Fa la, la, la, la la la, la
Apparently.
The fecundity of joy that assaults our senses everywhere we go starting in September, coming to it's unavoidable climax in December surely cannot be the experience of the majority of the population? The feeling that we must have 'the' most fun on 25th December, that we must 'stuff' ourselves to exploding point and be filled with an over whelming sense of love, (thank you Jesus), just ain't the case for most of us.
So as my Mum and Stepdad snore the afternoon away, full after a rather fabulous Christmas meal it was time to plan even more running for 2013. So I've gone and done it, bought myself a Christmas present, but a Christmas present that will start in January and go on until October 6th. It's the present that just keeps on giving and giving. I've bought my entry to the Bournemouth Half Marathon. Eeek and double eeek.
I had thought when I started this blog that by the time the Great South Run had been and gone that I would be a svelte size 12, no wobbly bits in sight (well apart from the obvious ones and only surgery will stop that), toned, fit and full of energy.
I am a few of those things. I am slimmer, svelter, fitter, more toned but not so full of energy (that could be down to the broken heart, the weeks illness, ensuing round of Christmas parties and the rather large Christmas dinner that I've just eaten). I realised that after a long run, well a long run in my book, say 8k, a man size pizza with all the trimmings afterwards do not lead to a svelte size 12. It only leads to a misplaced sense of righteousness.
So with an even bigger goal to achieve in just over 10 months, it's time to get my proverbial skates on, cut out the man size pizza's, up my self hypnosis for running, crack on with Pilate's, get some help from a personal trainer, run lots more with running buddies and go get that svelte size 12, energy and reduction in wobbly bits (well . . . all but two of them).
So here's to running in 2013, and maybe I'll treat myself to a new pair of trainers as well?
Tuesday 25 December 2012
Sunday 16 December 2012
The Portsmouth Santa Fun Run
Wow, what a truly amazing, brilliant day.
It's not often that I set an alarm on a Sunday morning for 7am so that I can travel just over 20 miles in a Santa outfit to run 10k or 6.4 miles in old money. But this Sunday was the Portsmouth Santa Fun Run, and it certainly lived up to it's name. It was just what the Dr ordered.
It was only about three weeks ago that I made the decision to sign-up and do the Santa Fun run being cajoled and encouraged by my new running chums Clare Horan and Jenny Jones and I'm really chuffed that they did.
After a horrible five weeks including a break up, some stressful work bollocks and a hideous cold (have I mentioned before I never get sick! I promise I will stop whining about being poorly soon) running has been a great help. Surprising I know, but being outdoors, pushing myself, meeting up with friends and getting those endorphins flowing through my veins is like a tonic and a healthy one at that. And so the Santa Run appeared to be an excellent idea.
I haven't done a big run since the Great South Run which is 10 miles, which wiped me out for a couple of weeks, followed by all of the above, my furthest distance in all that time has been 5k and probably only about four times. Eek, my training has been quite low on the agenda and I was unsure of whether I'd actually be able to do it.
Sunshiny Day
So Sunday started with the most beautiful sunshiny morning, not a cloud in the sky, no harsh wind and even feeling pretty warm, which is great for running, not so great in a running outfit hidden by a Santa outfit. It all gets pretty sweaty, pretty quickly.
Awash with Santa's
Arrival in Portsmouth saw the hurried dressing up as Santa with the obligatory bright red Christmassy lipstick for the ladies, it is Christmas after all and you've got to get a bit of glamour into running if you possibly can. There was a posse of 10 of us, some running 5k and some running 10k and I must admit to feeling a teensy bit jealous that I hadn't put my name down for the 5k. In our posse was Clare Horan, Jenny Jones, Catherine Alpin, Barbara Boshier, Emma O'Brian, Linda, Mike and Evelyn (?) and Orelio who wasn't running as he was feeling pants. And we all cut a very fine Santa figure.
At the start line there were Samba drums which are amazing at getting you jeed up, warmed up and buzzing with excitement and the sea front was awash with Santa's. I think there may have been about 1,500 Santa's down at the sea front, and it was fabulous to see.
And then we were off, up the promenade with the sea on our right and an enormous snake of red far off into the distance, snaking their way eventually back down the shingle beach (that was tough!) and back onto the promenade to continue the journey along the sea front.
Running ain't so difficult with support from friends
And it was tough, and it felt like a bloody long way, my legs felt heavy around the 7k mark, I was coughing but there was no effing way I was going to give in and walk. I have to give a big thank you to Clare Horan, Jenny Jones, Linda and Evelyn for all their support on this run. It was tough for lots of reasons but also bloody brilliant fun.
And now I'm home, bathed, warm, a glass of red and smiling on the inside.
So if you're toying with the idea of starting to run, at the very least aim to do the Portsmouth Santa Fun Run for the RNLI, it's a great day you won't forget in a hurry.
Here's a Merry Christmas to all, have a wonderful time with your friends and loved ones.
xxxx
It's not often that I set an alarm on a Sunday morning for 7am so that I can travel just over 20 miles in a Santa outfit to run 10k or 6.4 miles in old money. But this Sunday was the Portsmouth Santa Fun Run, and it certainly lived up to it's name. It was just what the Dr ordered.
It was only about three weeks ago that I made the decision to sign-up and do the Santa Fun run being cajoled and encouraged by my new running chums Clare Horan and Jenny Jones and I'm really chuffed that they did.
After a horrible five weeks including a break up, some stressful work bollocks and a hideous cold (have I mentioned before I never get sick! I promise I will stop whining about being poorly soon) running has been a great help. Surprising I know, but being outdoors, pushing myself, meeting up with friends and getting those endorphins flowing through my veins is like a tonic and a healthy one at that. And so the Santa Run appeared to be an excellent idea.
I haven't done a big run since the Great South Run which is 10 miles, which wiped me out for a couple of weeks, followed by all of the above, my furthest distance in all that time has been 5k and probably only about four times. Eek, my training has been quite low on the agenda and I was unsure of whether I'd actually be able to do it.
Sunshiny Day
So Sunday started with the most beautiful sunshiny morning, not a cloud in the sky, no harsh wind and even feeling pretty warm, which is great for running, not so great in a running outfit hidden by a Santa outfit. It all gets pretty sweaty, pretty quickly.
Awash with Santa's
Arrival in Portsmouth saw the hurried dressing up as Santa with the obligatory bright red Christmassy lipstick for the ladies, it is Christmas after all and you've got to get a bit of glamour into running if you possibly can. There was a posse of 10 of us, some running 5k and some running 10k and I must admit to feeling a teensy bit jealous that I hadn't put my name down for the 5k. In our posse was Clare Horan, Jenny Jones, Catherine Alpin, Barbara Boshier, Emma O'Brian, Linda, Mike and Evelyn (?) and Orelio who wasn't running as he was feeling pants. And we all cut a very fine Santa figure.
At the start line there were Samba drums which are amazing at getting you jeed up, warmed up and buzzing with excitement and the sea front was awash with Santa's. I think there may have been about 1,500 Santa's down at the sea front, and it was fabulous to see.
And then we were off, up the promenade with the sea on our right and an enormous snake of red far off into the distance, snaking their way eventually back down the shingle beach (that was tough!) and back onto the promenade to continue the journey along the sea front.
Running ain't so difficult with support from friends
And it was tough, and it felt like a bloody long way, my legs felt heavy around the 7k mark, I was coughing but there was no effing way I was going to give in and walk. I have to give a big thank you to Clare Horan, Jenny Jones, Linda and Evelyn for all their support on this run. It was tough for lots of reasons but also bloody brilliant fun.
And now I'm home, bathed, warm, a glass of red and smiling on the inside.
So if you're toying with the idea of starting to run, at the very least aim to do the Portsmouth Santa Fun Run for the RNLI, it's a great day you won't forget in a hurry.
Here's a Merry Christmas to all, have a wonderful time with your friends and loved ones.
xxxx
Saturday 15 December 2012
So I should make lemonade . . .
Running, running, running, still I keep running and still I keep at a similar speed. Sometimes I feel like a lumbering oaf, heaving myself around a park or suburbia, running and for what purpose. OK I know the answer to this one, to get better, faster, fitter, happier, run for longer, have more energy and prove to myself that I can do pretty much anything that I set my mind to, I remember now, there are a lot of good reasons why I run.
So being the ungrateful recipient of a cold, as someone who is rarely, if ever sick, or even remotely poorly it comes as a bit of shock to have to carry around tissues and blow my nose, and sniff and breath with my mouth open like a panting dog in the heat of Summer.
With a sore throat, laboured breathing, still .... I went running. A new parkrun venue in Netley was the lucky recipient of my laboured run last Saturday. But what a lovely place to run, by the sea, through a bit of the woods and three short laps. The wonderful Arelio from Lordshill Road Runners ran with me, all the way round. Arelio is an experienced runner, 72 marathons under his belt, and he has the kindness and motivation to support and motivate those of us to do well and I am eternally grateful. I didn't get a personal best this week and I am a little disappointed but with a stinking cold a sort throat and running on a cold Winters day I was still out there and running rather than lying there in bed, feeling sorry for myself.
The Diet
In the effort to increase speed I'm guessing I should check out my diet, finding the best foods to aid recovery and provide much required energy to fuel the legs to go further for longer. Although I wish that a hot, pepperoni pizza would do all of the above, sadly I think I'll be disappointed. The Christmas holidays will give me the time and opportunity to get stuck into my collection of running magazines work out what to stock my cupboards with, cook and freeze stuff, all to make life a little easier and increase my speed just a little.
The Garmin Watch
An amazing watch which should, for all intents and purposes be my running saviour, getting that pace a little faster, a few more seconds off my times. And still the watch currently resides in its box, on a shelf, unused and unloved. I have yet to read the instructions and yet to sort out my laptop as it seems as reluctant to pair with my garmin as I do. A gift somewhat tainted. And so it will sit, until I dig out the Silvo and polish the tarnish off once and for all, read those instructions and really start working towards that elusive PB.
Man Flu
'The Cold' turned into 'Man Flu' and the last week saw me mostly asleep, about 12 - 16 hours for the first three days and waking up in a pool of my own sweat, wishing that my Mum lived close by and could bring me some chicken soup and tlc. Instead my new best friends now were the sofa, my bed, my hot water bottle and lemsip. But all good things come to an end, that and impending insanity being confined to the house saw me back at work on Friday and out at the works party on Friday night. And as I like to plan in advance I'd already passed up the opportunity to run at parkrun on Saturday morning and marshalled instead. I was quite pleased with my decision, feeling slightly jaded, wishing the other runners well, feeling pleased for once that it wasn't me.
Santa Hats
Tomorrow is the Santa run in Portsmouth, a whole 10k and I'm feeling a little jaded and without my usual run buzz, but I'm sure the addition of a Santa hat will make all the difference, and if life gives you lemons, you know what to do.
So being the ungrateful recipient of a cold, as someone who is rarely, if ever sick, or even remotely poorly it comes as a bit of shock to have to carry around tissues and blow my nose, and sniff and breath with my mouth open like a panting dog in the heat of Summer.
With a sore throat, laboured breathing, still .... I went running. A new parkrun venue in Netley was the lucky recipient of my laboured run last Saturday. But what a lovely place to run, by the sea, through a bit of the woods and three short laps. The wonderful Arelio from Lordshill Road Runners ran with me, all the way round. Arelio is an experienced runner, 72 marathons under his belt, and he has the kindness and motivation to support and motivate those of us to do well and I am eternally grateful. I didn't get a personal best this week and I am a little disappointed but with a stinking cold a sort throat and running on a cold Winters day I was still out there and running rather than lying there in bed, feeling sorry for myself.
The Diet
In the effort to increase speed I'm guessing I should check out my diet, finding the best foods to aid recovery and provide much required energy to fuel the legs to go further for longer. Although I wish that a hot, pepperoni pizza would do all of the above, sadly I think I'll be disappointed. The Christmas holidays will give me the time and opportunity to get stuck into my collection of running magazines work out what to stock my cupboards with, cook and freeze stuff, all to make life a little easier and increase my speed just a little.
The Garmin Watch
An amazing watch which should, for all intents and purposes be my running saviour, getting that pace a little faster, a few more seconds off my times. And still the watch currently resides in its box, on a shelf, unused and unloved. I have yet to read the instructions and yet to sort out my laptop as it seems as reluctant to pair with my garmin as I do. A gift somewhat tainted. And so it will sit, until I dig out the Silvo and polish the tarnish off once and for all, read those instructions and really start working towards that elusive PB.
Man Flu
'The Cold' turned into 'Man Flu' and the last week saw me mostly asleep, about 12 - 16 hours for the first three days and waking up in a pool of my own sweat, wishing that my Mum lived close by and could bring me some chicken soup and tlc. Instead my new best friends now were the sofa, my bed, my hot water bottle and lemsip. But all good things come to an end, that and impending insanity being confined to the house saw me back at work on Friday and out at the works party on Friday night. And as I like to plan in advance I'd already passed up the opportunity to run at parkrun on Saturday morning and marshalled instead. I was quite pleased with my decision, feeling slightly jaded, wishing the other runners well, feeling pleased for once that it wasn't me.
Santa Hats
Tomorrow is the Santa run in Portsmouth, a whole 10k and I'm feeling a little jaded and without my usual run buzz, but I'm sure the addition of a Santa hat will make all the difference, and if life gives you lemons, you know what to do.
