Outside The Box

16/09/2026

I’m ridiculously excited to share this with you all this morning! 🥹🎉

Over the last few months I’ve been quietly working my way through what has probably been one of the most intensive, challenging and informative courses I’ve done in a long time…

And I’ve officially completed my 3rd Age Woman Menopause Transition Certification! 🎓💪

There are LOADS of “menopause courses” out there, and I spent a long time deciding which one I wanted to do. I didn’t want a quick CPD where you watch a few videos, tick some boxes and add another certificate to the wall. I wanted to properly understand what is happening to women during this stage of life, and, most importantly, what we can actually do about it.

And I am SO glad I chose this one.

This was very much a “here is alllllll the science… and now here’s WHY it matters” kind of course. 😂

I’ve learned from experts in the field, worked my way through a frankly terrifying amount of information, research and statistics, and come away with an even bigger appreciation of just how important this stage of a woman’s life is.

Because menopause isn’t simply hot flushes and periods stopping.

We’re talking about muscle. Bone. Cardiovascular health. Metabolic health. Pelvic health. Brain health. Nutrition. Recovery. Sleep. Stress. Hormones. Strength. Quality of life. And how we want to live for the next 30, 40, 50+ years.

And yes, some of the statistics were scary.

But something Jenny said throughout the course really stuck with me: these are the statistics when we don’t make changes.

And THAT is the bit I’m excited about.

We can’t stop ageing. We can’t control every risk factor. And we certainly can’t promise that lifting a dumbbell will magically fix menopause.

But there is so much we can influence.

We can get stronger.
We can protect our bones.
We can build and preserve muscle.
We can fuel ourselves properly.
We can improve balance, mobility and cardiovascular fitness.
We can understand what is happening to our bodies instead of being frightened or ashamed of them.

And we can stop treating women in midlife as though becoming weaker, frailer and less capable is simply something they have to accept.

That is exactly what Outside The Box was built for.

So I’m incredibly proud to add this qualification to everything I already bring to OTB, and even more excited about how much of what I’ve learned is going to start sneaking into our PT sessions and Strong For Life classes. 😏

My poor OTB crew have absolutely no idea what’s coming. 😂💪

We’re growing older. We’re not going quietly. And we’re getting bloody strong while we do it. ❤️

13/09/2026

Great North Run Run Report

I woke up at 5am.

Pure panic.

What am I doing? Why am I here? Who the hell do I think I am doing this?

Just the usual bu****it my brain likes to do.

So I stayed in bed for a bit before packing and repacking my run vest/bag — if you read yesterday’s post, you’ll know this had already been done 😂 — made a coffee, then another, then another.

S**t. Food.

I had porridge. Made it. One mouthful. 🤢

Great. Okay. I’ll deal with that later.

8am very quickly crept around, so run bag in hand I went to torment Caroline and wait for our taxi, where we kidnapped — sorry, ran into — two other runners and convinced them to timeshare our taxi and come with us.

Taxi to the Metro. Onto a very crowded Metro. Swapped places with the bloke we’d kidnapped because my short arse couldn’t reach the overhead handle.

Asked Caroline where we were getting off, much to the amusement of pretty much everyone around us, who assured me that when EVERYONE got off, I should probably get off too.

I mean… fair point 😂

We got off, rode the world’s longest escalator upwards and then once again followed random runners until we somehow ended up at our start area at about 8:45.

Yes, I’m fully aware we didn’t start running until around 12.

I’d love to see you arrange the logistics of getting there 😂

So we sat. We chilled. We once again questioned every decision that had led us to this point.

We used the female urinals — FU***NG GENIUS, by the way, and they should be implemented everywhere. And this is coming from the sensory-hell queen.

Then the wave before ours was announced and told to start heading towards their area, so we decided we’d walk over to their side because it would probably be quieter.

So WHY WAS OUR GATE FU***NG OPEN AND PEOPLE GOING THROUGH?!

F**k.

Okay. Don’t panic.

We headed down and thus began what felt like the walk to the underworld.

We walked.

And walked.

And walked.

My Garmin had clocked almost 7,000 steps before we’d even bloody started.

