That is where I am currently running marathons!
I keep having dreams about running, and not always good ones!
The latest involved running the marathon and feeling good, but then I kept getting lost. I would be running and someone would stop me and tell me I'd taken a wrong turn. So I'd turn around, but then not remember where I had came from and not be able to find my way back. Then I would see people running so I'd go and join them, but somehow end up doing the same thing again. At one point in my dream I was so lost I had several people all trying to help me find my way back to the race! And all I was thinking was how I had trained to run a marathon and all of this extra running might mean I wouldn't be able to finish!
Needless to say I woke up in a bit of a panic.
Is this sort of paranoia normal for a first time marathon runner, or am I just stressing a bit too much?! I have 5 months and 28 days to go, and can currently run a third of the distance. I'm on track with my training, with my last run being a few steps short of 8.5 miles and my aim to be at 10 miles by the end of the year. So why the panicky dreams?!
I know the answer. It's because it means so much to me. And that has got to be a good thing really.
Nobody said achieving your dreams would be easy. In fact my new mantra when I am finding a run tough going is to remind myself that if this really is my dream, I have to keep going even when it feels like I can't do it. Because your dreams don't just fall into your lap, you have to work hard to achieve them. And so far, it's working. I always tell myself that it's ok if I need to walk up the hills, or take a rest every now and again, but thus far I haven't needed either, and for that I'm pretty proud!
I haven't yet had a dream in which I actually finish the marathon, but that's OK. I'd rather live that then dream it!!
Tuesday 23 October 2012
Friday 19 October 2012
SU2C
 |
| Stand Up to Cancer |
Monday 15 October 2012
Running as Therapy
This isn't an easy post for me to write but I want to get it out there.
I already mentioned that my friend Kat getting cancer was my inspiration to take up running, to raise money for Cancer Research. When she lost her battle, I continued running, and continued trying to raise money for charity by organising Friendship Walks, and helping to get a Wear it Pink day reinstated at work.
But it hasn't just been Kat. In the 6 years that I have been running, I have watched cancer touch too many lives around me. My boss had breast cancer (and has thankfully been clear for a few years now), an old friend was diagnosed with bowel cancer whilst in her mid 30's (another going against the statistics, and after over a year of being fobbed off with the old 'IBS' diagnosis). A colleague in the US is still fighting the fight three years down the line. The very lady who was there to comfort me when I got the phone call about Kat, has herself recently started back at work after 18 months of treatment for breast cancer. Less than a year ago, another colleague was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. He had been planning to run the marathon himself this year but that wasn't to be. And then there is Daithi, who passed away in January, less than a year after a lung cancer diagnosis in his mid 30's. Pete's parents have both battled the disease this year too, so there has been no getting away from it!
If I'm honest, at times it has all felt a bit relentless! With all this going on, amongst other things, I have found myself getting quite anxious and down, and at one point I took anti-depressants in order to try and snap out of it. That didn't really work for me, so I started on a course of computer based cognitive behaviour therapy. Whilst there were aspects of it that I really got, I found some parts of it quite irritating and time consuming, and so I only kept it up for a few months. This was all going on pretty much during the time when I had stopped running. I remember talking to my doctor at the time and somehow we ended up on the topic of cancer, and I relayed my experiences of what had been happening around me. She seemed to completely understand, and that 10 minute discussion with her was a huge turning point for me. I'm not going to go into detail about it but she opened my eyes to a few things and helped me to understand why I was feeling the way I was.
For me, I've already mentioned that running is escapism. By that I mean that it has been my way of dealing with things I find stressful. When I run, I don't listen to music, and I don't think about anything at all other than what is going on around me. It is the only time I ever really switch off and have a break (I have one of those irritating brains that likes to mull things over and over and over, so this is especially valuable for me!). Alongside that complete time-out, I also get to enjoy being out and about, and I have seen some beautiful things when out running. From all sorts of wildlife (not just the cows, but deer, rabbits, squirrels, cats, sheep, birds, the list could go on and on), to some absolutely awesome early morning frosts, and sunsets that would take your breath away! I'm lucky that I can escape into farmland owned by Reading University, which means that I get a certain amount of solitude, and some spectacular views (and smells - well, it is a dairy farm after all!). I have taken a few photo's, which I will get up in a separate post at some point, but a lot of the time I just can't get my phone to capture what I am seeing. I like to think that it's natures way of ensuring that I keep getting out there and seeing those things with my own eyes!