Sunday 2 December 2012
And so the brass monkeys roam
And so December starts even colder than some hearts but still the desire to run is running hot in my veins.
As I ventured back to the running club on a Monday night, it proved to be an experience where I wished I had a love of carrots more extreme than Bugs Bunny. My first Monday night in months was a little darker, wetter and colder than the last time. With the onset of Winter, dark evenings, high vis jackets and even more attractive high vis gloves you could have mistaken me for an uncool raver, sans glowstick and thumping music.
Surprisingly to all you non runners it was bloody lovely. A whole bunch of runners sporting head torches (except for me) running around the common in the pursuit of fitness, a new personal best, stress relief and without any nervousness at all of being in the deepest darkest woods of Southampton Common.
This time of year the lure of the sofa and a warm red wine is extremely strong, especially when it feels like every breath will create a mini runway of frozen breath straight from your mouth. Luckily I visualise the feeling after a run is far more desirable than the regret of not going. I keep seeing a quote on Pinterest, along the lines of, 'it doesn't matter how fast you go, you are lapping everyone on the sofa', and so I remind myself of this every time the sofa is whispering my name.
The mental battle began again in earnest on Saturday morning when the temperature gauges were showing below 0 and the duvet was showing 'toasty'. I considered my choices, stay in bed, drink tea, have a leisurely morning, or; get up, go to parkrun, get the endorphins going and feel rather chuffed with myself. Parkrun won. And it was brass monkeys cold, but I caught up with some runners that I haven't seen for a while and it's great friendly warm community, which overruled the 'toasty' duvet feeling.
Whether it was the freezing cold, or the considerable weight loss I've experienced these last few weeks, or sheer bloody mindedness, I don't know but I got a new personal best, an improvement of 39 seconds. To anyone who doesn't run this might not sound like much, but seeing that figure certainly provides a mile wide grin across the face.
As my love affair with running grows I've now signed up for:
As I ventured back to the running club on a Monday night, it proved to be an experience where I wished I had a love of carrots more extreme than Bugs Bunny. My first Monday night in months was a little darker, wetter and colder than the last time. With the onset of Winter, dark evenings, high vis jackets and even more attractive high vis gloves you could have mistaken me for an uncool raver, sans glowstick and thumping music.
Surprisingly to all you non runners it was bloody lovely. A whole bunch of runners sporting head torches (except for me) running around the common in the pursuit of fitness, a new personal best, stress relief and without any nervousness at all of being in the deepest darkest woods of Southampton Common.
This time of year the lure of the sofa and a warm red wine is extremely strong, especially when it feels like every breath will create a mini runway of frozen breath straight from your mouth. Luckily I visualise the feeling after a run is far more desirable than the regret of not going. I keep seeing a quote on Pinterest, along the lines of, 'it doesn't matter how fast you go, you are lapping everyone on the sofa', and so I remind myself of this every time the sofa is whispering my name.
The mental battle began again in earnest on Saturday morning when the temperature gauges were showing below 0 and the duvet was showing 'toasty'. I considered my choices, stay in bed, drink tea, have a leisurely morning, or; get up, go to parkrun, get the endorphins going and feel rather chuffed with myself. Parkrun won. And it was brass monkeys cold, but I caught up with some runners that I haven't seen for a while and it's great friendly warm community, which overruled the 'toasty' duvet feeling.
Whether it was the freezing cold, or the considerable weight loss I've experienced these last few weeks, or sheer bloody mindedness, I don't know but I got a new personal best, an improvement of 39 seconds. To anyone who doesn't run this might not sound like much, but seeing that figure certainly provides a mile wide grin across the face.
As my love affair with running grows I've now signed up for:
- The Santa Fun Run for the RNLI on 16th December - so I will now need to find a Santa outfit.
- The Stubbington 10k in January
- And Thunder Run in July which I don't know much about, except it's through the night
But for right now, the heating is on, I have fresh coffee and some warm mince pies and the monkeys are on their own.
Saturday 17 November 2012
Running through the pain barrier. . .
And so it is nearly three weeks since I ran the Great South Run and it's been a tough three weeks. The public display of 'cold sores' gone, some energy back. The day job still extraordinarily busy, so running has taken the proverbial back seat, until last week, well . . .
Saturday morning parkrun
Last Saturday was to be my first tentative steps back into running with a gentle parkrun but an unwelcome surprise gift on Friday night curtailed that. The words 'we need to talk' doesn't require any unwrapping of that present to know what was inside.
Running has become a big part of my life over the last six months and although I'm far from being gazelle like, I kinda love it? And now I was going to be needing a little more love from my trainers and the open road. The endorphins and challenge to beat my last personal best a whole lot more enticing than wallowing and crying into a glass of wine.
My evenings this week have been jam packed with Business Mentoring, hypnotherapy case study clients, prep for aforementioned clients, dinner with friends etc. Friday rocks up and I relax into an evening of complete relaxation and herbal tea and chicken soup and TV. All preparation for my first park run in a long, long time.
Saturday morning
This morning I was ready for running, raring to go and did my first parkrun for about 3 months. So even though eating this last week has been like pushing a marshmallow into a money box, with a dash of heartbreak sprinkled on top, I still ran it. It felt tough but I ran it and I didn't stop.
I didn't get a personal best this week but maybe I should cut myself some slack, keep on running, and keep those endorphins flowing.
Future races
As Winter has quickly claimed the evenings I didn't want to succumb to the lure of the sofa and a rich bodied red wine, instead of wrapping up for running and so I entered the Stubbington 10k in January. Eek, proper cold running weather, in just a few months time. So bugger it, lets book some more races.
Perhaps not gazelle like just yet, but running, high on endorphins, still smiling and pain free . . .
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kS-zK1S5Dws . And this tune is very apt.
Saturday morning parkrun
Last Saturday was to be my first tentative steps back into running with a gentle parkrun but an unwelcome surprise gift on Friday night curtailed that. The words 'we need to talk' doesn't require any unwrapping of that present to know what was inside.
Running has become a big part of my life over the last six months and although I'm far from being gazelle like, I kinda love it? And now I was going to be needing a little more love from my trainers and the open road. The endorphins and challenge to beat my last personal best a whole lot more enticing than wallowing and crying into a glass of wine.
My evenings this week have been jam packed with Business Mentoring, hypnotherapy case study clients, prep for aforementioned clients, dinner with friends etc. Friday rocks up and I relax into an evening of complete relaxation and herbal tea and chicken soup and TV. All preparation for my first park run in a long, long time.
Saturday morning
This morning I was ready for running, raring to go and did my first parkrun for about 3 months. So even though eating this last week has been like pushing a marshmallow into a money box, with a dash of heartbreak sprinkled on top, I still ran it. It felt tough but I ran it and I didn't stop.
I didn't get a personal best this week but maybe I should cut myself some slack, keep on running, and keep those endorphins flowing.
Future races
As Winter has quickly claimed the evenings I didn't want to succumb to the lure of the sofa and a rich bodied red wine, instead of wrapping up for running and so I entered the Stubbington 10k in January. Eek, proper cold running weather, in just a few months time. So bugger it, lets book some more races.
Perhaps not gazelle like just yet, but running, high on endorphins, still smiling and pain free . . .
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kS-zK1S5Dws . And this tune is very apt.
Monday 5 November 2012
Run Down . . . but not out . . .
Life after the Great South Run hasn't been great. I was expecting endless euphoria for at least a week. Surely such a milestone deserves to be dishing out the endorphins for five days?
Until then . . . I best get shopping for some Winter running gear.
Nope. My body was much more intent on shouting in no uncertain terms for F*** S***, slow down. After the initial exhaustion after the GSR last Sunday it was back to the day job on Monday. The day job has been providing plenty of its own stress recently working weekends and evenings. Don't get me wrong, no one would die or be tortured as a result of deadlines not being met, but it's just my work ethic to get things done. Add in planning my hypnosis sessions for my case study clients and then seeing clients, soon eats into your time. Then add in all the running training for the big event. Something had to give. Unfortunately my Hypnotherapy homework had to take a back seat. So not cracking on with my homework was another little stress playing at the back of my mind. And with time so poor, cooking and healthy eating took a knock as well. And so there it was, my body had frankly had enough.
Body on Strike
Monday I was still tired and then I started to notice the tell tale itchy tinglyness of the arrival of the dreaded herpes simplex virus exploding. Luckily (well I see it as luckily) I get them in my nose, and around the base of my nose. I think I caught them many, many years ago when I was learning to scuba dive. I didn't have my own mask so had to borrow one from the school and I think that's when I was in receipt of an unwanted gift. Anyway, this was the worst outbreak I've had for many, many years and as well as feeling like I'd been punched in the nose, also continued to feel exhausted and like I had a hangover but without the party. Usually a couple of early nights sorts me out. But this was going to take longer. Going to bed as early as 9.30, never later than 10 all week, was still leaving me feeling a wreck. Friday was the first day that I started to feel better and I've continued to improve. The wonderful cold sores are now past their worst and my nose looks like a pestiferous scabby mess, but the pain in gone and another early night and I'll be right as rain.
Monday I was still tired and then I started to notice the tell tale itchy tinglyness of the arrival of the dreaded herpes simplex virus exploding. Luckily (well I see it as luckily) I get them in my nose, and around the base of my nose. I think I caught them many, many years ago when I was learning to scuba dive. I didn't have my own mask so had to borrow one from the school and I think that's when I was in receipt of an unwanted gift. Anyway, this was the worst outbreak I've had for many, many years and as well as feeling like I'd been punched in the nose, also continued to feel exhausted and like I had a hangover but without the party. Usually a couple of early nights sorts me out. But this was going to take longer. Going to bed as early as 9.30, never later than 10 all week, was still leaving me feeling a wreck. Friday was the first day that I started to feel better and I've continued to improve. The wonderful cold sores are now past their worst and my nose looks like a pestiferous scabby mess, but the pain in gone and another early night and I'll be right as rain.
So I could blame feeling so awful just on the Great South Run but I really have to take some responsibility for myself here as well as otherwise I would have to hang up my trainers and resort to a previous version of my life. A version of my life that I'm not ready to go back to.
I'm giving myself a couple of weeks off running but starting with a gentle parkrun on a Saturday morning to get me back into it slowly.
This week of my body shouting at me made me realise that although I've made some profound changes in the last year, there is still a lot to do, to achieve that 'in control' 'fit person' that I aspire to be.
The Camera Never Lies
I've just discovered the photos from the GSR of me, running the route at various stages. And the experience has left me feeling a little despondent. You see the camera never lies and there was the evidence for all to see, my love of food and red wine and over indulgence. And the old negative feelings come flooding back. That vitriolic arsehole sat in my mind that whispers cruel things to me starts to whisper again. Fortunately I know better than to let that voice chat for too long and that too will be kicked into touch very soon.
The Great South Run 2013
My aim for the GSR in 2013 is to knock at least 30 minutes off my time. To be much lighter on my feet, much fitter and smiling when I see the photos.
The Camera Never Lies
I've just discovered the photos from the GSR of me, running the route at various stages. And the experience has left me feeling a little despondent. You see the camera never lies and there was the evidence for all to see, my love of food and red wine and over indulgence. And the old negative feelings come flooding back. That vitriolic arsehole sat in my mind that whispers cruel things to me starts to whisper again. Fortunately I know better than to let that voice chat for too long and that too will be kicked into touch very soon.
The Great South Run 2013
My aim for the GSR in 2013 is to knock at least 30 minutes off my time. To be much lighter on my feet, much fitter and smiling when I see the photos.
Until then . . . I best get shopping for some Winter running gear.
Monday 29 October 2012
The Great South Run
Losing my Great South Run Virginity
The night before felt a bit like getting prepared for a holiday; passport - check, money - check except this Saturday night was a bit more; number badge thing - check, safety pins - check, warm dry clothes - check, plastic cups - check, Doritos - check. Eventually I was happy that my morning would go without a hitch. Trainers at the door, running clothes laid out, alarm set and bag packed. And so off to bed I went.
The Morning Arrived
So kit on, bag on shoulder and out the door to the train station. There were a few Great South Runners at the train station. They're pretty easy to spot. You don't see many people doing the walk of shame in trainers and running kit at 8.30am on a cold and damp Sunday morning. I hooked up with my running buddy and friends for the slowest train journey on planet earth. All very helpful to aid a growing feeling of nervousness.
A Long Walk
So Portsmouth and Southsea train station ain't so close to the sea, or the starting line. And, so, before we'd even started running we had a 20 - 30 minute walk. I don't like being late. Being late stresses me out and makes me anxious. My hypnotherapy, running geek, tutor was going to run with me. He's completed umpteen marathons and is going to be doing ultra marathons?! Anyway he was going to run with my and my running buddy, keeping me mentally on track right up to that finishing line. So text messages, and phone calls on the long walk and we'd arranged a meeting spot.
Arriving at the Great South Run
We had to sort out our number things to safety pin on our tops. I wanted to get rid of that pint of tea that was sitting in my bladder and hook up with my hypno tutor. It was about 10.30 by now and finding anyone was going to be like finding your car at Glastonbury Festival wearing a blindfold. I went to find a loo, find my hypno tutor and get ready to rumble . . . I mean run.
All is Lost
And so, keeping an eye out me for my running buddy, I turned and managed to lose her. Bugger. And I couldn't find my hypno tutor. The que for the loos was worse than Glastonbury. And I was lost in a sea of people with a bladder full of tea about to run the furthest I've ever run in my life. And it has to be said, I felt a little anxious and not quite so excited as I had been.
