Yep. I was quite giddy with excitement today.
Very quietly, I have been running again. Achilles is still stiff, but the Good Witch of the North assures me that will heal eventually and gradual rehab into treadmill running will not aggravate it at all.
So, I have now run 3 times! 10 mins, then 20 mins, and then, today, 5k in 30 minutes.
And today felt absolutely sweet. Every now and again you get a workout that hits a sweet spot. Today I felt strong and fit as an ox as I flew over the treadmill and hauled some weights. Bliss.
It goes to show how much harder work it is running on roads - all the unexpected or invisible inclines, the hopping up and down kerbs etc - so much harder than when the ground kindly moves for you beneath your feet.
Carried away with enthusiasm, I offcially pulled out of Cardiff and softenend that blow by immediately signing up for the Bath Half on March 6th. This blog will remain Countdown to Cardiff as I am still aiming to run it next year ... it just means it's a bloody long countdown.
:-)
Tuesday 14 September 2010
Tuesday 7 September 2010
Sidelined
It's been an incredibly hard month.
I have watched my training schedule loom, and then begin to inexorably slide past me. I have dug my heels in. I have clutched at straws. I have clawed at time with my fingernails. It has felt as if I have been clinging onto a steep rock face, trying to avoid the inevitable slide downwards, as Nick Knowles describes my death defying attempts and the RAF rescue helicopter whirrs above me. (I may also have been watching too much daytime tv .... )
My torn achilles tendon has probably been the most constant, stable part of life. It has been the one thing that seemed not to be changing. Around the stubborn injury I changed what I could:
And eventually, it happened. I realised that I would not be running the Cardiff Half. I had been sidelined.
Gumph! (That's the sound of what it feels like to be punched in the stomach which is what finally facing up to the truth felt like).
I had thrown so much emotionally into signing up for this race, my running was able to bring me a sense of some control in the snowballing world of Mum's cancer diagnosis. Letting go of the race meant letting go of some of that control and was, well, a bit panic inducing if I'm honest.
So, my fellow running freaks, I am standing on the sidelines. I am cheering you on. But I will save my loudest cheers for each one of you who is running for a cause. And I'm not talking charity. I'm talking about the other causes - running to forget. Or running to gain some control. Or running in memory of someone you love.
Run like the wind.
And I'll see you next year.
x
I have watched my training schedule loom, and then begin to inexorably slide past me. I have dug my heels in. I have clutched at straws. I have clawed at time with my fingernails. It has felt as if I have been clinging onto a steep rock face, trying to avoid the inevitable slide downwards, as Nick Knowles describes my death defying attempts and the RAF rescue helicopter whirrs above me. (I may also have been watching too much daytime tv .... )
My torn achilles tendon has probably been the most constant, stable part of life. It has been the one thing that seemed not to be changing. Around the stubborn injury I changed what I could:
- My shoes - I LOVE the guys in Bath Running shop, who became even more brilliant as my physio (who practices upstairs) nipped down to explain to them my problem so that they can fix me up with absolutely the best shoes for the job. Now THAT'S service.
- My training schedule, which became all about cardio and zero about running. I grew to resent my spinning bike as I grudgingly worked out on that instead of pavement pounding.
And eventually, it happened. I realised that I would not be running the Cardiff Half. I had been sidelined.
Gumph! (That's the sound of what it feels like to be punched in the stomach which is what finally facing up to the truth felt like).
I had thrown so much emotionally into signing up for this race, my running was able to bring me a sense of some control in the snowballing world of Mum's cancer diagnosis. Letting go of the race meant letting go of some of that control and was, well, a bit panic inducing if I'm honest.
So, my fellow running freaks, I am standing on the sidelines. I am cheering you on. But I will save my loudest cheers for each one of you who is running for a cause. And I'm not talking charity. I'm talking about the other causes - running to forget. Or running to gain some control. Or running in memory of someone you love.
Run like the wind.
And I'll see you next year.
x
Monday 2 August 2010
Rolling with the punches
Hi. Me: 38 year old first time runner from Bath. You: Either bored @ work or putting off going for a run.
I have paused for thought.