We went past the start, past the previous waves and eventually entered our pen.

And this was the bit I’d been terrified about.

Everyone had said, “Oh, don’t worry, the crowds and people will get you through!”

But I have AuDHD plus other s**t, and crowds are not good.

So we got in, headed to the side and I started faffing with my stuff when a woman immediately just… took my space.

Like seriously, does she not know that every human has an invisible barrier around them AND YOU DO NOT ENTER IT?!

No?

That’s the tism?

How the f**k do neurotypicals cope?

So now I’m pi**ed off, squashed, and my Garmin is proudly announcing that I have an abnormal heart rate.

Excellent. Everything is going beautifully 😂

I tried to chill. I really did.

And to be fair, the rest of the people around us were amazing. A few noticed my fidget otter and asked about it, and everyone was particularly appreciative when my tism-induced need to constantly look around meant I spotted the Red Arrows approaching well before everyone else, giving us time to whip our phones out.

As each wave in front of us went, we shuffled forwards and, because we’d got into the pen early, we actually crossed the start line at around 12.

Caroline and I lost each other pretty much immediately.

But it was okay.

My Jeffing intervals were set to 60:30, but I’d gone in with every intention of running by feel. And, as has happened before, there was absolutely no way in hell I could get my run intervals to the speed I wanted because there were just too many people.

So I had a choice.

Spend the next 20-odd kilometres pi**ed off because I couldn’t run the race I’d planned…

Or accept that this was NOT going to be a PB course, adapt and do what I could.

So that’s what I chose.

I ran my speed when I could. When I couldn’t, I sometimes skipped the walk interval and ran for two minutes instead, then walked.

Even then, it was slower than I wanted.

Also:

HOW THE F**K IS IT ALL UPHILL?!

Seriously.

I swear, apart from one very tiny bit towards the end that went down, the entire f**king run was uphill. The only thing that changed was how much uphill it was.

I’d also been worried about the crowds. Everyone had said, “The crowd will get you through!” and honestly, in my head, that sounded worse rather than better.

In reality?

The crowd. 🥰🥰🥰

I thought Chester was good. This was another level.

People reading your name and shouting for you. Sweets. Drinks. Hilarious signs. Music. People cheering absolutely everyone.

It genuinely was amazing.

Except one thing.

I appreciate that the small spawn want their high-five moment, but KEEP YOUR FU***NG CROTCH GOBLINS OFF THE MAIN ROUTE.

I do not want to be dodging a feral five-year-old with melted Haribo stuck to his hands. 🤢

The race itself was good.

I went out too fast.

No bloody surprise there.

I brought it back and settled in, at which point my left calf decided it had a complaint.

Excuse me? Who the f**k are you and why have you decided to join in?

It was rapidly joined by my lower back, right hip and then, of course, good old right knee popped in to say hello.

I don’t know whether it was the constant incline, lack of a proper warm-up, or the fact I’d been so tense before the start, but pretty much my entire lower body was protesting.

In typical Sarah fashion, I downed some more codeine and paracetamol, told everything to shut up and carried on.

And don’t even ask me about the blister. 🤢

But somehow, the kilometres kept ticking by.

Breathing? Fine.

Upper body? Fine.

Lower body? Not good, but functional.

The crowds of runners got worse as people became tired and started slowing or walking, so I had zero chance of getting through anywhere.

Plus…

MORE FU***NG HILLS.

Eventually we turned a corner and—

THE SEA!!!!!

Down a very steep hill — sorry, knee — and onto the prom, where once again the support was phenomenal.

Although, seriously, BACK THE F**K UP AND LET THE RUNNERS THROUGH.

WHY ARE YOU ON THE ROAD?!

Then began what can only be described as a time warp in which the advertised 800m somehow became approximately 5km.

I don’t know how.

I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

And then…

The finish was in sight.

Now, I’m a little annoyed about this bit.

Because I sprinted the finish.

And I mean sprinted.

Fast. Strong. And for quite a long way.

Which means I clearly had a s**tload left.

And that means there was a s**tload I hadn’t been able to use earlier because of the crowds/course/general chaos.