The Race Starts
An invigorating warm up, not sooo easy to do when you are packed liked sardines next to each other all eager to get going. To get too involved with the warming up routine could have risked poking someones eye out or picking someones nose. And I was still anxious and still looking for my running chums before I had to admit defeat and realise that now the chances were pretty slim.
The crowd moves forward and before I knew it, I am crossing the start line and being cheered on by crowds of people I've never met, kids holding out their hands so you can clap them on the way past and it's a little intimidating. Being watched by all those people, sometimes shouting your name (it's on your t-shirt) by people you've never met. And there shortly after the start was an oasis. A toilet. I made a split second decision to use it. The last thing I wanted to do was be thinking about needing a pee for 10 miles. So I ran in, queued for a while, peed, and ran out. And now my run really started.
10 Miles - Alone but not Alone
And so I had to get into my run zone, to focus, to relax into it, along a route I'd never done before. And I did. I went at my own pace and just kept on going, and going, and going. The three mile marker seemed an awful lot longer than the three miles I usually ran but I guess Bupa know what they're doing when they put the markers up. The miles started clocking up though and then I was at five miles. This seemed way more difficult than all my other long runs. Then came six/seven miles. And you move away from the sea front, into the houses, straining to see around the next corner, hoping to see the start of the promenade, the start of the finish. At this point there are lots of walkers, lots of people walking and running, walking and running.
I couldn't walk. If I walked I wouldn't be able to run again. And so I continued to run, one foot at a time. A couple of times I nearly burst into tears as I ran. More tears of surprise at what I was doing and what I was achieving. I had to keep the crying at bay as I would surely sob the rest of the way round, and that wouldn't be pretty. Sobbing and sweaty!
The last couple of miles hurt. I felt as though shards of glass had taken up residence in my hip joints and I felt as though I'd had my legs replaced with those of a seven foot rugby player.
And there I was on the promenade.
Counting down now. Nine miles under the belt. 1km to go, 800 metres to go. Then 400 metres. The whole time just knowing that the only way I would stop is if my bones broke and my muscles ripped apart.
200 metres, then 100 metres. Amazingly my other half had spotted my coming up to the finish line and shouted. Seeing him waving, shouting me on, was the last push that I needed. In I went, under the finish line. I stopped, the marshals pulled off my chip and I was done, I'd finished, I'd run 10 miles. I'd done it 2:17:31. All this training and I had done it. And I just about managed not to sob.
I'd Done It
And so the rest of the day was spent in exhaustion. A long walk back to the station. A long train journey home, celebrated with Cava in plastic cups and Doritos.
And so now I am recovering, a little like a new born foal if I keep still for too long, but proud as punch and a little amazed and surprised.
So with a new achievement under my belt, it's onwards and upwards to my next racing challenge, to get fitter, stronger and faster than ever.
Big thanks to Adam Eason my Hypnotherapy Tutor for his inspiring wit and inspiration, to Gemma for being my running buddy and keeping me sane and running, to my other half Andy who's supported and encouraged me throughout and my friends, family and everyone whose enjoyed the blog.
And so now I'll rest, but not for long. I've got the bug and a new running challenge to find.
The night before felt a bit like getting prepared for a holiday; passport - check, money - check except this Saturday night was a bit more; number badge thing - check, safety pins - check, warm dry clothes - check, plastic cups - check, Doritos - check. Eventually I was happy that my morning would go without a hitch. Trainers at the door, running clothes laid out, alarm set and bag packed. And so off to bed I went.
The Morning Arrived
So kit on, bag on shoulder and out the door to the train station. There were a few Great South Runners at the train station. They're pretty easy to spot. You don't see many people doing the walk of shame in trainers and running kit at 8.30am on a cold and damp Sunday morning. I hooked up with my running buddy and friends for the slowest train journey on planet earth. All very helpful to aid a growing feeling of nervousness.
A Long Walk
So Portsmouth and Southsea train station ain't so close to the sea, or the starting line. And, so, before we'd even started running we had a 20 - 30 minute walk. I don't like being late. Being late stresses me out and makes me anxious. My hypnotherapy, running geek, tutor was going to run with me. He's completed umpteen marathons and is going to be doing ultra marathons?! Anyway he was going to run with my and my running buddy, keeping me mentally on track right up to that finishing line. So text messages, and phone calls on the long walk and we'd arranged a meeting spot.
Arriving at the Great South Run
We had to sort out our number things to safety pin on our tops. I wanted to get rid of that pint of tea that was sitting in my bladder and hook up with my hypno tutor. It was about 10.30 by now and finding anyone was going to be like finding your car at Glastonbury Festival wearing a blindfold. I went to find a loo, find my hypno tutor and get ready to rumble . . . I mean run.
All is Lost
And so, keeping an eye out me for my running buddy, I turned and managed to lose her. Bugger. And I couldn't find my hypno tutor. The que for the loos was worse than Glastonbury. And I was lost in a sea of people with a bladder full of tea about to run the furthest I've ever run in my life. And it has to be said, I felt a little anxious and not quite so excited as I had been.
The Race Starts
An invigorating warm up, not sooo easy to do when you are packed liked sardines next to each other all eager to get going. To get too involved with the warming up routine could have risked poking someones eye out or picking someones nose. And I was still anxious and still looking for my running chums before I had to admit defeat and realise that now the chances were pretty slim.
The crowd moves forward and before I knew it, I am crossing the start line and being cheered on by crowds of people I've never met, kids holding out their hands so you can clap them on the way past and it's a little intimidating. Being watched by all those people, sometimes shouting your name (it's on your t-shirt) by people you've never met. And there shortly after the start was an oasis. A toilet. I made a split second decision to use it. The last thing I wanted to do was be thinking about needing a pee for 10 miles. So I ran in, queued for a while, peed, and ran out. And now my run really started.
10 Miles - Alone but not Alone
And so I had to get into my run zone, to focus, to relax into it, along a route I'd never done before. And I did. I went at my own pace and just kept on going, and going, and going. The three mile marker seemed an awful lot longer than the three miles I usually ran but I guess Bupa know what they're doing when they put the markers up. The miles started clocking up though and then I was at five miles. This seemed way more difficult than all my other long runs. Then came six/seven miles. And you move away from the sea front, into the houses, straining to see around the next corner, hoping to see the start of the promenade, the start of the finish. At this point there are lots of walkers, lots of people walking and running, walking and running.
I couldn't walk. If I walked I wouldn't be able to run again. And so I continued to run, one foot at a time. A couple of times I nearly burst into tears as I ran. More tears of surprise at what I was doing and what I was achieving. I had to keep the crying at bay as I would surely sob the rest of the way round, and that wouldn't be pretty. Sobbing and sweaty!
The last couple of miles hurt. I felt as though shards of glass had taken up residence in my hip joints and I felt as though I'd had my legs replaced with those of a seven foot rugby player.
And there I was on the promenade.
Counting down now. Nine miles under the belt. 1km to go, 800 metres to go. Then 400 metres. The whole time just knowing that the only way I would stop is if my bones broke and my muscles ripped apart.
200 metres, then 100 metres. Amazingly my other half had spotted my coming up to the finish line and shouted. Seeing him waving, shouting me on, was the last push that I needed. In I went, under the finish line. I stopped, the marshals pulled off my chip and I was done, I'd finished, I'd run 10 miles. I'd done it 2:17:31. All this training and I had done it. And I just about managed not to sob.
I'd Done It
And so the rest of the day was spent in exhaustion. A long walk back to the station. A long train journey home, celebrated with Cava in plastic cups and Doritos.
And so now I am recovering, a little like a new born foal if I keep still for too long, but proud as punch and a little amazed and surprised.
So with a new achievement under my belt, it's onwards and upwards to my next racing challenge, to get fitter, stronger and faster than ever.
Big thanks to Adam Eason my Hypnotherapy Tutor for his inspiring wit and inspiration, to Gemma for being my running buddy and keeping me sane and running, to my other half Andy who's supported and encouraged me throughout and my friends, family and everyone whose enjoyed the blog.
And so now I'll rest, but not for long. I've got the bug and a new running challenge to find.
Sunday 21 October 2012
Seven More Sleeps Until the Great South Run
I will have a smile as wide as the moon. As in a week I will have completed the Great South Run. I'll have trained hard enough for the last five and half months so that I can run for 10 miles without stopping, I hope.
Another Milestone in Training
Last Saturday was yet another milestone in my Great South Training. Me and my esteemed running partner had our 14k run planned for Saturday morning. We figured we'd do pretty well as we'd done 12.59k just a couple of weeks before so 14k would be a piece of cake.
The preceding weeks have been exceedingly stressful so Friday night, I eventually sat down and relaxed without mapping the extra for our route. So I figured we'd wing it. We were meeting at 8.30am and so after a restless nights sleep I got up dragged on my running gear, necked a cup of tea, and got my ass over to meet my running partner.
We had a rough idea of distances from previous routes we'd run and decided to add on a section we'd run before but do it in reverse. We started with the 'in town' run, the traffic, the scenery not so nice, heading passed the hospital and into the woods around the golf course. Both of us doing well. Gem's trainer squeaking as she ran in front of me (now there's an incentive to run faster).
Lost in the Woods
Going into the woods from the other direction provided it's own challenges, like, navigation. Clearly being girls we were missing this crucial part of that bit of kit in our fluffy pink minds. So we scrambled up and down hills, through vast swathes of mud, until eventually we found our way back to the edge of the golf course and civilisation.
Golf Course Road
Anyone who knows Southampton might well know, Golf Course Road. Nothing particularly special about it. It does of course take you to . . . yes, you've guessed it. The Golf Course. It's a plain road, houses back onto it on one side, it's got road bumps in it, it's not big enough for two cars. But. It's bloody steep. Our last push before pretty much downhill all the way home. And so, a bit tired, I was still not going to let a little steep hill get in the way of my progress. And so we pushed, we swung our arms, we panted and we got there. We'd made it, now we just had the easy bit home.
Last Stretch Home
We ran, we visualised the crowds cheering us on either side, we visualised the finish line. I imagined oxygen flowing easily into my muscles, making the last stretch easier. And so we got back to where we started. Big high five, another EPIC run and we'd made it back safe and sound, despite getting lost and being covered in mud.
Wow, We'd Run Further
A few cups of tea and a shower later I checked out our route on Map My Run. I mapped, as best I could, well, we did get lost in the woods. Until the route joined up from where we started. And I was quite surprised. We'd run 14.42k, which is near as dammit 9 miles. Bloody hell, my feet, my legs, my lungs, my mind had carried me that far. Without wheels, without a car beneath my arse. And I was OK, I wasn't writhing on the floor in pain, or laid out on the bed with exhaustion. I was OK. And so yet again I'd surprised myself and what my body and head could achieve. And if I could do that, then the Great South was going to be a piece of cake!
Apocalyptic Storm Stops Run
We had planned a run on Wednesday, maybe five or six miles. But weather stopped play. The rain was coming down in sheets, rather than drops, the sky looked liked it would murder anyone who dared look at it, and the lightning was fabulous. Unfortunately this resulted in rather a lot of flooding on the roads and paths. We made a joint decision to give it a miss. The last thing I wanted was to fall over whilst running through a deep puddle and get an injury so close to the race. There would be a few expletives flying around if I'd got an injury.
So the last long Run
Today I ran 10k, on my own. My last long run before The Great South Run. I get moments of extreme nervousness but mostly I feel excited and am really looking forward to next Sunday and seeing my smile as wide as the moon.
So if you'd like to sponsor me, I'm running for Mind, you can at www.justgiving.com/Claire-Lincoln, Mind would really appreciate it.
We had a rough idea of distances from previous routes we'd run and decided to add on a section we'd run before but do it in reverse. We started with the 'in town' run, the traffic, the scenery not so nice, heading passed the hospital and into the woods around the golf course. Both of us doing well. Gem's trainer squeaking as she ran in front of me (now there's an incentive to run faster).
Lost in the Woods
Going into the woods from the other direction provided it's own challenges, like, navigation. Clearly being girls we were missing this crucial part of that bit of kit in our fluffy pink minds. So we scrambled up and down hills, through vast swathes of mud, until eventually we found our way back to the edge of the golf course and civilisation.
Golf Course Road
Anyone who knows Southampton might well know, Golf Course Road. Nothing particularly special about it. It does of course take you to . . . yes, you've guessed it. The Golf Course. It's a plain road, houses back onto it on one side, it's got road bumps in it, it's not big enough for two cars. But. It's bloody steep. Our last push before pretty much downhill all the way home. And so, a bit tired, I was still not going to let a little steep hill get in the way of my progress. And so we pushed, we swung our arms, we panted and we got there. We'd made it, now we just had the easy bit home.
Last Stretch Home
We ran, we visualised the crowds cheering us on either side, we visualised the finish line. I imagined oxygen flowing easily into my muscles, making the last stretch easier. And so we got back to where we started. Big high five, another EPIC run and we'd made it back safe and sound, despite getting lost and being covered in mud.
Wow, We'd Run Further
A few cups of tea and a shower later I checked out our route on Map My Run. I mapped, as best I could, well, we did get lost in the woods. Until the route joined up from where we started. And I was quite surprised. We'd run 14.42k, which is near as dammit 9 miles. Bloody hell, my feet, my legs, my lungs, my mind had carried me that far. Without wheels, without a car beneath my arse. And I was OK, I wasn't writhing on the floor in pain, or laid out on the bed with exhaustion. I was OK. And so yet again I'd surprised myself and what my body and head could achieve. And if I could do that, then the Great South was going to be a piece of cake!