This was not a choice. I have another injury.
After weeks of no running waiting for shin splints to heal, I now have a muscle pull on my lower left soleus near my achilles.
I've taken 2 weeks off running (no choice in that matter - muscles have a way of letting you know clearly when they need a rest. I can only liken it to having a toddler scream at you in the middle of Sainsburys - similar levels of discomfort and desire to M-A-K-E I-T S-T-O-P)
I have interesting chats about injury with folk who I love and respect hugely. There is a general, and I have to admit, fairly understandable concern that maybe I'm not cut out for running. That my body is trying to tell me something.
Like I said - understandable considering my luck over the last 3 months. But here's the thing. I have gone to working out 3 - 5 times a week since October - from nothing. Before then it's true - I never had shin splints. I never had a pulled soleus muscle (I didn't even know what or where it is - frankly, soleus sounds more like a sun cream to me). But here's what I did have; apathy, lethargy, relentlessly aching joints (especially my hips), and overweight bordering on obese. But we don't talk about these "injuries". We accept these as things that are an inevitable consequence of aging or things that we just don't talk about. But these are the things that kill us. When was the last time anyone died of shin splints?!
So, blessed with the love and concern of my friends, I will continue to be sensible, take fabulous advice and do everything I can to cement running as a part of my long term plan for fitness in my life - above and beyond the Race. Injury is an inevitable consequence of getting and keeping fit. My plan is to not let it derail me.
Meanwhile, my good witch of the North** has been away and so I wait to see her tomorrow.
And I think the best way to describe how I feel is ... trepidatious.
10 weeks left of training at time of writing. I have only got my distance up to 4 miles before being stopped in my tracks.
And it gives me time to really think abut why I am running. Why I feel so upset when I think I may not be ready or able to run (although my definition of "ready" is getting more and more flexible).So here's some reflection on my back story:
1) Celebration: I am primarily running because this is the first time in all my 38 years that I have felt that I could even consider it. Last Oct I started seeing a trainer, just once a month (they're not cheap!) and it proved to be the kick start I needed to make lasting changes and see slow and steady weight loss that I am completely confident will stay gone. The race for me is a celebration of my new found fitness.
2) Control: My mum was diagnosed with stage 4 inoperable cancer in April. Mum is my rock, one of my best friends, and all round last person in the world who deserves it ... you know the type. When I allow it to, it feels as if my life is spinning out of control. So I try not to allow it - I concentrate on one day at a time. But I'd be lying if I said that the race wasn't my attempt to control something and bring order and planning to my life at a time when I feel completely bloody powerless. And yes ... I know ... trying to control things is never good in the long run (s'cuse the sad runner's pun) but I'm just being honest.
3) St Margaret's Hospice. Mum has worked there for the last 5 years - and wants to end things there too. So I will be fundraising for them. Not that there aren't many other fabulous causes. But this is mine. And it matters.
4) Being led astray. I should know better. My starting mate for the race persuaded me to sign up with him. This is the same mate who introduced me to Tucker's Tango - the simply amazing and yet perfectly lethal dry cider they serve at Tucker's Grave. The same mate who agrees to go to the cinema with me but we end up eating and drinking instead. Really, really after 23 years, I should know better.
5) The Izzard effect. Not to be underrated. Especially his explanation that he felt he'd reached 40 healthy due to luck and cerntainly not judgement, and that 40 onwards was time to pay into the health karma account. I was profoundly moved by what that nutter did for Comic relief.
I think that's about it. I am back on the spinning bike and weights to make sure I am not wasting the time I'm 'offroad'. And we'll just have to see what tomorrow brings. But I won't worry about that right now. It's still today after all.
Cool runnings to you all.
**Good witch of the North = my physio, the best physio in all the world. See my Land of Oz blog post xxx
I have paused for thought.
This was not a choice. I have another injury.
After weeks of no running waiting for shin splints to heal, I now have a muscle pull on my lower left soleus near my achilles.
