Kris – Humans of Avon and Somerset

The one thing I knew for sure is that I needed to run – to clear my head, think rationally, and be able to support my family as we navigated this path together.

Kris, Detective Superintendent

I joined the Met Police in 2003, after growing up in Cardiff and dreaming of moving up to the big smoke. All I ever wanted was to be a detective. I’ve been fortunate enough to work many different specialisms in my career – from surveillance, to investigating rape and other serious offences. I moved to Avon and Somerset Police after 13 years in London, and am now the Superintendent for vulnerability, leading on domestic violence and the force change programmes. One of the most consistent things in my life, that has helped me get through many highs and lows, is running. 

I had unhealthy ways of dealing with stress when I was growing up, such as not eating enough. I had to learn to prioritise myself to give the best version of me to the other people in my life. During my time at training school, where I had to pass the fitness test, I discovered that running was a great way to switch off my head and actually problem solve at the same time. Even when I was thinking about nothing while out for a run, I would come to the answer of something I’ve been trying to figure out without even realising.   

I gave birth to my son while living in London, and towards the end of my career in the Met I became pregnant with my daughter. I was aware of how far we were from family, and I always aspired to join Avon and Somerset Police, so the time felt right to move to the area in 2016. Not long after I joined, I was faced with an unexpected change in my personal life. My oldest child was diagnosed with a life changing medical condition, which would impact everything he did. While trying to acknowledge this, I found myself in a new police organisation with people I didn’t know. My brain immediately went into panic mode, as our brains love to do – I was constantly thinking of my child, what his diagnosis meant, and how it would affect all our lives going forward. 

However, the response I received was fantastic – people in the organisation were immensely supportive, showing their authenticity and empathy. Outside of work, I knew I needed a healthy outlet to process this change, and so I decided to run the London Marathon. I couldn’t help catastrophising, thinking how difficult my child’s life would become and how many things he wouldn’t be able to do. The one thing I knew for sure is that I needed to run – to clear my head, think rationally, and be able to support my family as we navigated this path together. I wanted to fully commit to the training, so I would have time to process what the future would look like, and I was determined to complete the race.  

I remember crossing the finish line, and if I had had any water left in my body I would’ve cried. I couldn’t, so I pulled lots of funny faces because I was so dehydrated. Getting over the line made me realise I had a powerful side to me, and it helped me acknowledge my own resilience. It would have been so easy to not complete my marathon training because I was working a busy job, had personal commitments and looking after my family. I’m not the fastest runner, I’m never going to win any prizes for speed, but when it gets hard, I will keep going. This resilience along with the support I received meant I was in a better place to process my second child being subsequently diagnosed.   

I’m sure a lot of my colleagues will remember Alan Salmon, who passed away two years ago. I was training for the Cardiff Half Marathon when I heard the news, and it touched me a lot. He was one of the nicest people, who would always drop whatever he was doing to help others. I contacted the team behind Cardiff Half Marathon and asked if we could finish the race for him. Many people across Avon and Somerset Police ran a mile for him, and I collated photos, and the medal awarded to him, in a frame to give to his family. When I was running my portion of the race, he was in my mind, and it felt like such a positive space. I feel there’s such a power in running and sport in general – it brings people together and allows them to be part of something bigger than themselves.  

One of my favourite things about running is that, despite what it may feel like, no one is judging you. In a race, everyone is consumed by their own personal journeys, but we’re all heading in the same direction and will support each other if anyone needs help. Another key takeaway I have is you never regret the sessions you do. Of course, there will be times where missing a session is unavoidable – we’re all human and it’s inevitable that unexpected things will happen. However, if I’m just feeling not up for it, the accountability that I’ve built up by making running a habit gives me the motivation to get back out there.  

Coming up, I’m planning to run the Reading Half Marathon with one of my best friends from university who I haven’t seen for years. We originally planned to do something relaxing together, which this race won’t be, but the benefits it gives us both can’t be beaten. We’ve all got to keep ourselves accountable for our own well-being and remember what we’re here for. Emails in your inbox, a job you need to complete – they will still be there tomorrow, so we owe it to ourselves to be present in other areas of our lives that we value, like our family.  

I want my children to see the things I’m doing, whether that be work or running, and I want them to be inspired and do what’s important to them.