Apocalyptic Storm Stops Run
We had planned a run on Wednesday, maybe five or six miles. But weather stopped play. The rain was coming down in sheets, rather than drops, the sky looked liked it would murder anyone who dared look at it, and the lightning was fabulous. Unfortunately this resulted in rather a lot of flooding on the roads and paths. We made a joint decision to give it a miss. The last thing I wanted was to fall over whilst running through a deep puddle and get an injury so close to the race. There would be a few expletives flying around if I'd got an injury.
So the last long Run
Today I ran 10k, on my own. My last long run before The Great South Run. I get moments of extreme nervousness but mostly I feel excited and am really looking forward to next Sunday and seeing my smile as wide as the moon.
So if you'd like to sponsor me, I'm running for Mind, you can at www.justgiving.com/Claire-Lincoln, Mind would really appreciate it.
Saturday 15 September 2012
It's The Final Countdown
Six Weeks Until The Great South Run
I looked up the lyrics for the song 'It's the Final Countdown' (the tune of said song now stuck in my head like warm chewing gum to jeans) and was quite saddened to discover quite how un-inspiring they really are. Despite believing that when sung at the top of my voice at various weddings, Christmas do's and other such events where cheesy songs were De rigour, it was A M A Z I N G.
Sadly no, it's cheese and is purely a tune that takes me back to another time.
10k, 6.21miles, quite a long way . . .
That's what I clocked up this morning. That's how far I ran without stopping, not even stopping for traffic. You must have seen them, those runners that jog up and down on the spot while waiting for a gap in the traffic. Yep, I do that now as well. Yep, I thought they looked like prats to.
This morning, 10k was my furthest distance to date and I feel quite proud, chuffed, ecstatic even. As the Great South Run looms, my training schedule increases. I never imagined that I would actually start to enjoy this running lark, that I would actually . . . well be excited by the prospect of a 10k run on a Saturday morning. I'm not really sure what's happened to me, I think I must have been invaded by aliens or is it simply an over 40 syndrome?
No longer are Friday nights, those boozy affairs and late night disco dancin till my feet were sore. Oh no, they are more likely to be NO booze, or maybe 1 pint, or 1 glass of wine and an early night as far as possible. All in an effort to get that 'PB'. Before I got into this lark, I'd over hear PB mentioned from time to time, and just thought it was a bit, you know, like, who cares if you knocked 10 seconds of your time, what's the big deal.
Yeah, well I've had to eat my hat, so to speak. Every second counts and as I've waited for my results to come through from 'parkrun', I've been waiting anxiously, thoughts running through my head; did I beat my last PB, it felt faster, maybe I shouldn't have had that glass of wine last night, was I last, oh my God am I getting slower?
So my 'parkrun' results so far have been:
14/07 - 38.52
04/08 - 40.01 (the night before this run, I'd had two large glasses of wine, gone to bed late and had been woken up about 2.30 by kids outside)
11/08 - 38.31
18/08 - 39.50 (this session I volunteered to be a pacer, and wanted to pace for 38, but was put down for 40)
25/08 - 38.20
01/09 - 37.54
08/09 - 36.47
All going, really rather remarkably in the right direction.
So increasing my running schedule has meant that 'parkrun' has taken a back seat, well at least in the short term anyway, until I've conquered the GSR at least.
My Bongadongs are no longer on fire
You'll be be very pleased to hear, a change of chest bindage was all that was required and to date I've not suffered the feeling that my boobs are being cut with a scalpel and acid poured in. Thank the Lord for the development of sports bras in stupid boob sizes.
So as my legs get stronger, my boobs hurt less, and my confidence soars my time to blog unfortunately decreases. Perhaps it'll just be short posts, maybe a post about another couple of seconds knocked off a race time, or perhaps a new bit of kit that has made my running a whole lot better.
So now I'm off to the pub to have myself a couple of those large glasses of wine in a congratulatory manner. You see, no running tomorrow, only homework.
So, if you'd just got that god awful song out of your head, just try and read the lyrics without hearing it. Oh, and good luck with getting that tune out of your head . . . again!
We're leaving together
But still it's farewell
And maybe we'll come back
To earth, who can tell?
I guess there is no one to blame
We're leaving ground
Will things ever be the same again?
It's the final countdown
The final countdown
Ohh
We're heading for Venus and still we stand tall
'Cause maybe they've seen us and welcome us all, yea
With so many light years to go and things to be found
(To be found)
I'm sure that we'll all miss her so
It's the final countdown
The final countdown
The final countdown
(The final countdown)
Ohh ho ohh
I looked up the lyrics for the song 'It's the Final Countdown' (the tune of said song now stuck in my head like warm chewing gum to jeans) and was quite saddened to discover quite how un-inspiring they really are. Despite believing that when sung at the top of my voice at various weddings, Christmas do's and other such events where cheesy songs were De rigour, it was A M A Z I N G.
Sadly no, it's cheese and is purely a tune that takes me back to another time.
10k, 6.21miles, quite a long way . . .
That's what I clocked up this morning. That's how far I ran without stopping, not even stopping for traffic. You must have seen them, those runners that jog up and down on the spot while waiting for a gap in the traffic. Yep, I do that now as well. Yep, I thought they looked like prats to.
This morning, 10k was my furthest distance to date and I feel quite proud, chuffed, ecstatic even. As the Great South Run looms, my training schedule increases. I never imagined that I would actually start to enjoy this running lark, that I would actually . . . well be excited by the prospect of a 10k run on a Saturday morning. I'm not really sure what's happened to me, I think I must have been invaded by aliens or is it simply an over 40 syndrome?
No longer are Friday nights, those boozy affairs and late night disco dancin till my feet were sore. Oh no, they are more likely to be NO booze, or maybe 1 pint, or 1 glass of wine and an early night as far as possible. All in an effort to get that 'PB'. Before I got into this lark, I'd over hear PB mentioned from time to time, and just thought it was a bit, you know, like, who cares if you knocked 10 seconds of your time, what's the big deal.
Yeah, well I've had to eat my hat, so to speak. Every second counts and as I've waited for my results to come through from 'parkrun', I've been waiting anxiously, thoughts running through my head; did I beat my last PB, it felt faster, maybe I shouldn't have had that glass of wine last night, was I last, oh my God am I getting slower?
So my 'parkrun' results so far have been:
14/07 - 38.52
04/08 - 40.01 (the night before this run, I'd had two large glasses of wine, gone to bed late and had been woken up about 2.30 by kids outside)
11/08 - 38.31
18/08 - 39.50 (this session I volunteered to be a pacer, and wanted to pace for 38, but was put down for 40)
25/08 - 38.20
01/09 - 37.54
08/09 - 36.47
All going, really rather remarkably in the right direction.
So increasing my running schedule has meant that 'parkrun' has taken a back seat, well at least in the short term anyway, until I've conquered the GSR at least.
My Bongadongs are no longer on fire
You'll be be very pleased to hear, a change of chest bindage was all that was required and to date I've not suffered the feeling that my boobs are being cut with a scalpel and acid poured in. Thank the Lord for the development of sports bras in stupid boob sizes.
So as my legs get stronger, my boobs hurt less, and my confidence soars my time to blog unfortunately decreases. Perhaps it'll just be short posts, maybe a post about another couple of seconds knocked off a race time, or perhaps a new bit of kit that has made my running a whole lot better.
So now I'm off to the pub to have myself a couple of those large glasses of wine in a congratulatory manner. You see, no running tomorrow, only homework.
So, if you'd just got that god awful song out of your head, just try and read the lyrics without hearing it. Oh, and good luck with getting that tune out of your head . . . again!
We're leaving together
But still it's farewell
And maybe we'll come back
To earth, who can tell?
I guess there is no one to blame
We're leaving ground
Will things ever be the same again?
It's the final countdown
The final countdown
Ohh
We're heading for Venus and still we stand tall
'Cause maybe they've seen us and welcome us all, yea
With so many light years to go and things to be found
(To be found)
I'm sure that we'll all miss her so
It's the final countdown
The final countdown
The final countdown
(The final countdown)
Ohh ho ohh
Wednesday 29 August 2012
My Bongadongs Are on Fire
Bank Holiday Weekend and it's Raining
Unfortunately it's not raining men, ho hum. I disappeared slightly there into imagining men falling from the sky, especially ones that look like Hugh Jackman. I digress, what's this blog about. Right I'm back, back into the room.
It's been raining, and I'm on holiday, so you'd be confused as to why I might feel so chipper about the rain? There are two huge reasons as to why I'm so chipper about the rain.
1. I'm indoors studying to finish my homework to become a qualified hypnotherapist and;
2. Running in cooler damp weather is much more pleasant than feeling like I'm running in my own portable oven!
There is something wonderfully cosy, being sat indoors, looking at the rain hit the window, whilst sat in my scomfiest clothes (scruffy and comfy clothes, you work it out), hot cup of tea and maybe the odd biscuit or two.
And it's wonderfully invigorating to be outside running in the fresh air, being able to breathe, not feeling like I've swollen up like a piece of old meat left out in the sun. So last Monday's run with the Lordshill Road Runners felt really, really tough. It was not more than I'd run before so should have been a piece of cake but maybe it was complacency about my mental well being towards my running. Last week I was on a running high after running five miles, a bit of a swagger ensued, a bit of I can do anything approach and maybe that was my downfall.
Hypnosis for Running www.hypnosisfordownload.com/hypnosis-for-running/ (now under a £10), had a hypnosis session about relaxing into running, being out there, engaging with what it was like and this helped my mental attitude to believe in myself to run further and to be able to do it easily, which I did. A swift kick, momentarily dazed the arrogant apprentice runner in me and so I got back on the horse so to speak!
parkrun
Saturday is now parkrun day, and this Saturday felt tough, the Fair was in town and sprawled across the common so a new route around the common was organised which appeared to be mostly uphill! Oh My God, uphill, and hot, it's so not fair (no pun intended), stamp my feet and throw my toys out of the pram. Anyway much to my surprise, this was a personal best for me. Woo hoo, I may be nearly last but I'm still improving, a little jig about, and some imaginary high fives in the air.
No More Drinking
Well not before an early morning run, as not drinking, a good nights kip and a bit of hypnosis do me the world of good and improve my run.
My Longest Run Yet
Bank Holiday Monday saw the dawning of my longest run to date, and I was ready for it. I'd slept well, I'd forgone the obligatory glass of wine and I'd done some hypnosis right before I left the house. And I went, and went, and went on my 8.92k route. There were no Paula Radcliffe moments and there was no stopping, not once. Man I was chuffed to bits and knackered. There was just one problem.
My Bongadongs Were on Fire
I had noticed from previous runs a little chaffing on the Bongadongs, on the underside but nothing to write home about (I mean the chaffing). Until now. <Insert expletive as loud and as rude as you can handle> it felt like someone had a red hot branding iron and was running a line across the underside of my boobs and then pouring on some vinegar, or salt, or some other unholy pain inducing chemical. All the while I was desperately using my imagination to think of other things, like 'my, my feet feel incredibly comfortable', whilst they pounded towards home and relief. Or 'wouldn't it be nice to kneel over two buckets of icy water and plop my boobs into them', oh, hang on a minute that wouldn't be so comfortable either. So my mind swung from OOoowwww, to ridiculous imaginings to divert my thoughts from the pain until at last the front door was in site.
Veteran Runners - Advice Please
I need your help, I'm sure there's something I can do to avert this torture happening again and avoid looking like I've stepped out of 50 Shades of Grey, so please give me an olive branch, let me know what I need to do to stop it happening again, apart from stop running of course.
Unfortunately it's not raining men, ho hum. I disappeared slightly there into imagining men falling from the sky, especially ones that look like Hugh Jackman. I digress, what's this blog about. Right I'm back, back into the room.
It's been raining, and I'm on holiday, so you'd be confused as to why I might feel so chipper about the rain? There are two huge reasons as to why I'm so chipper about the rain.
1. I'm indoors studying to finish my homework to become a qualified hypnotherapist and;
2. Running in cooler damp weather is much more pleasant than feeling like I'm running in my own portable oven!
There is something wonderfully cosy, being sat indoors, looking at the rain hit the window, whilst sat in my scomfiest clothes (scruffy and comfy clothes, you work it out), hot cup of tea and maybe the odd biscuit or two.
And it's wonderfully invigorating to be outside running in the fresh air, being able to breathe, not feeling like I've swollen up like a piece of old meat left out in the sun. So last Monday's run with the Lordshill Road Runners felt really, really tough. It was not more than I'd run before so should have been a piece of cake but maybe it was complacency about my mental well being towards my running. Last week I was on a running high after running five miles, a bit of a swagger ensued, a bit of I can do anything approach and maybe that was my downfall.
Hypnosis for Running www.hypnosisfordownload.com/hypnosis-for-running/ (now under a £10), had a hypnosis session about relaxing into running, being out there, engaging with what it was like and this helped my mental attitude to believe in myself to run further and to be able to do it easily, which I did. A swift kick, momentarily dazed the arrogant apprentice runner in me and so I got back on the horse so to speak!
parkrun
Saturday is now parkrun day, and this Saturday felt tough, the Fair was in town and sprawled across the common so a new route around the common was organised which appeared to be mostly uphill! Oh My God, uphill, and hot, it's so not fair (no pun intended), stamp my feet and throw my toys out of the pram. Anyway much to my surprise, this was a personal best for me. Woo hoo, I may be nearly last but I'm still improving, a little jig about, and some imaginary high fives in the air.