But running has also been a way of doing something constructive. It has been for me, my way of showing that I care. I can't really do anything to help, but I can go running and I can raise a bit of money for Cancer Research. I keeps me fit and it keeps me sane - it's a bit of a win-win situation really!
Running is therapy!
I already mentioned that my friend Kat getting cancer was my inspiration to take up running, to raise money for Cancer Research. When she lost her battle, I continued running, and continued trying to raise money for charity by organising Friendship Walks, and helping to get a Wear it Pink day reinstated at work.
But it hasn't just been Kat. In the 6 years that I have been running, I have watched cancer touch too many lives around me. My boss had breast cancer (and has thankfully been clear for a few years now), an old friend was diagnosed with bowel cancer whilst in her mid 30's (another going against the statistics, and after over a year of being fobbed off with the old 'IBS' diagnosis). A colleague in the US is still fighting the fight three years down the line. The very lady who was there to comfort me when I got the phone call about Kat, has herself recently started back at work after 18 months of treatment for breast cancer. Less than a year ago, another colleague was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. He had been planning to run the marathon himself this year but that wasn't to be. And then there is Daithi, who passed away in January, less than a year after a lung cancer diagnosis in his mid 30's. Pete's parents have both battled the disease this year too, so there has been no getting away from it!
If I'm honest, at times it has all felt a bit relentless! With all this going on, amongst other things, I have found myself getting quite anxious and down, and at one point I took anti-depressants in order to try and snap out of it. That didn't really work for me, so I started on a course of computer based cognitive behaviour therapy. Whilst there were aspects of it that I really got, I found some parts of it quite irritating and time consuming, and so I only kept it up for a few months. This was all going on pretty much during the time when I had stopped running. I remember talking to my doctor at the time and somehow we ended up on the topic of cancer, and I relayed my experiences of what had been happening around me. She seemed to completely understand, and that 10 minute discussion with her was a huge turning point for me. I'm not going to go into detail about it but she opened my eyes to a few things and helped me to understand why I was feeling the way I was.
For me, I've already mentioned that running is escapism. By that I mean that it has been my way of dealing with things I find stressful. When I run, I don't listen to music, and I don't think about anything at all other than what is going on around me. It is the only time I ever really switch off and have a break (I have one of those irritating brains that likes to mull things over and over and over, so this is especially valuable for me!). Alongside that complete time-out, I also get to enjoy being out and about, and I have seen some beautiful things when out running. From all sorts of wildlife (not just the cows, but deer, rabbits, squirrels, cats, sheep, birds, the list could go on and on), to some absolutely awesome early morning frosts, and sunsets that would take your breath away! I'm lucky that I can escape into farmland owned by Reading University, which means that I get a certain amount of solitude, and some spectacular views (and smells - well, it is a dairy farm after all!). I have taken a few photo's, which I will get up in a separate post at some point, but a lot of the time I just can't get my phone to capture what I am seeing. I like to think that it's natures way of ensuring that I keep getting out there and seeing those things with my own eyes!
But running has also been a way of doing something constructive. It has been for me, my way of showing that I care. I can't really do anything to help, but I can go running and I can raise a bit of money for Cancer Research. I keeps me fit and it keeps me sane - it's a bit of a win-win situation really!
Running is therapy!
Wednesday 10 October 2012
The Injury Bench - Part Three (the one with the Marathon place)
After the best part of 18 months with no running and very little exercise at all really, I found a running buddy at work. We were both starting from a base of not very much, and as such our aims were similar - take it easy, build up slowly and see where we end up.
And so we started going running after work, a couple of times a week usually. We had a little challenge going between three of us that whoever got to a particular mileage first would have lunch bought for them by the person in third place. It seemed to be just the kick-start I needed, and I found myself going running even when my running buddy was injured, or couldn't make it. I was soon streaking ahead in the challenge, so we extended the mileage to give the others a chance to catch up. I had got the distance back up to 10k running laps around Green Park, and was just about to go off on two back-to-back ski holidays feeling very pleased with myself that I had built up a good lead in the challenge, and also would have a better time skiing due to the extra fitness I had gained.