But whatever.

I crossed that line strong and happy.

And that matters more.

Then, because apparently completing a half marathon isn’t enough, they made us walk approximately seventeen additional miles — only a slight exaggeration — to collect our medals and shirts.

I met back up with Caroline and we headed for the baggage buses.

There must be a really sadistic bastard in charge of post-race logistics because please tell me WHY THE BUSES WERE AT THE BOTTOM OF A FLIGHT OF STAIRS?! 😂😂

Bags acquired, I got changed and we found somewhere quiet to chill and crack open the first cans of w**e.

After a while we decided to head back towards the action/celebration — but not too close because, you know, people — and sat on a hill overlooking the party tent with a few more drinks.

Eventually we decided we were starving, so headed to the food vans for a snack.

Then it started getting chilly and we decided enough of the masses had hopefully disappeared that we stood a reasonable chance of getting back to the hotel.

Our phones — and Uber — had other ideas.

I had charge but no signal.

Caroline had signal but no charge.

Between us, we had approximately one functioning phone 😂

She had enough battery to discover Uber wanted £75 to get us back to the hotel.

Absolutely f**king not.

So we started walking.

We spotted someone with a map, obviously accosted them so I could take a quick photo of it, and decided to start heading vaguely in the direction of the closest Metro.

As we walked, I kept trying taxis/Uber and FINALLY my phone connected.

About ten minutes into the walk, Uber suddenly dropped to £20.

SCREW IT. BOOK IT.

Nineteen minutes later, we were on our way back to the hotel.

Once there, Caroline grabbed a charger cable so we could order Domino’s, we bought a bottle of Prosecco and settled in.

Then one of the guys we’d shared the taxi with that morning arrived back and joined us.

There’s nothing particularly exciting to report from here except:

Two pizzas.

Chicken wings.

Two bottles of Prosecco.

Another runner joining us.

A lot of laughter.

And repeatedly putting the world to rights.

By about 9:45, though, my body had clearly decided I’d ignored its complaints for long enough and it was officially payback time.

Which leads us to now.

In bed.

My run bag unceremoniously dumped on the floor.

My medal and badge taking pride of place with my stuffy.

And me trying to type a run report after several cans of w**e and two bottles of Prosecco have been circulating around the table.

Overall?

It was an amazing day.

Not at all what I expected.

Yes, the crowds made parts of the actual running frustrating.

Yes, basically everything below my waist eventually submitted a formal complaint.

Yes, apparently Newcastle and South Shields have somehow discovered a way to make 13.1 miles almost entirely uphill.

But everyone was right about one thing.

The people really did make it.

The runners. The spectators. The volunteers. The random people shouting my name. The people handing out sweets. The people I met before and after. Caroline. The random runners we kidnapped into taxis and then ended up drinking Prosecco with later.

I went into it terrified of the crowds.

I came out of it thinking they were one of the best parts.

And apparently somewhere between the hills, the sensory overload, the blister, the angry knee, the Haribo-covered children and the Prosecco…

I may have already entered next year’s ballot. 😂

Because obviously that is the sensible conclusion to this story.

12/09/2026

GNR pre-run run review!

Readers of my main blog, I apologise for three in a row, but it’s GNR Eve and all was still, not a thing stirred, not even a… wait. Wrong month.

So, it’s the eve of the event that past Sarah thought would be a stupendous idea and current Sarah feels she definitely got the stupid part right!

It seemed best to do a quick pre-run blog because I’m not entirely sure if I’ll manage one tomorrow, and that’s got absolutely nothing to do with the several cans of w**e currently sitting in my run bag for after the race 😂

So, just a quick one!

I got up at about 5am and then spent THREE HOURS fighting with Garmin, who had decided that no, I could not in fact programme an entire half marathon’s individual intervals because it refused to save over 100 steps/repeats.

So I had to figure out how to activate the run/walk feature and set that instead, then programme the watch faces I wanted etc.

After that, ChatGPT and I made an absolutely banging playlist.

It was now about 9am.

I hadn’t packed a single f**king thing.

And I still had to go to the pharmacy and supermarket to grab some last bits.