No More Drinking
Well not before an early morning run, as not drinking, a good nights kip and a bit of hypnosis do me the world of good and improve my run.
My Longest Run Yet
Bank Holiday Monday saw the dawning of my longest run to date, and I was ready for it. I'd slept well, I'd forgone the obligatory glass of wine and I'd done some hypnosis right before I left the house. And I went, and went, and went on my 8.92k route. There were no Paula Radcliffe moments and there was no stopping, not once. Man I was chuffed to bits and knackered. There was just one problem.
My Bongadongs Were on Fire
I had noticed from previous runs a little chaffing on the Bongadongs, on the underside but nothing to write home about (I mean the chaffing). Until now. <Insert expletive as loud and as rude as you can handle> it felt like someone had a red hot branding iron and was running a line across the underside of my boobs and then pouring on some vinegar, or salt, or some other unholy pain inducing chemical. All the while I was desperately using my imagination to think of other things, like 'my, my feet feel incredibly comfortable', whilst they pounded towards home and relief. Or 'wouldn't it be nice to kneel over two buckets of icy water and plop my boobs into them', oh, hang on a minute that wouldn't be so comfortable either. So my mind swung from OOoowwww, to ridiculous imaginings to divert my thoughts from the pain until at last the front door was in site.
Veteran Runners - Advice Please
I need your help, I'm sure there's something I can do to avert this torture happening again and avoid looking like I've stepped out of 50 Shades of Grey, so please give me an olive branch, let me know what I need to do to stop it happening again, apart from stop running of course.
Sunday 12 August 2012
The Time Snatcher
The Time Snatcher, unlike the Child Snatcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang comes in a huge variety of guises, some I'm prepared for, some I'm not, and some have been dressed up so beautifully with excuses I don't even notice them.
Over the last few weeks, my time has been snatched, which has eroded my running opportunities. A time snatcher I am never prepared for is 'The Migraine' referred to previously. I do believe however, that I allowed the Time Snatcher of excuses, to keep me stretched out on the sofa rather than go to parkrun. I did manage to drag my sorry arse out on Sunday and later on that week completed my first 5.2k early morning run which I was ecstatic about. Give me that High Five.
The next weekend was replete with Time Snatchers beyond my control but wonderful. I had volunteered to Marshal at parkrun and planned to run the route afterwards. Que family-in-law visit from France. Me and my partner don't see them very often and they were straight off the chunnel coming to have a wonderful artery clogging English Breakfast, so a quick dash back after marshalling to see everyone and stuff my face.
Sunshine was even a bloody Time Snatcher - I used to have a garden, now, mostly it resembles the garden of that neighbour, there's always one, who's garden needs a good tidy up! In the short dry spell gardening called, all afternoon, due to the jungle that was there. But late night visitors (long story) looking for a place to stay and consequently staying until lunchtime on Sunday resulted in another morning gone. And then there are the other chores that are required I had to do the weekly shop, washing etc. Excuses for not running pretty high this last week.
So in a week I had managed just one run. Bugger. It's hard not to let a little bit of panic creep in, how will I get fit enough to run 10 miles if these Time Snatchers keep creeping up on me. Shiv (those of you who have an old Nokia and used predictive text and were not averse to the odd profanity will get this. If you never had a Nokia, ask someone!)
So, shiv. How do I get back on it. Focus, flexibility, sheer bloody mindedness and hypnosis.
The Time Snatcher Kicked into Touch, Four Runs in a Week
Monday night with the Lordshill Road Runners, Thursday 6.20am start a nearly 5k. I say nearly, as nature called and I had to cut short my run to avoid a 'Paula Radcliffe'. Friday a short run, just a mile and then up and down a little hill near me six times. Friday night was a late one but my sheer bloodymindedness got me out of bed and off to parkrun, where my time was slower than two weeks earlier. Shiv, shiv, shiv!
Another Week Starts With Determination
Monday - Lordshill Road Runners again, we did about 6 - 7k around the common, without stopping, just a small group of us and it was great. We all felt fabulous and awfully proud of ourselves.
Que Time Snatcher! Late night call, well I say late, it was midnight, which isn't that late but when you are planning a 6am run, a midnight call is late, and then I couldn't get back to sleep for aaaages. Arrhhhh. Anyone who knows me well, will know that me without sleep is the equivalent of swapping my head and brain (Worzel Gummidge style) for Victor Meldrew. When the alarm went off at six it was swiftly turned off and replaced with a new time of 7. A missed run.
Hypnosis stops Time
Throughout all of my running journey I've been listening to Hypnosis for Running and even though I haven't been able to fit in as much as I would like. I am improving . . . slowly. I've been listening to my hypnosis about relaxing into my running every day this week and so I had renewed vigour for parkrun on Saturday and I wanted to run more. So I mapped out an extra mile to do before or after parkrun. Yes, 'crazy' I hear you cry. But I had an innermost desire to do more. Whether it's the Olympics, the hypnosis or my stubbornness I don't know. I just knew that I would.
Saturday morning arrived and off I trekked to the common getting there early with plenty of time to stick in an extra mile. It was decision time. I had a hot black coffee, the radio and a comfy seat and big arse (I am referring to mine) to sit on, in the car. Mmmm. The coffee and car didn't win. By jove, I got my arse out of that comfy position and ran that extra mile. Before the start of parkrun at 9. On a Saturday. Get me.
Running Support and I don't mean for the Bongadongs
Then I ran parkrun. It was a bloody fabulous run. There was a young lady who decided to keep pace with me the whole way round. We didn't speak, we were both listening to our music, but we kept pace with each other and it was a nice feeling, wow, another human whom I don't know just keeping me company in silence as we did the route. As we came to the finish line she pushed herself to get through faster. She had more than I did and so for a moment I was running alone. It was only a moment though as two of my chums who came for the first time on Saturday and are still faster than me (Goddammit, and who had already finished, double Goddammit) ran up the course and flanked me running in the last little bit. Sometimes it's the smallest things that people do for you that can give you the warmest glow.
So all in all I had run four miles that morning, my furthest yet and the best was yet to come.
I eagerly awaited the results from parkrun. Keen to see whether a good nights kip can improve your speed and as it happens, it can. 1 minute 40 seconds faster than last Saturday's parkrun and 21 seconds faster than my first parkrun. Bloody hell. I was improving. I spent the day as euphoric as Timmy Mallet discovering Specsavers.
No More Time Snatchers, Just Body Snatchers
I had planned to weigh myself or measure myself and provide regular updates but you know what, I don't need to. I know I'm getting stronger and little wobbly bits are being snatched away slowly but surely, and my clothes are fitting just a little more comfortably. But more importantly, I'm liking myself more and more with every run that I take.
Roll on the 8k run this week with Burnin by Baby Bumps in my ears.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8vMAwiXgjWY
Sunday 29 July 2012
Lost and Found . . . Confidence
Aren't you always astounded when you hear friends or family berate themselves for something they've done badly or perhaps the way they look. Comparing themselves to others unfavourably. And when someone you love or care about does that, it can make you wince, or perhaps feel a little hurt that they can be so hard on themselves. You know that they wouldn't ever talk to their friends in such a mean way so why is it OK to talk so harshly to ourselves in that way?
To those of you reading this who have never encountered the brutality of ones own inner harsh critic then you are indeed blessed.
Bullying is Cruel
To the unsuspecting and unprepared mind this is something that many of us do to ourselves, and we continue to let it happen. I have done this for many, many years and have, I believe, kept up a fabulous facade of wonderfulnuss. I'd like to remove the facade now, go down to the bare bricks and demonstrate over the coming weeks and months how hypnosis has and is changing my own personal bully and giving him the proverbial kick up the butt that he so rightly deserves.
Self Deprecation is Funny, Isn't it?
Don't we all laugh at those of us who take the mickey out of ourselves in good humour. After all, if we take the mickey out of ourselves, it's OK. Isn't it? It depends I suppose. All to often the bully wins, and the loudest bullies have their host perhaps overeating, drinking too much, smoking . . . I'm sure there are too many for me to write here. We all know that bullying must be stopped and that has to include the bully in our minds.
Kicking my Bully in to Touch
I have been extraordinarily lucky, I believe, to have mostly told mine to 'add expletive of choice here' right off. But sometimes he can rear his ugly head and get loud and nasty. He's been around recently and he's not very nice . . . Insults about looks generally; You look like 200lbs of chewed bubblegum, yeuch (after view in the mirror), you'll never get fit etc the list goes on. But now I have the mental equivalent of ninja tactics at my disposal.
After the parkrun
My results came through and after my initial euphoria of doing running the course my euphoria gave way to disappointment. I questioned how fast I was getting fit? It didn't seem enough? I questioned my natural ability to get fit? Maybe I couldn't? Maybe I wasn't doing enough. A general mental beating up.
Illness Hampers Progress
Goddammit. I'm supposed to be a paragon of health and fitness now that I've stopped smoking, started running and I've been plagued with more illness now compared to when my lifestyle was less than healthy! A migraine wiped me out last Friday evening and Saturday. I get the visual disturbances - which is basically lose about a third of my vision. Sometimes it's fleeting, sometimes it lasts for hours. Que horizontal, sofa association for the next 12 hours. I missed the parkrun but did manage to run on Sunday. Missed Monday LRRs as was out watching a musical in Woking! Was going to run on Tuesday after work but was exhausted and it was boiling.
All or Nothing Thinking
So as us hypnotherapists discuss with our clients, sometimes people will view a diet lost after having a slip up, or perhaps a smoker having a cigarette when out drinking with friends as they've blown it. This is not so.
We are human, we slip up, that's life, shit happens, get over yourself and carry on. So I did.
From one Extreme to Another
So the UK has been plagued with weeks and weeks of rain and then we are blessed with scorchio sunshine. How to cope with the sudden change? Where did I put those flip flops and that maxi dress? The bikini wearing is a definite no no this year but maybe next . . . .
With the sunshine beating down and the heat rising, running after work hasn't seemed quite so alluring? So being more of a morning person, as any regular reader will know I set my alarm for 6am ready to get that elusive run in. I'd gone to bed at 10pm after listening to more Hypnosis for Running and when the alarm went off at 6am I was ready.
I'd mapped a 5.2km route.
Que: music from Chariots of Fire.
And I ran.
And I didn't stop. Not once. This if a first for me, a personal best.
And I was amazed, overjoyed, proud, super smiley and really, really, bloody chuffed!
Que: Rocky Music http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZvEnIkz82A0 I implore you not to smile if you listen to this.
After the parkrun
My results came through and after my initial euphoria of doing running the course my euphoria gave way to disappointment. I questioned how fast I was getting fit? It didn't seem enough? I questioned my natural ability to get fit? Maybe I couldn't? Maybe I wasn't doing enough. A general mental beating up.
Illness Hampers Progress
Goddammit. I'm supposed to be a paragon of health and fitness now that I've stopped smoking, started running and I've been plagued with more illness now compared to when my lifestyle was less than healthy! A migraine wiped me out last Friday evening and Saturday. I get the visual disturbances - which is basically lose about a third of my vision. Sometimes it's fleeting, sometimes it lasts for hours. Que horizontal, sofa association for the next 12 hours. I missed the parkrun but did manage to run on Sunday. Missed Monday LRRs as was out watching a musical in Woking! Was going to run on Tuesday after work but was exhausted and it was boiling.
All or Nothing Thinking
So as us hypnotherapists discuss with our clients, sometimes people will view a diet lost after having a slip up, or perhaps a smoker having a cigarette when out drinking with friends as they've blown it. This is not so.
We are human, we slip up, that's life, shit happens, get over yourself and carry on. So I did.
From one Extreme to Another
So the UK has been plagued with weeks and weeks of rain and then we are blessed with scorchio sunshine. How to cope with the sudden change? Where did I put those flip flops and that maxi dress? The bikini wearing is a definite no no this year but maybe next . . . .
With the sunshine beating down and the heat rising, running after work hasn't seemed quite so alluring? So being more of a morning person, as any regular reader will know I set my alarm for 6am ready to get that elusive run in. I'd gone to bed at 10pm after listening to more Hypnosis for Running and when the alarm went off at 6am I was ready.
I'd mapped a 5.2km route.
Que: music from Chariots of Fire.
And I ran.
And I didn't stop. Not once. This if a first for me, a personal best.
And I was amazed, overjoyed, proud, super smiley and really, really, bloody chuffed!
Que: Rocky Music http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZvEnIkz82A0 I implore you not to smile if you listen to this.
Saturday 14 July 2012
If you go down to the woods today . . . .
I do hope that you read the title with the tune going through your mind . . . you'll be sure of a big surprise. I could go on, it's quite a nice bouncy tune but not one for my running list.
Running before 7am, You Must be Mad
Running in the morning, early, 'can she do it', 'yes she can'! Last Saturday saw the alarm at the earlier time of 6.10am. And last Saturday, if you were down on the South Coast, you know it was hideous. Lashing wind and rain with no let up and it was exactly like that at 6.20am. No need to worry about sweat marks today, I was one giant sweat mark, like I'd been sat in a bath with all my clothes on. I did learn one thing about running in the rain though, bits of you rub against your clothes that didn't rub before. Now I get what the Vaseline is for.