I've taken 2 weeks off running (no choice in that matter - muscles have a way of letting you know clearly when they need a rest. I can only liken it to having a toddler scream at you in the middle of Sainsburys - similar levels of discomfort and desire to M-A-K-E I-T S-T-O-P)
I have interesting chats about injury with folk who I love and respect hugely. There is a general, and I have to admit, fairly understandable concern that maybe I'm not cut out for running. That my body is trying to tell me something.
Like I said - understandable considering my luck over the last 3 months. But here's the thing. I have gone to working out 3 - 5 times a week since October - from nothing. Before then it's true - I never had shin splints. I never had a pulled soleus muscle (I didn't even know what or where it is - frankly, soleus sounds more like a sun cream to me). But here's what I did have; apathy, lethargy, relentlessly aching joints (especially my hips), and overweight bordering on obese. But we don't talk about these "injuries". We accept these as things that are an inevitable consequence of aging or things that we just don't talk about. But these are the things that kill us. When was the last time anyone died of shin splints?!
So, blessed with the love and concern of my friends, I will continue to be sensible, take fabulous advice and do everything I can to cement running as a part of my long term plan for fitness in my life - above and beyond the Race. Injury is an inevitable consequence of getting and keeping fit. My plan is to not let it derail me.
Meanwhile, my good witch of the North** has been away and so I wait to see her tomorrow.
And I think the best way to describe how I feel is ... trepidatious.
10 weeks left of training at time of writing. I have only got my distance up to 4 miles before being stopped in my tracks.
And it gives me time to really think abut why I am running. Why I feel so upset when I think I may not be ready or able to run (although my definition of "ready" is getting more and more flexible).So here's some reflection on my back story:
1) Celebration: I am primarily running because this is the first time in all my 38 years that I have felt that I could even consider it. Last Oct I started seeing a trainer, just once a month (they're not cheap!) and it proved to be the kick start I needed to make lasting changes and see slow and steady weight loss that I am completely confident will stay gone. The race for me is a celebration of my new found fitness.
2) Control: My mum was diagnosed with stage 4 inoperable cancer in April. Mum is my rock, one of my best friends, and all round last person in the world who deserves it ... you know the type. When I allow it to, it feels as if my life is spinning out of control. So I try not to allow it - I concentrate on one day at a time. But I'd be lying if I said that the race wasn't my attempt to control something and bring order and planning to my life at a time when I feel completely bloody powerless. And yes ... I know ... trying to control things is never good in the long run (s'cuse the sad runner's pun) but I'm just being honest.
3) St Margaret's Hospice. Mum has worked there for the last 5 years - and wants to end things there too. So I will be fundraising for them. Not that there aren't many other fabulous causes. But this is mine. And it matters.
4) Being led astray. I should know better. My starting mate for the race persuaded me to sign up with him. This is the same mate who introduced me to Tucker's Tango - the simply amazing and yet perfectly lethal dry cider they serve at Tucker's Grave. The same mate who agrees to go to the cinema with me but we end up eating and drinking instead. Really, really after 23 years, I should know better.
5) The Izzard effect. Not to be underrated. Especially his explanation that he felt he'd reached 40 healthy due to luck and cerntainly not judgement, and that 40 onwards was time to pay into the health karma account. I was profoundly moved by what that nutter did for Comic relief.
I think that's about it. I am back on the spinning bike and weights to make sure I am not wasting the time I'm 'offroad'. And we'll just have to see what tomorrow brings. But I won't worry about that right now. It's still today after all.
Cool runnings to you all.
**Good witch of the North = my physio, the best physio in all the world. See my Land of Oz blog post xxx
Wednesday 21 July 2010
A whole new world of flat
For the first time in my life, I am truly appreciative of the benefits of Norfolk.
As someone who grew up and now lives in the very hilly city of Bath, surrounded by the beautiful Cotswold hills, I feel safe and secure, surrounded by hills, like sleeping dragons looking down on me.
In terms of running, the hills have been great. Before injury, my fitness was greatly improved by hauling my ass up the hills around and about. More recently, I had been told to stick to flat runs so my 2 milers have been along what I'd thought was a flat route ... until Monday!
Monday I decided to up distance to 4 miles as planned, and to try the Bristol - Bath cycle route. Which is flat.