The first ski trip was largely uneventful (well, plenty of skiing, drinking and partying, but uneventful from an injury point of view). Pete took a massive tumble that caused all skiers in the near vicinity to take a sharp intake of breath, but emerged unscathed. I fell over a few times, mainly when I was stationary (it's hard to stay still on blades on a ski slope!!) but on the last night we all went out partying in good spirits and completely injury free. Then I twisted awkwardly getting into bed and my right knee dislocated. Pete thought I had kicked the bed and stubbed my toe, but no, the sound he had heard was actually my knee dislocating and popping back into place. I'm glad I was a bit drunk to be honest, as it was agony and would only have been even more painful sober!!
Cue a trip to the emergency docs when I got back home, and a hefty dose of anti-inflammatory pain relief. I was due to head off skiing again in a matter of days, but the doctor assured me he thought it would be OK so long as I used a knee support.
The second ski trip started tentatively, but I soon realised my knee was going to be OK so long as I didn't push it too much. My ski buddy Sarah, incidentally the same person as running buddy Sarah (she does seem to get me into scrapes!) had lent me a very good knee support so I felt pretty good.
We had a great time until the very last day, where we started off on a horrible horrible icy bumpy run called "L'Office". We nicknamed it 'A bad day at L'Office' and resolved that the rest of the day could only get better than that. And it did, we had a great time! I video'd Sarah making her way expertly down a Black run, we stopped for a chocolat chaud and then we went up and down our favourite run (Souréou on Rocher De L'Aigle, or Eagle Rock) a few times. Then it was time for the long green run back down into resort to pack up the hire car and head to the airport. Because it was the last run, we said we would do our own thing and meet back at the chalet, rather than wait for each other. Despite this, we were mostly together on the way back down. The snow was turning really slushy and sticky in the early afternoon sunshine and I was finding the flatter bits really tough-going, and spent a lot of time skating to get up some speed. The next thing I knew, BANG. I was on the floor and my right wrist really rather hurt. I shouted to Sarah who I just saw skiing past, but to no avail. I looked at my wrist and thought, that looks like it might be dislocated, not good. I went to get up, but one of my blades had come off and I knew there was no way I was going to be able to get it back on, so I flagged down some passers-by who luckily included a piste rescue man. I won't bore you with all the details, I wrote about those in another blog, but suffice to say I extended the trip by two days which I spent in Briançon hospital having surgery to repair a nastily broken wrist.
Cue my first batch of Codeine, and the start of my third and rather protracted stint on the injury bench.
After the initial break I had several weeks in plaster before the pins were removed and then another couple of weeks after that. I then had physio and a wrist support for a month or so before being told I was OK to have a go at running, with the support on to avoid any jarring of the joint. So it was June before I was up to running again. I managed a handful of runs, but my knee was also sore, and to be honest I was feeling a bit down about the whole thing (sorry for myself!!). I still had a lot of pain in my wrist and so I stopped running. I continued with the physio, but an MRI revealed that the pain I was experiencing was due to an additional bone being broken that had thus far remained untreated, so I found out in August that I would need another operation to put in some permanent metalwork.
The op was scheduled for late September, but at the end of August I was dancing in a pub (after a few drinks, as you do) and once again my knee gave way. And I mean REALLY gave way. The next morning it was agony to move my leg, and it was swollen to at least twice the size of my other knee. I ended up in A&E who decided I hadn't broken anything (without an x-ray) and gave me pain relief and anti-inflammatories. Cue my second batch of Codeine.
By the time the wrist operation came around, my knee was looking a bit better and I was just about able to limp up the stairs to my room before the op. I then faced another six weeks in a full arm plaster, so I was one armed and limping. Cue my third batch of Codeine. Codeine really was my friend in 2011!
Whilst I was sat up at home recovering from the operation, I received some mail from the London Marathon. I had almost forgotten that I had entered, in fact I only did it to keep my '5 rejections and you get an automatic place' going, but there it was, clear as day, staring at me....