My Network of Support and I'm not talking about Bridget Jones' Pants
This network has been invaluable to help me keep going, getting me out of bed in the morning so I'd just like to take a moment to say a big thank you to all those who are aware of my running quest and my concern about the early morning runs. There are a regular few, who, when I'm planning an early morning run, which I post on Facebook (and then whine about it) will, if they are up, encourage me with comments of 'Are you up yet', or 'Get your arse out of bed' etc by commenting on my comment on FB which means my phone jingle jangles and there's no getting away from the comment I've made and the commitment to run. The fact that I've made a public commitment, followed by encouragement from friends - also up that early(?) makes a huge difference. I don't want to let anyone down and least of all myself.
Another before 7am Run - Crazy Arse Bird
Thing is, I really want to complete the Great South Run. And I don't want to cross the finish line horizontal, crawling commando style, ripping my fingernails out as I drag myself over the tarmac. Upright would be preferable. Completed without walking would also be preferable. And not last would be most preferable of all. Increasing my fitness and running prowess is going to require, therefore, some dedication, with at least three runs a week . . . to start.
Life is a little hectic at the moment so the early morning runs are a necessity. Last weekend I was in Bournemouth for the last of my Hypno training, and I've had my clients/case studies in the evenings this last week, hence the early morning runs. Which, running on Thursday morning was amazing. The sky was completely blue, with a big yellow thing in it. I must do some research to find out what it was.
If you go down to the woods today you'll be sure of a big surprise . . .
To see me hoofing myself round a 5k route on Southampton common. This was 'parkrun' a nationwide event, every Saturday all over the country. You sign-up to get your bar code which is used to measure your time each week. Run 5K, cross the finish line, get your bar code at the end and you'll be emailed your results. I'm still waiting for mine. But I can tell you now I'm not in the top ten!
I was thinking more tortoise and the hare when I set off, quickly reaching the lofty heights of last. So the tortoise bit was clearly one of my strengths, lets just see if I had any others. Even though this isn't a race 'so to speak' you get a certain feeling of competitiveness. Now, growing up an only child, I have no such competitive urges, only really to beat myself. Today's competitive urge was to NOT walk the route. I nearly did it, I walked twice for a short period. This is the best I've ever done so far as my running career goes and it feels great and I have to pat myself on the back. Years ago I started running without any support and remember telling my (unconventional) Dad that I'd been running, properly chuffed with myself, he asked 'What did you steal?'. Still makes me smile today but perhaps, well done, you keep on going, might have been better. Not half so much comedic value though.
So today I've run three miles and I survived. In true tortoise and hare style though I also, didn't finish last (insert smug smiley face). I just need to do that three times over and a little bit and the Great South Run is a piece of cake! I say to the Great South Run, you will not take me prisoner, or see me crawling commando style across the finish line. I will finish in true Homsapien style.
So the running plan for the GSR is in production, nearly finished. And the Adam Eason hypnotherapy for Running http://www.hypnosisfordownload.com/hypnosis-for-running/ starts in earnest.
Over and out, until the next run, thankfully an evening one.
Running before 7am, You Must be Mad
Running in the morning, early, 'can she do it', 'yes she can'! Last Saturday saw the alarm at the earlier time of 6.10am. And last Saturday, if you were down on the South Coast, you know it was hideous. Lashing wind and rain with no let up and it was exactly like that at 6.20am. No need to worry about sweat marks today, I was one giant sweat mark, like I'd been sat in a bath with all my clothes on. I did learn one thing about running in the rain though, bits of you rub against your clothes that didn't rub before. Now I get what the Vaseline is for.
My Network of Support and I'm not talking about Bridget Jones' Pants
This network has been invaluable to help me keep going, getting me out of bed in the morning so I'd just like to take a moment to say a big thank you to all those who are aware of my running quest and my concern about the early morning runs. There are a regular few, who, when I'm planning an early morning run, which I post on Facebook (and then whine about it) will, if they are up, encourage me with comments of 'Are you up yet', or 'Get your arse out of bed' etc by commenting on my comment on FB which means my phone jingle jangles and there's no getting away from the comment I've made and the commitment to run. The fact that I've made a public commitment, followed by encouragement from friends - also up that early(?) makes a huge difference. I don't want to let anyone down and least of all myself.
Another before 7am Run - Crazy Arse Bird
Thing is, I really want to complete the Great South Run. And I don't want to cross the finish line horizontal, crawling commando style, ripping my fingernails out as I drag myself over the tarmac. Upright would be preferable. Completed without walking would also be preferable. And not last would be most preferable of all. Increasing my fitness and running prowess is going to require, therefore, some dedication, with at least three runs a week . . . to start.
Life is a little hectic at the moment so the early morning runs are a necessity. Last weekend I was in Bournemouth for the last of my Hypno training, and I've had my clients/case studies in the evenings this last week, hence the early morning runs. Which, running on Thursday morning was amazing. The sky was completely blue, with a big yellow thing in it. I must do some research to find out what it was.
If you go down to the woods today you'll be sure of a big surprise . . .
To see me hoofing myself round a 5k route on Southampton common. This was 'parkrun' a nationwide event, every Saturday all over the country. You sign-up to get your bar code which is used to measure your time each week. Run 5K, cross the finish line, get your bar code at the end and you'll be emailed your results. I'm still waiting for mine. But I can tell you now I'm not in the top ten!
I was thinking more tortoise and the hare when I set off, quickly reaching the lofty heights of last. So the tortoise bit was clearly one of my strengths, lets just see if I had any others. Even though this isn't a race 'so to speak' you get a certain feeling of competitiveness. Now, growing up an only child, I have no such competitive urges, only really to beat myself. Today's competitive urge was to NOT walk the route. I nearly did it, I walked twice for a short period. This is the best I've ever done so far as my running career goes and it feels great and I have to pat myself on the back. Years ago I started running without any support and remember telling my (unconventional) Dad that I'd been running, properly chuffed with myself, he asked 'What did you steal?'. Still makes me smile today but perhaps, well done, you keep on going, might have been better. Not half so much comedic value though.
So today I've run three miles and I survived. In true tortoise and hare style though I also, didn't finish last (insert smug smiley face). I just need to do that three times over and a little bit and the Great South Run is a piece of cake! I say to the Great South Run, you will not take me prisoner, or see me crawling commando style across the finish line. I will finish in true Homsapien style.
So the running plan for the GSR is in production, nearly finished. And the Adam Eason hypnotherapy for Running http://www.hypnosisfordownload.com/hypnosis-for-running/ starts in earnest.
Over and out, until the next run, thankfully an evening one.
Friday 6 July 2012
Catching Mice in My Sleep
Sleep Deprivation and Running
In my last post I'd had an amazing run with the LRR I'd felt amazing, my pace was good, I was able to put one foot in front of another without having to take many breaks, and if I did take a break it was short, I recovered well and stomped on. Our leader thought we'd done about four miles, I think it was closer to three and a half. I guess it doesn't really matter, I felt amazing, on top of the world, better than Julie Andrews on top of a mountain. The rain didn't matter . . . The buzz continued well into the evening, my latest blog was written, more homework and client preparation work done and eventually I conceded defeat to leave the laptop alone and get some well earned rest. And so to bed I went. Read a bit of Paul Britton, _ Picking Up the Pieces and realised that some of the techniques he used I was also using and knew how to do (I surprised myself, this hypnosis stuff is really sticking to my brain). And then allowed myself the luxury of drifting off for a well earned recovery sleep.
Mind said YES the body said NO. After feeling cold for about an hour, conceded to drag my sorry arse downstairs and get myself a hot water bottle. It's 12.30 at this point. Read a little more, eventually go to sleep. Wake about 3.30 am in a feverish sweat and eventually fall asleep about 4.30 and then Yey, the alarm is ringing in my ears at 6.45. Hurrah, now I have a days work and as yet it's not a day of hypnosis clients, the day job is still facilitating the finances, not long now though.
I'm not great when I'm tired. Positively grumpy in fact. But as a student of hypnosis I gave myself some positive chat about it was just a physical feeling and all would be well with the world. That evening I was meeting with old work colleagues for a curry (not a boozy night) then heading off home to see my partner and an early night. Or so I thought! My other half is a night owl and needs noise to get to sleep. I am not, and don't. Mixing this together is about as pleasant as drinking a Brain Hemorrhage (if you've never done it read all about it here http://liquorists.blogspot.co.uk/2009/10/brain-hemorrhage.html). The nights sleep further punctuated by a pounding headache at about 4am which I had to get up for and take pain killers, swiftly followed by my alarm clock. None of this makes for a excellent nights sleep. Feign surprise.
The Invisible Client
I managed to make it through the day and left a little early to make sure the house was clean and fresh for my client, I'd done all the prep, just needed to don my housecoat, put the hoover round and fluff the flowers.
As I waited for 8pm to roll round, it dawned on me that it wasn't the 11th July it was in fact the 4th July. It was the 11th July my client was due. Light the fireworks, crack open the Champagne and allow the wallow to begin, the slow melt into the sofa of sleep with mind melting television to stare at. My new found joy at the prospect of a relaxing evening and an early night with a deep sleep was extraordinarily exciting.
But short lived.
Skinned Cat Handbag Anyone?
The long climb up the stairs to the bedroom were hard, but I made it, I've been running don't you know. Soon the comfort of my fabulous bed was wrapped around me, swiftly followed by the enveloping dark, velvety spendidnous of sleep. Ahhhh . . . .
2am - there's something in the house. Bollocks. That's my cat. And that's my cat with the distinctive Meow of 'Wow, look what I've brought you, aren't you just so proud of me'. My mind initially blank, as I jumped out of bed, looked for something to catch a mouse in, wrestled the cat out of the bedroom, caught mouse in said receptacle, released mouse to a life of freedom (if he can run fast enough. I'm thinking Tron, the original, that mouse is gonna have to be fast to survive). Retired to bed, cursed the cat, and waited for sleep to arrive. Which it did. Eventually AT ABOUT 3AM. I'm not sure if you can tell but my patience was wearing a little thin. But, ahhhh, allow yourself to relax.
Until 4AM!! Another comedic mouse chase ensued. Mouse climbed in my new shoe. I grabbed the shoe to save the mouse, carried it out into the hallway. The mouse jumped out of the peep toe, landed in the hallway with a thud. I turned to turn on the light, turned back. No mouse. Cat still looking for mouse in the other shoe (and they say cats are intelligent).
Return to bed. Ready to cry. And enjoy the snippets of sleep until the alarm goes off. I awoke feeling a little like this . . .
and went to work.
The day didn't start great but did improve and I ended up looking and feeling a little more human. I embraced the M3 dressed in my running gear to meet my chum to run around the common and hoped that I wouldn't scare small children.
The Zombie Run
It wasn't great. I was tired, I was grumpy, I was slow and I stopped more than I did on Monday. But I was running. In spite of my lack of sleep I was still running. I was surprised. I've never yet had this level of commitment to something that I didn't really have to do. And here was this zombie, sweating and pink, still putting one foot in front of another around the common and through the cemetery and I did it. I completed the small route and I didn't cave in to the sofa desires straight from work.
The sofa became my friend as did a glass of wine, followed by a bath, some crap TV and my bed. And I slept . . . . all the way through until today, no mice, no noise. Just unadulterated sleep. And relax.
The Saturday Run
Today has been productive. Some homework completed. Toenails painted for the party tomorrow night. Outfit sorted, everything has been pretty good apart from my computer skills which seemed to have failed me consistently this morning. Those of you on the Hub of Hypnosis will understand and I'm sure my humiliation will continue well into the weekend. I may tell that story another time.
To get my third run in this week it requires that I'm up and out of the door by 6.20am. Yes, 6.20am. But you know what, I'm quite excited. I've done it before and the high I got from an early morning run was immense. Every time I achieve a run, on my own, early in the morning my belief increases that little bit more. I can picture me running past the finish line in October bursting with pride, fit and healthy and believing that I can achieve anything. This is the vision I'll be using every time I'm tired or the sofa is calling my name.
Tron, eat your heart out.
In my last post I'd had an amazing run with the LRR I'd felt amazing, my pace was good, I was able to put one foot in front of another without having to take many breaks, and if I did take a break it was short, I recovered well and stomped on. Our leader thought we'd done about four miles, I think it was closer to three and a half. I guess it doesn't really matter, I felt amazing, on top of the world, better than Julie Andrews on top of a mountain. The rain didn't matter . . . The buzz continued well into the evening, my latest blog was written, more homework and client preparation work done and eventually I conceded defeat to leave the laptop alone and get some well earned rest. And so to bed I went. Read a bit of Paul Britton, _ Picking Up the Pieces and realised that some of the techniques he used I was also using and knew how to do (I surprised myself, this hypnosis stuff is really sticking to my brain). And then allowed myself the luxury of drifting off for a well earned recovery sleep.
Mind said YES the body said NO. After feeling cold for about an hour, conceded to drag my sorry arse downstairs and get myself a hot water bottle. It's 12.30 at this point. Read a little more, eventually go to sleep. Wake about 3.30 am in a feverish sweat and eventually fall asleep about 4.30 and then Yey, the alarm is ringing in my ears at 6.45. Hurrah, now I have a days work and as yet it's not a day of hypnosis clients, the day job is still facilitating the finances, not long now though.