And I mean F-L-A-T! I'd had no idea how hilly my everyday route is. I know that might sound odd, and I assure you I don't have some wierd inner ear condition, but hills are relative - and relative to the biggies, these are teeny. But these invisible hills have clearly done their bit because the 4 mile run along the cycle path was easier than I thought. And once again, the mad woman in my head was remarkably quiet!
On a darker note - there were definite tones of Blair Witch on the outward couple of miles as I didn't see another living soul ... with the exception of several hundred tits.
***Breaking leg news***
Not breaking leg.
Breaking news vis-a-vis leg.
See?
Anyhoo....
I have managed to pull my lower soleus near where it joins my achilles - this time on my left leg. It hurts to walk so back on the bike for a few days until it calms down.
Do you have any idea how sick to the back teeth I am of the twinges and strains?
Seriously.
Very ... very over it.
As someone who grew up and now lives in the very hilly city of Bath, surrounded by the beautiful Cotswold hills, I feel safe and secure, surrounded by hills, like sleeping dragons looking down on me.
In terms of running, the hills have been great. Before injury, my fitness was greatly improved by hauling my ass up the hills around and about. More recently, I had been told to stick to flat runs so my 2 milers have been along what I'd thought was a flat route ... until Monday!
Monday I decided to up distance to 4 miles as planned, and to try the Bristol - Bath cycle route. Which is flat.
And I mean F-L-A-T! I'd had no idea how hilly my everyday route is. I know that might sound odd, and I assure you I don't have some wierd inner ear condition, but hills are relative - and relative to the biggies, these are teeny. But these invisible hills have clearly done their bit because the 4 mile run along the cycle path was easier than I thought. And once again, the mad woman in my head was remarkably quiet!
On a darker note - there were definite tones of Blair Witch on the outward couple of miles as I didn't see another living soul ... with the exception of several hundred tits.
***Breaking leg news***
Not breaking leg.
Breaking news vis-a-vis leg.
See?
Anyhoo....
I have managed to pull my lower soleus near where it joins my achilles - this time on my left leg. It hurts to walk so back on the bike for a few days until it calms down.
Do you have any idea how sick to the back teeth I am of the twinges and strains?
Seriously.
Very ... very over it.
Wednesday 14 July 2010
From strength to strength and back again
Well. This running lark is beginning to pay off.
On Tuesday, I did another 3 miles and this time used the Garmin satnavthingy watch that Running Mate loaned me. I have a 2 mile circuit which I had done 1.5 of on Saturday - but found the temptation to stop at the end of lap 1 very great as I was almost at my front door - it took Herculean strength to will myself to run another mile in the opposite direction.
So this time, I used the Garmin to show me how far I had travelled and managed a 3 mile route door to door.
The Garmin also showed me my pace - I LOVE knowing this! It deeply appeals to the control freak in me, and I managed 3 miles in bang on 30 mins. Not only did I manage 10 minute splits, but I did this whilst running without the mad lady occupying my thoughts, convincing me I was about to die every 3 minutes. I found a little bit of joy in digging deep, and found myself running from a place of determination and strength for the majority of the run.
This is some breakthrough for me.
I am used to staggering through 80% of my runs. Feeling as if I am a tourist in the the Oz-like land of running, where the munchkins are replaced with gaunt, haunted looking fast people and I am a flushed looking, staggering Dorothy who appears to have gone 10 rounds with the wicked witch of the west.
But on Tuesday, I began to feel like the wizard maybe has a point. I know I'm not fast. But I knew I had what that run required. And I went out and ran it.
And it felt good.
My good friend Jamie made a comment that the mad woman I described in my earlier post was a voice that thought she was keeping me safe - when in fact, that voice was just holding me back.
It's amazingly powerful when other folk point something out that you knew for yourself - it's not till someone else articulates it that you manage to shift it.
****in further leg news****
I'm learning the importance for me to warmup, stretch then run, cool down and stretch. I've never much bothered with warm ups and stretching before the run before. But I'm finding I'm getting nasty adductor strain if I don't. Shin a little bit niggly, so planning on replacing tomorrow's run with a spin and some weights instead and have booked in to see The Good Witch of the North (aka Claire the physio).
