WHY I RUN WITH LOU

Published: 12/03/2026 | Written by: Alex Courbat | Photography by: Adam Horton

Lou Skinner didn't set out to become a runner. As a personal trainer who's built her career around barbells, deadlifts and the kind of strength work that makes a gym feel like home, pounding the pavements was never really part of the plan. But somewhere along the way something clicked, and she found her pace. This is Lou’s story – the story of why she runs.

Growing up in North London, Lou's earliest memory of running wasn't on a track or a treadmill. It was sprinting down Muswell Hill as a kid, absolutely flying. "It's not hard because the hill's quite steep, so it'll take you," she says, "but I would run really, really fast." As a child, she was glued to the Olympics, watching track athletes on television and quietly dreaming of being one of them. "I wanted to be a sprinter. I felt like that's what my body is designed to do – that fast-paced, explosive movement." Life had other plans for Lou, but that flicker of wanting to be a track athlete? It never fully went out.

Actually, it reignited a few years ago when Lou was living in Stanmore and found herself doing track sessions for the first time as an adult. "The first couple of sessions, I would come back and the next day my body would be in absolute bits – my hips, my abdomen, my glutes, my legs. In bits." She laughs, shaking her head. "But I loved it. I loved the fact that I could run really fast. I'd be out of breath, dying by the end of the track, but I would run so fast and it was just amazing." When she moved out of the area and the track sessions stopped, she felt it. Still, she didn’t want to give up running.

But Lou’s running journey hasn’t been a straightforward road – and she’s the first to say so. For a long time, she struggled with the one thing runners tend to rave about most: the mental reset, that mythical head-clearing run people talk about. And she just didn't get it. "I don't understand when people say they go for a run to clear their mind," she says, eyes wide. "How?! I would get maybe 500 metres down the road and the number of things I'd already thought about – I'm just like, how is it clearing your head?" The voice in her head was relentless, and in the early days, it could be brutal. Comparisons to faster runners, self-doubt about carrying serious muscle mass that isn't exactly built for distance. "I'm not a slim girl. I lift a lot of weight, so I'm quite heavy when it comes to muscle. It's all good having muscle, but you've got to carry that on your run – and it's hard." She tried every tip going. Running without music. Different playlists. Different routes. "It's your own journey, right? You've just got to try and silence that negative voice."

The shift, when it finally came, was less about pace or mileage and more about giving herself permission to just get on with it. She stopped comparing herself to every runner who blew past her and started treating her journey as exactly that – hers. "I had to tell myself: I'm not training for the Olympics. This is my journey, not anyone else's. Just be consistent – because if you get inside your head and you don't do that run, you're setting yourself back further and further. Just go out." The results followed, slowly and then undeniably. "It might take me 8, 9, 10, 12 minutes to hit a kilometre – it doesn't matter! You hit a kilometre and you get better. Your body does adjust. It's just taken me a long time, but I'm here now and I feel good about it." And then, the moment she'd been waiting for: actually wanting to run. "I'm at the point where I think, I want to go for a run – not I want to go lift 100kg. I actually want to go for a run. That has been the biggest shift."

Part of what's driven that shift is the people around her – including some unexpected ones. As a PT, Lou has started weaving running into her client sessions, beginning with a gym workout and finishing with a lap around the block, building it up week by week. What happened next genuinely caught her off guard. "Seeing how great they've done and how well they've progressed has really inspired me. We've shared this journey together – it's been amazing." Some of her clients had never run before. Some had never imagined themselves as runners. And yet there they are, smashing out kilometres and asking for more. "They're doing great and I'm like, okay – I've got to do better. I've got to run faster, run longer, get another run in, because I am meant to be their leader!" She laughs, then catches herself. "But I also have to remember – we've all got our own journey."

At home, her three-year-old son has become her most enthusiastic supporter, full stop. He's completely clocked what his mum does now, and he is here for it. When Lou heads out, he shouts after her: "Run, run, run!" "I'm showing him that running is a thing," she says, beaming, "and that he can run. I want him to be sporty. I don't want to be one of those parents who pushes their dreams onto their child – but I want him to be active. And I want him to look up to me. I want him to think, that's my mum. She runs." Lou is clear-eyed about what leading by example really means. "I've got a child. I've got to be responsible. I do need to be fitter. Plus – " she grins – "he might only be three, but he can run fast. I need to be able to chase him down."

The next big goal? The London Marathon, not this year though. Too soon. But, it's been on the bucket list for a while – Lou had originally been eyeing Copenhagen first, pulled in by a city she loves and the appeal of doing something a little different. "Every time I open Instagram, someone's doing the London Marathon, the New York Marathon, and I'm just like, I want to be part of that! I want to be involved." But it was also about carving out her own story. "How many people go to Copenhagen to do a marathon? It would just be nice to run with a completely different community."

Regardless of which one will be her first, a marathon is now firmly in her sights, and she's already doing what Lou does best – getting everyone involved. She's already dragged her sister out for her very first run. Her sister, who doesn't go to the gym, doesn't do any exercise, nothing. Four kilometres. "I was just like, go you!" She throws her hands up, delighted. "I'm just trying to get everyone involved. It makes me feel better because I feel like I'm helping people, and in turn they're helping me."

Ask Lou what she'd say to someone who thinks running just isn't for them, and she doesn't miss a beat. "If you're able to do it – do it. Don't pressure yourself. You can jog it, you can walk it. It's not the Olympics." And then she gets a little more personal, a little more fired up, and a little more real. "You are not racing against anyone out there on those roads. You are competing against yourself. Against your own mindset. Against that voice that tells you, I can't do this, I'm not good enough." She pauses, visibly moved. "You've got legs that work. You can do it. You just have to keep beating that voice – and the more you tell yourself you can, the more you're winning. It will change your whole mindset. Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. You will just be a better person."

Coming from someone who spent the first part of her running journey absolutely convinced she wasn't a runner? That means everything.