I'm not great when I'm tired. Positively grumpy in fact. But as a student of hypnosis I gave myself some positive chat about it was just a physical feeling and all would be well with the world. That evening I was meeting with old work colleagues for a curry (not a boozy night) then heading off home to see my partner and an early night. Or so I thought! My other half is a night owl and needs noise to get to sleep. I am not, and don't. Mixing this together is about as pleasant as drinking a Brain Hemorrhage (if you've never done it read all about it here http://liquorists.blogspot.co.uk/2009/10/brain-hemorrhage.html). The nights sleep further punctuated by a pounding headache at about 4am which I had to get up for and take pain killers, swiftly followed by my alarm clock. None of this makes for a excellent nights sleep. Feign surprise.
The Invisible Client
I managed to make it through the day and left a little early to make sure the house was clean and fresh for my client, I'd done all the prep, just needed to don my housecoat, put the hoover round and fluff the flowers.
As I waited for 8pm to roll round, it dawned on me that it wasn't the 11th July it was in fact the 4th July. It was the 11th July my client was due. Light the fireworks, crack open the Champagne and allow the wallow to begin, the slow melt into the sofa of sleep with mind melting television to stare at. My new found joy at the prospect of a relaxing evening and an early night with a deep sleep was extraordinarily exciting.
But short lived.
Skinned Cat Handbag Anyone?
The long climb up the stairs to the bedroom were hard, but I made it, I've been running don't you know. Soon the comfort of my fabulous bed was wrapped around me, swiftly followed by the enveloping dark, velvety spendidnous of sleep. Ahhhh . . . .
2am - there's something in the house. Bollocks. That's my cat. And that's my cat with the distinctive Meow of 'Wow, look what I've brought you, aren't you just so proud of me'. My mind initially blank, as I jumped out of bed, looked for something to catch a mouse in, wrestled the cat out of the bedroom, caught mouse in said receptacle, released mouse to a life of freedom (if he can run fast enough. I'm thinking Tron, the original, that mouse is gonna have to be fast to survive). Retired to bed, cursed the cat, and waited for sleep to arrive. Which it did. Eventually AT ABOUT 3AM. I'm not sure if you can tell but my patience was wearing a little thin. But, ahhhh, allow yourself to relax.
Until 4AM!! Another comedic mouse chase ensued. Mouse climbed in my new shoe. I grabbed the shoe to save the mouse, carried it out into the hallway. The mouse jumped out of the peep toe, landed in the hallway with a thud. I turned to turn on the light, turned back. No mouse. Cat still looking for mouse in the other shoe (and they say cats are intelligent).
Return to bed. Ready to cry. And enjoy the snippets of sleep until the alarm goes off. I awoke feeling a little like this . . .
and went to work.
The day didn't start great but did improve and I ended up looking and feeling a little more human. I embraced the M3 dressed in my running gear to meet my chum to run around the common and hoped that I wouldn't scare small children.
The Zombie Run
It wasn't great. I was tired, I was grumpy, I was slow and I stopped more than I did on Monday. But I was running. In spite of my lack of sleep I was still running. I was surprised. I've never yet had this level of commitment to something that I didn't really have to do. And here was this zombie, sweating and pink, still putting one foot in front of another around the common and through the cemetery and I did it. I completed the small route and I didn't cave in to the sofa desires straight from work.
The sofa became my friend as did a glass of wine, followed by a bath, some crap TV and my bed. And I slept . . . . all the way through until today, no mice, no noise. Just unadulterated sleep. And relax.
The Saturday Run
Today has been productive. Some homework completed. Toenails painted for the party tomorrow night. Outfit sorted, everything has been pretty good apart from my computer skills which seemed to have failed me consistently this morning. Those of you on the Hub of Hypnosis will understand and I'm sure my humiliation will continue well into the weekend. I may tell that story another time.
To get my third run in this week it requires that I'm up and out of the door by 6.20am. Yes, 6.20am. But you know what, I'm quite excited. I've done it before and the high I got from an early morning run was immense. Every time I achieve a run, on my own, early in the morning my belief increases that little bit more. I can picture me running past the finish line in October bursting with pride, fit and healthy and believing that I can achieve anything. This is the vision I'll be using every time I'm tired or the sofa is calling my name.
Tron, eat your heart out.
Monday 2 July 2012
From 0 to 3 in 7 days
From a week of self flagellation to a week of abusing my leg muscles
Oooh it's been a while since I posted and so much has happened since the last self abusive blog post I put up. Nothing too exciting, I haven't won the lottery and Jonny Depp hasn't asked me out on a date yet (give it time, the break up is still new) but I have upped my running.
So, I joined the Lordshill Road Runners (LRR) and ran with Father Christmas, ran in the rain, all shouty and proud and I also ran on the Saturday. I ran three times in a week! I'd gone from 0 to 3 in a week, not as impressive as a Ferrari but more impressive than a Daewoo Matiz. Imagine if you will a sort of Jackie Chan pose, punching the space in front of you, shouting 'Get In'. Or alternatively giving yourself a pat on the back (I can do that as I have hypermobile joints, not so sure it's so good for the long term health of them to keep extending them?). My belief and excitement grows with every run that I do and it continues to improve. I'm running further before stopping and stopping less and for shorter periods of time. I'm extraordinarily glad that I never listened to my mother who believes that God wouldn't have invented cars if we were meant to use our legs! It's great to be rebellious sometimes.
The increased running activity rolled into the Monday with week two with the LRR. Mmm, something had possessed my legs, or my self belief or my lung capacity. I was rubbish and I mean R U B B I S H. I kept stopping, more than I'd done in weeks. My legs felt heavier, like someone had snuck weights into the soles of my trainers, and lead lined my socks. I sweated and I heaved myself round but I just wasn't that great and I felt bad about it. Surely my fitness should be increasing, not decreasing. I do hope that I'm not one of those unfortunate few whose genes dictate that they just won't get fit (there was a whole programme about this, I'm pretty sure it was Panorama as well)? If I am I'll just go get myself a Daewoo Matiz and be done with it. Hurrumph.
A friend who comes with me had decided to go into the next group up as she's fitter and lighter than me. And she did five miles with her group and while I was really, really chuffed I felt a tinge of jealousy.Why couldn't I run that far yet? I've been going out for about two months now, why aren't I shooting round the common in no time and a size 10 already? In my head I was stamping my foot, and crossing my arms whining that it wasn't fair, Nelly the Elephant looming loud in my ears with a sub woofer and the volume turned up high. And I decided to stop that, I had a word with myself, turned the music down, changed the tune and moved on.
Morning runs
Not the kind after a particularly vehement curry, but the trainers and alarm clock type of run. After my success with three runs in a week I wanted to carry it on. And having busy evenings with preparation for a hypno client, and seeing the client I had to fit one in somehow. The only conclusion was that it was going to have to be an early morning run. Now for me to get to work in a timely manner requires leaving the house about 8 ish, so to fit in a run requires getting up about 6 ish. Ouch. The words of my mother were ringing in my ears. I thought it likely that the bed would be victorious over trainers. Running gear was laid out like a brides wedding dress before the big day. Alarm was set. Whining about it on Facebook had been completed. Sleeping commenced. Alarm clock started. Snooze button was hit. The internal dialogue started. I was saved by a good friend who happened to also be up at that ungodly hour and posted on Facebook 'Are you running yet?' That was all it took, the PJ's slipped to the floor, the Bongadong scaffolding was applied, wick away shorts, double skin socks, hair scraped back to create a mini facelift, trainers at the door and I was off.
It was bloody marvelous. I felt high as a kite, I'm sure you could get an equivalent feeling by having a line of cocaine with your Cornflakes and coffee (if that was your thing) but I got mine because I ran. And because I was pushing towards a future that I believe in and want. Because I'm eventually getting it, this thing called self belief, this treating yourself nicely with a bit of respect. I'm really, really getting it and it beats the evil sofa, the glasses of wine, the extra hour in bed, the big bags of sweets . . .
Oooh it's been a while since I posted and so much has happened since the last self abusive blog post I put up. Nothing too exciting, I haven't won the lottery and Jonny Depp hasn't asked me out on a date yet (give it time, the break up is still new) but I have upped my running.
So, I joined the Lordshill Road Runners (LRR) and ran with Father Christmas, ran in the rain, all shouty and proud and I also ran on the Saturday. I ran three times in a week! I'd gone from 0 to 3 in a week, not as impressive as a Ferrari but more impressive than a Daewoo Matiz. Imagine if you will a sort of Jackie Chan pose, punching the space in front of you, shouting 'Get In'. Or alternatively giving yourself a pat on the back (I can do that as I have hypermobile joints, not so sure it's so good for the long term health of them to keep extending them?). My belief and excitement grows with every run that I do and it continues to improve. I'm running further before stopping and stopping less and for shorter periods of time. I'm extraordinarily glad that I never listened to my mother who believes that God wouldn't have invented cars if we were meant to use our legs! It's great to be rebellious sometimes.
The increased running activity rolled into the Monday with week two with the LRR. Mmm, something had possessed my legs, or my self belief or my lung capacity. I was rubbish and I mean R U B B I S H. I kept stopping, more than I'd done in weeks. My legs felt heavier, like someone had snuck weights into the soles of my trainers, and lead lined my socks. I sweated and I heaved myself round but I just wasn't that great and I felt bad about it. Surely my fitness should be increasing, not decreasing. I do hope that I'm not one of those unfortunate few whose genes dictate that they just won't get fit (there was a whole programme about this, I'm pretty sure it was Panorama as well)? If I am I'll just go get myself a Daewoo Matiz and be done with it. Hurrumph.
A friend who comes with me had decided to go into the next group up as she's fitter and lighter than me. And she did five miles with her group and while I was really, really chuffed I felt a tinge of jealousy.Why couldn't I run that far yet? I've been going out for about two months now, why aren't I shooting round the common in no time and a size 10 already? In my head I was stamping my foot, and crossing my arms whining that it wasn't fair, Nelly the Elephant looming loud in my ears with a sub woofer and the volume turned up high. And I decided to stop that, I had a word with myself, turned the music down, changed the tune and moved on.
Morning runs
Not the kind after a particularly vehement curry, but the trainers and alarm clock type of run. After my success with three runs in a week I wanted to carry it on. And having busy evenings with preparation for a hypno client, and seeing the client I had to fit one in somehow. The only conclusion was that it was going to have to be an early morning run. Now for me to get to work in a timely manner requires leaving the house about 8 ish, so to fit in a run requires getting up about 6 ish. Ouch. The words of my mother were ringing in my ears. I thought it likely that the bed would be victorious over trainers. Running gear was laid out like a brides wedding dress before the big day. Alarm was set. Whining about it on Facebook had been completed. Sleeping commenced. Alarm clock started. Snooze button was hit. The internal dialogue started. I was saved by a good friend who happened to also be up at that ungodly hour and posted on Facebook 'Are you running yet?' That was all it took, the PJ's slipped to the floor, the Bongadong scaffolding was applied, wick away shorts, double skin socks, hair scraped back to create a mini facelift, trainers at the door and I was off.
It was bloody marvelous. I felt high as a kite, I'm sure you could get an equivalent feeling by having a line of cocaine with your Cornflakes and coffee (if that was your thing) but I got mine because I ran. And because I was pushing towards a future that I believe in and want. Because I'm eventually getting it, this thing called self belief, this treating yourself nicely with a bit of respect. I'm really, really getting it and it beats the evil sofa, the glasses of wine, the extra hour in bed, the big bags of sweets . . .
The Jedi Runners
And now the training starts in earnest with Adam Eason's Hypnosis for Running and the Jedi Runners for support. The hypnosis will start and perhaps more early morning runs to get me to that 10 mile fitness goal.
And tonight . . .
With the LRR, we ran about four miles. More than I've ever done, with less stops and more running. Que Jackie Chan stance while shouting 'Get In'.
And now the training starts in earnest with Adam Eason's Hypnosis for Running and the Jedi Runners for support. The hypnosis will start and perhaps more early morning runs to get me to that 10 mile fitness goal.
And tonight . . .
With the LRR, we ran about four miles. More than I've ever done, with less stops and more running. Que Jackie Chan stance while shouting 'Get In'.
Friday 22 June 2012
Too Run or Not to Run, That Is The Question
A Week Without Running
Wow, a whole week, believe me I have felt the guilt, and thought that I 'should' go for a run. That I 'must' go for a run, but I have a plethora of valid excuses in my proverbial handbag.
Man Flu was my first excuse at the beginning of the week. Yes, yes I know I'm not a bloke, but I'm also very unused to feeling even remotely poorly. It seems that smoking does, in fact, have some health benefits. I can hear you scoffing 'balderdash' and 'piffle' but let me tell you it's true (please don't be concerned that I've started again, I haven't, not even a puff, even being in another's smoke is not nice). Apparently the vast quantities of toxins and nasty stuff that live in cigarettes is quite good at killing off bugs, colds bugs, sore throat bugs and all things bug like that create Man Flu. So a couple of Sunday's ago my throat got sore, and continued on it's course to make me feel rather rubbish. I figured I'd get over it, a good nights kip, oh no, on it's course it continued, goddammit, all the way into Monday which saw Monday closing at a very un-respectable 9pm, in PJ's feeling incredibly sorry for myself. No running took place on Monday, nor on Tuesday. Wednesday saw the arrival of new carpet in my, now, therapy room with some rapid furniture moving and gluing taking place until late. Thursday was booked with a hypnotherapy client and Friday was of course footy night. Nice one England (high five). Saturday opened with a slightly jaded run down feeling, followed by the movies, and then a trip to Portsmouth to meet my long lost Welsh little brother for a bite to eat, arriving home on Sat at about 10pm. Knackered.