On Tuesday, I did another 3 miles and this time used the Garmin satnavthingy watch that Running Mate loaned me. I have a 2 mile circuit which I had done 1.5 of on Saturday - but found the temptation to stop at the end of lap 1 very great as I was almost at my front door - it took Herculean strength to will myself to run another mile in the opposite direction.
So this time, I used the Garmin to show me how far I had travelled and managed a 3 mile route door to door.
The Garmin also showed me my pace - I LOVE knowing this! It deeply appeals to the control freak in me, and I managed 3 miles in bang on 30 mins. Not only did I manage 10 minute splits, but I did this whilst running without the mad lady occupying my thoughts, convincing me I was about to die every 3 minutes. I found a little bit of joy in digging deep, and found myself running from a place of determination and strength for the majority of the run.
This is some breakthrough for me.
I am used to staggering through 80% of my runs. Feeling as if I am a tourist in the the Oz-like land of running, where the munchkins are replaced with gaunt, haunted looking fast people and I am a flushed looking, staggering Dorothy who appears to have gone 10 rounds with the wicked witch of the west.
But on Tuesday, I began to feel like the wizard maybe has a point. I know I'm not fast. But I knew I had what that run required. And I went out and ran it.
And it felt good.
My good friend Jamie made a comment that the mad woman I described in my earlier post was a voice that thought she was keeping me safe - when in fact, that voice was just holding me back.
It's amazingly powerful when other folk point something out that you knew for yourself - it's not till someone else articulates it that you manage to shift it.
****in further leg news****
I'm learning the importance for me to warmup, stretch then run, cool down and stretch. I've never much bothered with warm ups and stretching before the run before. But I'm finding I'm getting nasty adductor strain if I don't. Shin a little bit niggly, so planning on replacing tomorrow's run with a spin and some weights instead and have booked in to see The Good Witch of the North (aka Claire the physio).
Sunday 11 July 2010
What a difference a day makes!
I had a much better run today. Upped my distance back up to 3 miles for the first time since starting back at it.
AND! During my first few runs back I knew I had to be cautious and not go hell for leather so I was deliberately jogging, not running at any real pace. And today, I ran at a more normal pace and knocked a full minute off each mile! I'm down to nearer 10 minute miles again which makes my sub 2 hour goal for Cardiff feel a bit more achievable. I felt strong for nearly all of the run.
However, I still have the mad woman in my head. The mad woman whose response to being hot, sweaty and breathing heavily is "YOU'RE GOING TO DIE!!!". She panics. It's like a reaction to being dangled off a very high cliff. She makes the conversations I have in my head while I'm running most interesting.
She's an assertive mad woman. I keep thinking that one day I'll run and she won't be there but she's pretty persistent. A friend asked me today if the running is getting easier. And of course, I am getting fitter, but I still have these insane debates where she screams "STOP RUNNING! YOU HAVE TO STOP!" at regular intervals.
------
I would like to send a message to the several nice people I passed while running today. I think I may have scared them. So apologies. You see, I was actually trying to smile. But, as I've mentioned before on this blog, smiling whilst running is tricky - when it comes to a choice between smiling and breathing, breathing tends to win, hands down. So when I try to smile, it's a bit half-hearted, or rather half-mouthed. And I only seem to be able to spare my top lip for these smiles, which results in a sort of grimace that possibly looks like I'm about to stab them rather than smile at them. What makes it worse is that my top lip then sticks to my dehydrated teeth on it's return to it's natural position.
I've decided to practice the cool art of the runner's wave and nod combo instead.
I don't want small kids to have bad dreams.
TTFN.
AND! During my first few runs back I knew I had to be cautious and not go hell for leather so I was deliberately jogging, not running at any real pace. And today, I ran at a more normal pace and knocked a full minute off each mile! I'm down to nearer 10 minute miles again which makes my sub 2 hour goal for Cardiff feel a bit more achievable. I felt strong for nearly all of the run.
However, I still have the mad woman in my head. The mad woman whose response to being hot, sweaty and breathing heavily is "YOU'RE GOING TO DIE!!!". She panics. It's like a reaction to being dangled off a very high cliff. She makes the conversations I have in my head while I'm running most interesting.