I was over the moon! And then I reviewed the situation I found myself in - one arm in plaster, and my knee still swollen and a struggle to walk up and down stairs. I had to laugh! And I also knew I would have to defer my place.
I saw a specialist for my knee in early 2012 (another round of X-rays and MRI's) who determined that the best approach for me was physio to strengthen the muscles on the inside of my leg, to better hold my very mobile (you could dislocate it with one finger) patella in place. I had noticed a lump on the outside of my knee, about the size of a large pea that moved around when you pushed it with your fingers but was obviously being held in place by something. The specialist felt my knee and said 'Oh yes so there is' before referring back to my scans. After about 30 seconds he just said 'I think you have chipped a bit of bone from your knee socket, but it doesn't feel like it is going anywhere so I think we will just leave it'. I was concerned that he hadn't picked this up from the scans but chose to say nothing. I asked him if he could remove it, he had another feel and said he would probably have to cut tendons so it would be a long recovery, and if it wasn't causing me pain it was best to leave it. And so I left him feeling a little uneasy, but trusting him that physio was all I needed. And that is how I find myself today - still a little uneasy but trying to keep the faith!
Monday 8 October 2012
2009 - A year of races
2009 was a year of a lot of races for me, however it wasn't always a great one from a running point of view.
In order to stop myself from doing my normal trick of getting my fitness up and then stopping, meaning I have to start again pretty much, I decided to enter a lot of races.
The first race was a re-run of the Reading Half Marathon in March, which I ran with Sui in a PB time of 6 seconds faster than the year before (I'm nothing if not consistent!). My time was 2 hours, 35 minutes and 13 seconds. I am officially a snail, but hey I like to think of it as getting value for money! I had hopes of being able to run a half marathon in under 2 hours 30 minutes but it wasn't to be at the Reading Half. In fact if I hadn't been with Sui I am not sure I would have finished at all, as the last few miles were incredibly hard!
The next race was the Shinfield 10k in early May. I ran this mostly with Sui and her friend Sue, however I just couldn't get a grip on my breathing pattern resulting in a nasty stitch and I couldn't keep up with them at all, so I told them to go on without me with a couple of miles to go. I was absolutely gutted. To be honest I have no idea what stopped me from sitting on a kerb and having a good old cry because that was how I felt, but somehow I finished a few minutes behind them. If I had stayed with them, it would have been a PB time, but it just wasn't to be that day.
I then moved on to the Woodley 10k in the middle of May. I arrived and was sat in the car park eating a banana with the rain absolutely lashing it down outside. A downpour of such proportions that I did seriously consider just starting the engine back up and leaving! However, about 15 minutes before the race was due to start, the sun miraculously appeared and I found myself at the start line. I even made the local paper! They had been snapping as people crossed the line, and there I was (yes I do still have the cutting)! It wasn't a very speedy race and I struggled to get into a rhythm, so I was a bit disappointed, although I did enjoy the unexpected run in the sun!
The two 10k races were swiftly followed by the Wokingham Half Marathon. This was originally scheduled for February however the weather conspired against it (snow) and so it was rescheduled to a freakishly hot weekend at the end of May. So hot that extra mobile water stations were laid on. I seemed to find myself on my own quite a lot whilst running this one, and had Defying Gravity from Wicked stuck in my head. I was so on my own at one point that I actually started humming it aloud! Then at about 9 miles in, I stumbled upon a running partner. Well, actually, I overtook her, then she overtook me, and so it continued for about half a mile until we just said why don't we run together! We were both flagging somewhat from the heat, and it was her first half marathon. We ended up doing a sort of run-walk a bit-run type rhythm for a couple of miles, saying we will walk until that lampost and then start running until one of us needs a rest again and so on. It worked really well, and we had a good old chat. I remember at one point a family had set up a hosepipe outside their house to douse any willing passing runners, and we went down to single file to make the most of it! It was an amazing feeling as it was ice cold! Towards the end I had a bit left in my legs so I went on ahead a bit, but I just couldn't keep it up and so I waited while she accelerated back up to me and we crossed the line together. Do you know, I never found out her name!! I was disappointed that I had walked during the race, and as a result my time was not great, but I put it down to the heat and vowed the next race would be a good one.
