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, 17 November 2012
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
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