And then there were trainers
Determined not to go the weekend without running I set my alarm for Sunday morning at 8.30. Yeah . . . a little bit sad, on a Sunday? My alarm went off, I got up, and my trainers magically appeared on my feet, my iPod plugged in, hardcore dance tunes ready to promote the pounding of my feet, and I was out of the door.
Bloody hell it felt good to be out. The sun was shining, I had some good tunes going on and my feet were moving in front of one another faster than a walk (but not much faster). I realised that I hadn't beaten myself up with my internal dialogue, or given up because I actually couldn't manage a run for a week, that life is busy and it's OK when you can't always do what you want to do, shit happens, get over it. And so I decided to join a running club.
The Running Club
The tune I have running through my head as I write is the Chariots of Fire theme tune, you can hear it here in case you've been living on another planet and have no idea what it sounds like http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9myoXFk-O4U but the other tune running through my head (no pun intended) is Nelly the Elephant http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_a-m3pH9Dr8. The running club meet at 6.30 on the grass triangle, on the common, opposite the Belmoor Pub in Southampton. I was nervous. I was nervous that I was going to be the only person looking like a Ribena Berry person at the end of it, that I'd be trailing behind, lost in the common as it got darker, hearing strange noises, just like a horror movie, that other runners would be tutting as they waited for me. It wasn't like that. Not like that at all.
Running with Father Christmas
There were a lot of newbie runners, about 10 -12 of us I think. And we were all under the careful watch of two veteran runners. One of them, I'm sure was old enough to be my Grandad (God rest his soul), a shock of white hair (who looked a little like Father Christmas), who runs 10 - 15 miles a couple of times a week for fun and a bloody lovely fellow. The other chap is apparently an ex footballer, Spanish and tanned. Unfortunately also old enough to be my Dad (God rest his soul too). And they really looked after us, chatted away, kept us going and generally promoted a warm glow in the heart, not just from the exertion of running. And I wasn't the fastest in the beginners group and I wasn't the slowest either! Hurrah. I was the second slowest though (the Nelly tune is just starting up) but being the second slowest means that I can only get faster (Chariots of Fire tune kicking in). We did sprints after our lap, which I quite enjoyed and then back to the triangle of grass to meet (I can't stop inappropriate images going through my head when I mention 'triangle of grass') with the rest of the runners. They gave announcements and talked about something called Park Run http://www.parkrun.org.uk which is a free race which runs every Sat across the country, Southampton's first one on 7th July (I'll be away studying on my last Hypnotherapy training weekend, a bit sad it's the last) you sign up on line, get a bar code, get scanned when you start and by the time you get home all your details have been downloaded so you can track your improving speed. All sounds pretty good to me.
Running in the Rain
I have a fellow runner who is a lot fitter than I am who also joined the running club with me and we went for a run last night. It was meant to be a test Park Run, but we got the times wrong, we were half an hour early, so rather than hang about in the wind and rain we decided to go for it. Running in the rain is strangely quite nice. I feel like I'm railing against the world, that I'm running no matter what you throw at me (imagine fist in the air and scary shouty face) and that's a very empowering feeling, one that I intend to keep hold of. Running to me is more than getting physically fit and strong, somehow it's getting me mentally fit and strong and that makes me smile on the inside. Fingers crossed the Bongadongs will reduce in size, no change yet but small changes in size on other parts of my body. I still haven't weighed or measured myself and I don't think I'll bother, heck I'll know if my jeans are too big to wear anymore, I'll be shouting about it to anyone who will listen. I still have a tight chest from the coldy (Man Flu) flemmy thing that I haven't quite managed to shift but it won't stop me going out this weekend for my running fix.
Wow, a whole week, believe me I have felt the guilt, and thought that I 'should' go for a run. That I 'must' go for a run, but I have a plethora of valid excuses in my proverbial handbag.
Man Flu was my first excuse at the beginning of the week. Yes, yes I know I'm not a bloke, but I'm also very unused to feeling even remotely poorly. It seems that smoking does, in fact, have some health benefits. I can hear you scoffing 'balderdash' and 'piffle' but let me tell you it's true (please don't be concerned that I've started again, I haven't, not even a puff, even being in another's smoke is not nice). Apparently the vast quantities of toxins and nasty stuff that live in cigarettes is quite good at killing off bugs, colds bugs, sore throat bugs and all things bug like that create Man Flu. So a couple of Sunday's ago my throat got sore, and continued on it's course to make me feel rather rubbish. I figured I'd get over it, a good nights kip, oh no, on it's course it continued, goddammit, all the way into Monday which saw Monday closing at a very un-respectable 9pm, in PJ's feeling incredibly sorry for myself. No running took place on Monday, nor on Tuesday. Wednesday saw the arrival of new carpet in my, now, therapy room with some rapid furniture moving and gluing taking place until late. Thursday was booked with a hypnotherapy client and Friday was of course footy night. Nice one England (high five). Saturday opened with a slightly jaded run down feeling, followed by the movies, and then a trip to Portsmouth to meet my long lost Welsh little brother for a bite to eat, arriving home on Sat at about 10pm. Knackered.
And then there were trainers
Determined not to go the weekend without running I set my alarm for Sunday morning at 8.30. Yeah . . . a little bit sad, on a Sunday? My alarm went off, I got up, and my trainers magically appeared on my feet, my iPod plugged in, hardcore dance tunes ready to promote the pounding of my feet, and I was out of the door.
Bloody hell it felt good to be out. The sun was shining, I had some good tunes going on and my feet were moving in front of one another faster than a walk (but not much faster). I realised that I hadn't beaten myself up with my internal dialogue, or given up because I actually couldn't manage a run for a week, that life is busy and it's OK when you can't always do what you want to do, shit happens, get over it. And so I decided to join a running club.
The Running Club
The tune I have running through my head as I write is the Chariots of Fire theme tune, you can hear it here in case you've been living on another planet and have no idea what it sounds like http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9myoXFk-O4U but the other tune running through my head (no pun intended) is Nelly the Elephant http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_a-m3pH9Dr8. The running club meet at 6.30 on the grass triangle, on the common, opposite the Belmoor Pub in Southampton. I was nervous. I was nervous that I was going to be the only person looking like a Ribena Berry person at the end of it, that I'd be trailing behind, lost in the common as it got darker, hearing strange noises, just like a horror movie, that other runners would be tutting as they waited for me. It wasn't like that. Not like that at all.
Running with Father Christmas
There were a lot of newbie runners, about 10 -12 of us I think. And we were all under the careful watch of two veteran runners. One of them, I'm sure was old enough to be my Grandad (God rest his soul), a shock of white hair (who looked a little like Father Christmas), who runs 10 - 15 miles a couple of times a week for fun and a bloody lovely fellow. The other chap is apparently an ex footballer, Spanish and tanned. Unfortunately also old enough to be my Dad (God rest his soul too). And they really looked after us, chatted away, kept us going and generally promoted a warm glow in the heart, not just from the exertion of running. And I wasn't the fastest in the beginners group and I wasn't the slowest either! Hurrah. I was the second slowest though (the Nelly tune is just starting up) but being the second slowest means that I can only get faster (Chariots of Fire tune kicking in). We did sprints after our lap, which I quite enjoyed and then back to the triangle of grass to meet (I can't stop inappropriate images going through my head when I mention 'triangle of grass') with the rest of the runners. They gave announcements and talked about something called Park Run http://www.parkrun.org.uk which is a free race which runs every Sat across the country, Southampton's first one on 7th July (I'll be away studying on my last Hypnotherapy training weekend, a bit sad it's the last) you sign up on line, get a bar code, get scanned when you start and by the time you get home all your details have been downloaded so you can track your improving speed. All sounds pretty good to me.
Running in the Rain
I have a fellow runner who is a lot fitter than I am who also joined the running club with me and we went for a run last night. It was meant to be a test Park Run, but we got the times wrong, we were half an hour early, so rather than hang about in the wind and rain we decided to go for it. Running in the rain is strangely quite nice. I feel like I'm railing against the world, that I'm running no matter what you throw at me (imagine fist in the air and scary shouty face) and that's a very empowering feeling, one that I intend to keep hold of. Running to me is more than getting physically fit and strong, somehow it's getting me mentally fit and strong and that makes me smile on the inside. Fingers crossed the Bongadongs will reduce in size, no change yet but small changes in size on other parts of my body. I still haven't weighed or measured myself and I don't think I'll bother, heck I'll know if my jeans are too big to wear anymore, I'll be shouting about it to anyone who will listen. I still have a tight chest from the coldy (Man Flu) flemmy thing that I haven't quite managed to shift but it won't stop me going out this weekend for my running fix.
Friday 8 June 2012
Red, white and blue
Thank Goodness the Jubilee is over. Now don't get me wrong, the bits I saw on TV gave me a nostalgic feeling and a warm glow of love for GB. And the Queen looked pretty smart too, yadda, yadda, yadda, but enough already! Bank Holiday weekend saw me struggling to get a run in with commitments to friends and family rife (I love you all really) all tempting 'trainer' and 'sports bra' avoidance. The first Sat of the Bank Holiday opened with a mild hangover following a rather fun evening out quaffing vast quantities of steak and 'Red Velvet Cake (if you are offered Red Velvet Cake avoid like the plague, especially if you are on a diet, as you will surely have to go back for 2nd's if not 3rd's) and imbibing a variety of alcoholic beverages. Hungover and full? Mmm, what were my chances of joining forces with my trainers? Eventually though, the running seed had been sown and the desire to get out was fuelled by my new list of running songs on a little, pretending to be, iPod Shuffle. Running tunes picked, trainers, sports bra, T-Shirt and shorts all ready to rock and roll.
Temptations of the devil
Before I've even left my front garden, the cat is there, looking cute, demanding attention, and he is pretty cute apart from the dead/live animals that he brings home, oh and he's definitely not so cute when he loudly chews a large sparrow in the house (no amount of chasing and grabbing was going prise that little beauty from his jaws). So the required amount of stretching hadn't been performed at this stage, but heck, off I trot anyway. Earplugs in, ready for the surge of energy brought on by the boom, boom, boom of some of my favourite 'shake your toosh on the dancefloor' tunes. Alas, no. Again temptations were to turn back and recline on my sofa. My wonderful piece of music kit only plays MP3's and I've since learned that a lot of music is an AAI file? My music wizardry had me bouncing round Shirley to just three songs, three songs which I may never want to listen to ever again, Let Your Love Flow - The Belemy Brothers, Insomnia - Faithless and Back to Black - Amy Winehouse. Three songs, grrrrr. But, still determined I move my slow plod on, following the route that I know, still thwarting the devil even with all his tricks to push me back to the sofa. A little further on my route, by now knowing all the words by heart to the aforementioned songs and the road is closed. Lots of blue and red, no it wasn't a terrible traffic accident, it was a bloody Jubilee street party. Bouncy castles, flags, children laughing having fun, frivolity being had by all - didn't they know they were blocking my run route! Still moving on, still determined not to be thwarted, a new route is found, I was a little bit lost I have to admit but eventually found myself back to somewhere I recognised and struggled the rest of the way home desperate to stamp on my little pretend iPod Shuffle thing.
Home at last
Thank the Lord. I made it. My run wasn't a great run, there may have been more walking than running, I've no idea how far I went but I am still proud on what I did. I'm still proud that against all odds and knowing my lazy nature I still went out. I still have a vision for a fit and healthy future and the future is bright.
Temptations of the devil
Before I've even left my front garden, the cat is there, looking cute, demanding attention, and he is pretty cute apart from the dead/live animals that he brings home, oh and he's definitely not so cute when he loudly chews a large sparrow in the house (no amount of chasing and grabbing was going prise that little beauty from his jaws). So the required amount of stretching hadn't been performed at this stage, but heck, off I trot anyway. Earplugs in, ready for the surge of energy brought on by the boom, boom, boom of some of my favourite 'shake your toosh on the dancefloor' tunes. Alas, no. Again temptations were to turn back and recline on my sofa. My wonderful piece of music kit only plays MP3's and I've since learned that a lot of music is an AAI file? My music wizardry had me bouncing round Shirley to just three songs, three songs which I may never want to listen to ever again, Let Your Love Flow - The Belemy Brothers, Insomnia - Faithless and Back to Black - Amy Winehouse. Three songs, grrrrr. But, still determined I move my slow plod on, following the route that I know, still thwarting the devil even with all his tricks to push me back to the sofa. A little further on my route, by now knowing all the words by heart to the aforementioned songs and the road is closed. Lots of blue and red, no it wasn't a terrible traffic accident, it was a bloody Jubilee street party. Bouncy castles, flags, children laughing having fun, frivolity being had by all - didn't they know they were blocking my run route! Still moving on, still determined not to be thwarted, a new route is found, I was a little bit lost I have to admit but eventually found myself back to somewhere I recognised and struggled the rest of the way home desperate to stamp on my little pretend iPod Shuffle thing.
Home at last
Thank the Lord. I made it. My run wasn't a great run, there may have been more walking than running, I've no idea how far I went but I am still proud on what I did. I'm still proud that against all odds and knowing my lazy nature I still went out. I still have a vision for a fit and healthy future and the future is bright.
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