Then came the Thames 10k, a very scenic run through Beale Park in early July. My time for this race was not far off a personal worst time, however I really enjoyed the race and felt like I had some miles left in my legs, so I left happy in spite of the time.
The next race was another half marathon, at the end of July. It's called the Down Tow Up Flow half marathon, because it isn't a there-and-back race, it is one that follows the Thames and changes direction each year. It was another that I found myself on my own for some of the time, but I ran every single step of this race, which was a real first for me. My time was not great, and I remember feeling really disheartened when I saw how slow I had been. I vividly recall sitting on the towpath waiting for Pete to come and find me and once again only focussing on the negatives and not the fact that I had run it all! No walk breaks!
From that moment on, I didn't run another step for nearly 18 months. I can't explain why for sure, but I know that I had been struggling to come to terms with my lack of progression. It seemed like I was just getting slower and slower and still finding it just as hard, so I began to question if this was the sport for me. In fact I stopped doing any exercise at all really until mid-2010 when I had a few personal training sessions at the work gym in preparation for being a bridesmaid for my best friend later in the year. Once again I didn't feel like there was much progression, and I stopped exercising again until I met someone in late 2010 who helped me sort out my head and get myself back into it. I started climbing, and remembered how much I loved the feeling, and decided I would start afresh with the running in 2011.
In order to stop myself from doing my normal trick of getting my fitness up and then stopping, meaning I have to start again pretty much, I decided to enter a lot of races.
The first race was a re-run of the Reading Half Marathon in March, which I ran with Sui in a PB time of 6 seconds faster than the year before (I'm nothing if not consistent!). My time was 2 hours, 35 minutes and 13 seconds. I am officially a snail, but hey I like to think of it as getting value for money! I had hopes of being able to run a half marathon in under 2 hours 30 minutes but it wasn't to be at the Reading Half. In fact if I hadn't been with Sui I am not sure I would have finished at all, as the last few miles were incredibly hard!
The next race was the Shinfield 10k in early May. I ran this mostly with Sui and her friend Sue, however I just couldn't get a grip on my breathing pattern resulting in a nasty stitch and I couldn't keep up with them at all, so I told them to go on without me with a couple of miles to go. I was absolutely gutted. To be honest I have no idea what stopped me from sitting on a kerb and having a good old cry because that was how I felt, but somehow I finished a few minutes behind them. If I had stayed with them, it would have been a PB time, but it just wasn't to be that day.
I then moved on to the Woodley 10k in the middle of May. I arrived and was sat in the car park eating a banana with the rain absolutely lashing it down outside. A downpour of such proportions that I did seriously consider just starting the engine back up and leaving! However, about 15 minutes before the race was due to start, the sun miraculously appeared and I found myself at the start line. I even made the local paper! They had been snapping as people crossed the line, and there I was (yes I do still have the cutting)! It wasn't a very speedy race and I struggled to get into a rhythm, so I was a bit disappointed, although I did enjoy the unexpected run in the sun!
The two 10k races were swiftly followed by the Wokingham Half Marathon. This was originally scheduled for February however the weather conspired against it (snow) and so it was rescheduled to a freakishly hot weekend at the end of May. So hot that extra mobile water stations were laid on. I seemed to find myself on my own quite a lot whilst running this one, and had Defying Gravity from Wicked stuck in my head. I was so on my own at one point that I actually started humming it aloud! Then at about 9 miles in, I stumbled upon a running partner. Well, actually, I overtook her, then she overtook me, and so it continued for about half a mile until we just said why don't we run together! We were both flagging somewhat from the heat, and it was her first half marathon. We ended up doing a sort of run-walk a bit-run type rhythm for a couple of miles, saying we will walk until that lampost and then start running until one of us needs a rest again and so on. It worked really well, and we had a good old chat. I remember at one point a family had set up a hosepipe outside their house to douse any willing passing runners, and we went down to single file to make the most of it! It was an amazing feeling as it was ice cold! Towards the end I had a bit left in my legs so I went on ahead a bit, but I just couldn't keep it up and so I waited while she accelerated back up to me and we crossed the line together. Do you know, I never found out her name!! I was disappointed that I had walked during the race, and as a result my time was not great, but I put it down to the heat and vowed the next race would be a good one.