Amazing use of my time 😂

So I hustled and proceeded to pack one suitcase, one hold-all and one backpack because, of course, I need four pairs of shorts, three T-shirts, a vest, a waterproof running jacket, a normal running jacket, far too many pairs of socks and un**es and a couple of sports bras.

…how far am I running again?

Into the run bag went nine gels 😂, several ViDrate sachets, Deep Freeze, ibuprofen gel, painkillers, KT tape, headphones, a charge bank, tissues and a Shewee.

Don’t judge me.

In the hold-all are enough snacks to fuel a preschool disco, a suspicious number of w**e cans, water and, of course, coffee.

There’s also various other random s**te that was obviously essential.

Finished packing, ran and got my errands done, came home, ate cake, drank coffee and chilled until Caroline came to pick me up.

I thought she’d laugh at the amount I’d packed.

Turns out we were on exactly the same wavelength!!!

The next three or four hours consisted of lots of gossiping, a munchie run to M&S, a ridiculous amount of nerves and basically repeatedly telling each other, “We’ll be fine.”

We also played Spot the Runner on the motorway, which is a bit like Spot the Strava Wa**er, but faster.

We got to the hotel and the lady on reception promptly informed us that our plan for getting to the start in the morning was, essentially, a bit s**t and wouldn’t work. So she’s booked us a taxi to get to the Metro station instead.

We retreated to our rooms, where I immediately emptied the entire contents of my bags onto the bed because I knew that if I sat down, I wouldn’t get back up.

I then spent an hour moving things from one place to another — and, in some cases, back again — until I was reasonably happy that I was set for the morning.

Caroline then joined me in my room for more gossip before we headed down for some food.

Now, I bet you’re thinking:

I’m sure they had a lovely, relaxing dinner.

Nope.

We walk in and there’s a full-on BRIDE in a wedding dress.

There’s a piano that has magically appeared, with some dude bashing out s**t renditions of pop songs.

It’s a full-on f**king wedding party.

In the restaurant.

We hesitantly go to reception to ask if this is actually the right place.

Oh yes, they assure us.

Don’t worry! The wedding will be gone soon! They’re just “turning the wedding room around” to add the dance floor and then everyone will go back in there.

Right then.

So there’s a full-on wedding in the ONLY restaurant on the eve of the GNR, when a hotel full of hungry runners want food, and it didn’t cross anyone’s mind to separate the dining room — which very clearly COULD be split into two separate parts?

Nope.

Instead, they apparently expected us and the other non-wedding guests to just randomly sit amongst the wedding party while the Temu concerto was still bashing away, there was a f**king magician doing the rounds and everyone was pi**ed.

Now, I was pi**ed.

Just unfortunately not the alcohol-fuelled type.

We found a table and ordered. The waitress seemed genuinely flustered on our behalf.

They’d put on a special “GNR pasta menu”, although I’m now suspicious that the wedding was actually pasta-themed and this was just the spare 😂

But anyway, I had bolognese and it was alright. Made a nice change from a ready meal or packet of crisps.

About halfway through dinner, the dance floor opened and the wedding party disappeared.

But, tbh, it was too late.

I was in pure sensory overload and even Caroline had managed to bite one of her nails.

We both admitted we were shattered, said goodnight and headed back to our rooms, which is where I’ve been ever since.

It won’t surprise you to know that I then LOST the little stuffy I brought with me.

I turned the room upside down.

I repacked ALL THE BAGS.

And then found the little sod under a pillow.

The same pillow I had checked when I first realised it was missing!!!!

Room tidied AGAIN, I had a bath in possibly the longest, deepest bath I’ve ever been in.

I also made the mistake of opening the chocolate cornflake clusters.

Every time I walk past the desk, I grab one.

I’ve done about 5,000 steps in the last hour and there are only two left.

Oops.

And now I’m in bed and…

I don’t think I like it.

I genuinely can’t remember the last time I slept truly alone, with no animals or children.

Yes, the bed is enormous and ridiculously squishy.

But it’s quiet.

And empty.

I’ve put the aircon on just for some noise.

And now I’m going to attempt to get some sleep.