She's an assertive mad woman. I keep thinking that one day I'll run and she won't be there but she's pretty persistent. A friend asked me today if the running is getting easier. And of course, I am getting fitter, but I still have these insane debates where she screams "STOP RUNNING! YOU HAVE TO STOP!" at regular intervals.
------
I would like to send a message to the several nice people I passed while running today. I think I may have scared them. So apologies. You see, I was actually trying to smile. But, as I've mentioned before on this blog, smiling whilst running is tricky - when it comes to a choice between smiling and breathing, breathing tends to win, hands down. So when I try to smile, it's a bit half-hearted, or rather half-mouthed. And I only seem to be able to spare my top lip for these smiles, which results in a sort of grimace that possibly looks like I'm about to stab them rather than smile at them. What makes it worse is that my top lip then sticks to my dehydrated teeth on it's return to it's natural position.
I've decided to practice the cool art of the runner's wave and nod combo instead.
I don't want small kids to have bad dreams.
TTFN.
Friday 9 July 2010
Running on Empty?
Blimey.
That was a bit of a shock.
I've spent all week taking out my frustrations on the spinning bike, confident in the knowledge that with every spin I am increasing my fitness, despite the lack of actual running.
So, this morning I am in sunny London, in Bermondsey. And I decided to do one of my favourite things - a run along the Thames.
And I am careful ... oh so careful. I run up to the park, then stretch, very carefully. Then, I'm off! Up to Tower bridge and along past Hay's Galleria, towards Waterloo. The weather is amazing. The sun shines, there is a breeze coming off the Thames, and it has to be one of the best views in the entire world.
But
My legs don't work.
And my lungs appear to have shrunk.
And I am making wierd gaspy noises as I run.
(Not to mention the fact that everywhere smells pungently of dog's piss but I'm not going to hold myself responsible for that - it just added to the general malaise)
Hmmmm.
I believe this is what is called "Running on Empty". It's Friday, and I hae worked out every day this week. No rest day - maybe my legs are tired?
Or maybe, just everynow and again, you get a crap run. It was only 2 miles. But felt like 13. Scary.
But the jewel is this: On 2 occaisions, for about 1 minute each, I felt I was running like a well-oiled machine. Fleeting feelings - but definitely there! It's like panning for gold - sift through all the shit and there are a couple of jewels.
Leg is not too bad. I cooled down properly, stetched well. It's tight but not as bad as it has been. The groin strain I appeared to pick up today is another issue. Hey ho. Nothing shall stand in my way.
ttfn
That was a bit of a shock.
I've spent all week taking out my frustrations on the spinning bike, confident in the knowledge that with every spin I am increasing my fitness, despite the lack of actual running.
So, this morning I am in sunny London, in Bermondsey. And I decided to do one of my favourite things - a run along the Thames.
And I am careful ... oh so careful. I run up to the park, then stretch, very carefully. Then, I'm off! Up to Tower bridge and along past Hay's Galleria, towards Waterloo. The weather is amazing. The sun shines, there is a breeze coming off the Thames, and it has to be one of the best views in the entire world.
But
My legs don't work.
And my lungs appear to have shrunk.
And I am making wierd gaspy noises as I run.
(Not to mention the fact that everywhere smells pungently of dog's piss but I'm not going to hold myself responsible for that - it just added to the general malaise)
Hmmmm.
I believe this is what is called "Running on Empty". It's Friday, and I hae worked out every day this week. No rest day - maybe my legs are tired?
Or maybe, just everynow and again, you get a crap run. It was only 2 miles. But felt like 13. Scary.
But the jewel is this: On 2 occaisions, for about 1 minute each, I felt I was running like a well-oiled machine. Fleeting feelings - but definitely there! It's like panning for gold - sift through all the shit and there are a couple of jewels.
Leg is not too bad. I cooled down properly, stetched well. It's tight but not as bad as it has been. The groin strain I appeared to pick up today is another issue. Hey ho. Nothing shall stand in my way.
ttfn
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