happening to democracy and fairness and justice?

I too am scared. I’ve been told by some to have fear and anxiety and start panicking in order to take action. Time is running out. Passing on this narrative of fear is making us on the so-called left no better than those on the right whose fuel is fear.

We have to be pushing back against these fears. Not disallowing them but acknowledging them and choosing to fuel our movement with love and solidarity and joy. We can come together as we have the power and spread a message of love and welcome and togetherness and there is no way that message can be twisted or used against us.

It is plain to see that communities who stand together, even if from different cultures and races and heritages, are powerful and those who are crooked and authoritarian are scared of this. Scared of us taking back our power and saying no, enough!

I’ll be writing more on this in the weeks to come. But for now I just had to mark this moment of disgust at what is happening around the world but how there is much to be celebrating and reinforcing and elevating. Stories of love and solidarity and people taking back their agency and power. Thinking of Burkina Faso here and other African nations who are standing up and saying enough is enough.

But all in good time, and for me ‘good’ time is slow time. Taking the time to bring about lasting change on our own terms.

More to follow.

Writing as resistance, reclamation and ritual

| Sheree

From Eleanor over at The Wildheart Papers:

“This week I’m joined by the inspirational Sheree – writer, creatrix, and space holder – whose work is steeped in ancestral memory, fierce tenderness, and a deep reverence for the wild, both within and around us.

Sheree walks the edge between the personal and political, the sacred and the embodied, calling forth the untold stories that live in Black women’s bodies and lineages. 

In this soul-stirring conversation, we explore:

🌿 Honouring a daily writing practice while moving with the seasons of creativity
🔥 Reclaiming voice – how writing can be both resistance and healing
🖤 The story behind for black birds pushing against glass
🌊 Writing beyond structure, beyond ‘shoulds’ – from a place of truth and essence

This episode is a balm and a call to courage for anyone who longs to write from the wild, rooted place within.

🎧 Tune in now wherever you listen to podcasts or head straight to the Feral Words page.

And don’t forget to explore more of Sheree’s work over at Living Wild Studios – especially her regularly updated blog, which is a rich and reflective companion to her creative work”.

The Current Visual Journal

| Sheree

So I said I would be back to share with you my current visual journal. Coming into the mix at the end of May after a weeks of zero colour, my soul and creativity were craving colour and space. A large space.

So I went back to Flying Tiger and purchased the A3 sketchbook I failed to purchase a couple of weeks before. The paper inside is creamy and reminds me of sugar paper from primary school. It’s a rough and ready kind of texture, rustic and low maintenance. Not too high quality to raise the fear levels of making mistakes or not being quite so perfect.

I’m been enjoying preparing the pages with colour. Throughout my day, I have the journal laid out on the table in the corner of my bedroom and when I walk past, I choose 2, 3 or 4 colours from my collection of little bottles of acrylic paint and make generous dollops on the page.

Then I bring out my trusted old faithful, the disused bank card and smear that paint around. This calms my nerves, stills the worries and brings me joy. I love how the different combinations of paint play out together on the page. It’s a true collaboration.

I know this journal is far too big to be carrying around with me as I go about my business outside: sea swims, coffee meets, trip to London at the moment. But still I carry it with me, enjoying tucking it under my arm or carrying it pressed against my chest.

Sometimes, as happened today, stray streams of paint, still wet and sticky, collect within the seams and edges of the pages, transferring to my fingers, smearing on my coat and t-shirt. Today, it was bright turquoise and sandy brown that ended up on my hands and clothes by the time I reached the metro station to get to Newcastle Central Station. I really couldn’t be annoyed as it goes with the territory. You play with paint and you’re bound to make a mess.

But I don’t care because I feel and know in my heart and gut that I’m making a whole heap of mess within my visual journal because that’s how I make sense, make joy, make a way for me to navigate through this world on my own terms.

Medicine Walk

| Sheree

I was reminded of my connection to the sea today by a stranger. The sea showed up in my work without me knowing so until it was pointed out to me. I thank this fellow poet for their observation as well as holding space for myself and others to break through. More to follow on this experience.