Our taxi is booked for 8am.

Tomorrow, past Sarah’s stupendous idea becomes current Sarah’s problem.

Wish me luck. 😂

12/09/2026

Less than 24 hours to go!! Thank you for all you’re support so far 🥰🥰

Help Sarah Storey raise money to support Cats Protection

11/09/2026

🎉 Outside The Box is officially ONE! 🎉

What started with a slightly wild idea has grown into the most incredible, supportive community, and we’re celebrating with two birthday treats:

💪 30% off six 1:1 Personal Training sessions
🎁 A completely FREE Strong For Life class pass

Choose one or claim both, there’s no purchase necessary for the free class.

If you’ve been curious about OTB but haven’t quite dared to take that first step, this is your sign. Expect friendly faces, plenty of adaptations, absolutely no judgement and the occasional swear word. 😂

Claim your offer here:
🌈 www.otb-coaching.com/birthday

Available throughout September.

10/09/2026

Only 3 days to go 🤢 not that I’m spiralling into a complete AuDHD puddle 😂 if you haven’t already could you please consider sponsoring me, I’m so close to my target and that would give me one less thing to panic over 🥰🥰🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

Help Sarah Storey raise money to support Cats Protection

08/09/2026

💪 Here’s what’s on at OTB this week!

If you’ve been wondering what all the fuss is about and fancy trying our now slightly infamous Strong For Life class, we’ve got a couple of spaces available this week 👀

Just drop me a message and we’ll get you booked in for a try.

So… what actually IS Strong For Life?

Strong For Life is an inclusive, neuroaware functional fitness class for women who refuse to get older without a fight. 💪🔥

We lift things.
We carry things.
We push, pull, balance, squat, hinge and generally train our bodies to keep doing all the stuff we want them to do for as long as bloody possible.

There are always options and adaptations, because there’s no expectation that everybody in the room should move in exactly the same way.

We laugh a lot.
We lift heavy things.
We celebrate each other’s wins.
We occasionally swear.
And absolutely nobody is expected to “keep up”. ❤️

No punishment. No bootcamp bu****it. No judgement.

Just a brilliant bunch of women getting stronger, more capable and more confident together.

We are not ageing quietly. 💪😈

07/09/2026

Only 6 days until future me has to deal with the consequences of past me 😂 I’d be really grateful if you could sponsor me for the wonder Cats Protection

Help Sarah Storey raise money to support Cats Protection

06/09/2026

Great North Run next week, so obviously it’s time to start carb loading. Prosecco is made from grapes. Grapes are carbs. Science. 🥂🏃‍♀️

06/09/2026

🚨 CLIENT SHOUT OUT 🚨

Huge Congratulations to Lucy 🥰🥰

This message absolutely made my day 🥰

Today one of my PT ladies went out to run the Women’s 10K with one goal, sub 1:05.

She ran 1:04:26.

AND got a shiny new 10K PB in the process. 💪🔥

I’m ridiculously proud of her, but I also want to use this as a little reminder about something we talk about a LOT at OTB:

If you want to become a better runner, you can’t just run.

Successful running is a chain.

🏃‍♀️ Time on your feet builds your running fitness, endurance and confidence.
🍌 Good nutrition and fuelling gives your body the energy to train, perform and recover.
🏋️‍♀️ Running-specific strength work builds the framework that has to cope with all those miles.

Take one of those links away and eventually the chain starts to struggle.

Strength training isn’t something runners do instead of running, and it isn’t just about lifting heavy things for the sake of it. We work on things like single-leg strength, calves, glutes, hamstrings, core, balance, stability and control, because running is basically thousands of repeated single-leg landings, which is quite rude when you think about it 😂

And this is exactly why her PT programme doesn’t just involve making her generally stronger. We include exercises specifically chosen to support her running alongside the work she’s putting in out on the road.

The result?

A very happy runner, a 1:04:26 10K, and a bloody well-deserved PB. 🥳💪

Massive congratulations, you absolutely smashed it. ❤️

Run. Fuel. Strengthen. Recover. Repeat.

Strong runners aren’t built by running alone.