Then came the Thames 10k, a very scenic run through Beale Park in early July. My time for this race was not far off a personal worst time, however I really enjoyed the race and felt like I had some miles left in my legs, so I left happy in spite of the time.
The next race was another half marathon, at the end of July. It's called the Down Tow Up Flow half marathon, because it isn't a there-and-back race, it is one that follows the Thames and changes direction each year. It was another that I found myself on my own for some of the time, but I ran every single step of this race, which was a real first for me. My time was not great, and I remember feeling really disheartened when I saw how slow I had been. I vividly recall sitting on the towpath waiting for Pete to come and find me and once again only focussing on the negatives and not the fact that I had run it all! No walk breaks!
From that moment on, I didn't run another step for nearly 18 months. I can't explain why for sure, but I know that I had been struggling to come to terms with my lack of progression. It seemed like I was just getting slower and slower and still finding it just as hard, so I began to question if this was the sport for me. In fact I stopped doing any exercise at all really until mid-2010 when I had a few personal training sessions at the work gym in preparation for being a bridesmaid for my best friend later in the year. Once again I didn't feel like there was much progression, and I stopped exercising again until I met someone in late 2010 who helped me sort out my head and get myself back into it. I started climbing, and remembered how much I loved the feeling, and decided I would start afresh with the running in 2011.
The Injury Bench - Part Two
After successfully completing my first half marathon at Henley, I did what I always do and stopped running for a bit. I don't know why I do it, every time without fail!! It's amazing how quickly you lose fitness considering how long it takes to build it up!
Anyway, I had entered the Reading Half Marathon in March 2008, so in the new year I dusted the trainers back off and started plodding again. I ran the Reading Half with Sarah, and at times Sui too (she hadn't officially entered but she popped up here and there to run with us!) in a PB time somehow, despite not nearly enough training. After that I entered a couple of local 10k runs (Shinfield and Woodley) to give me a target so that I wouldn't just grind to a total halt again. After running both of those races, I developed pain in my right hip, that no amount of different stretching would eliminate. I spent a lot of time limping and wincing, and so decided to use the private healthcare that is provided through work to get it sorted.
And so I found myself seeing a physio in Beech Hill. Little did I realise that I would be asked to strip to my underwear and walk around so that the physio could see how all my joints looked, but after the tests I had gone through with the cardiac and kidney specialists I don't know why I was surprised. I think I forgot to mention before that an ultrasound of the heart involves obviously being topless and smothered in gel, and kidney specialists also seem to require you in your underwear for some reason that I never quite fathomed! Anyway, luckily I had been sort of prepared for being seen in my underwear with the physio (it's gonna happen for a groin strain isn't it), but I wasn't quite prepared for what happened next - Acupunture.
At this point it is worth mentioning that I am a bit of a needle-phobe. I don't go faint or anything like that, I just have a bit of a panic in the run-up to actually being jabbed. I think it stemmed from once having a blood test the day before an operation as a teenager when I came over a bit funny. The nurse asked if I was OK and did I want some water, to which I replied yes please, so she walked away AND LEFT THE NEEDLE IN MY ARM to get me a glass of water. I am not joking. My Mum was there, she can vouch that this actually happened! Since then I've not been so keen on needles!
So when I found myself lying there with the realisation that the physio was about to stick pins in me, I got that familiar feeling of panic. Honestly, if I had known she was going to do it, I don't think I would have gone. However, I am a total convert. It didn't hurt (was a bit itchy maybe) and it worked. I mean, I also had an orthotic to put in my shoe as it turns out my right leg is shorter than my left (it's also my right side that doesn't have a kidney, which my doctor thinks is 'interesting'), but I had immediate results after the acupuncture and found it strangely relaxing.
And so after another couple of months on the injury bench, I was back running again. I knew I wouldn't get my fitness levels back up enough to be able to run any longer races in the Autumn, so I focussed my efforts on races in 2009.
Anyway, I had entered the Reading Half Marathon in March 2008, so in the new year I dusted the trainers back off and started plodding again. I ran the Reading Half with Sarah, and at times Sui too (she hadn't officially entered but she popped up here and there to run with us!) in a PB time somehow, despite not nearly enough training. After that I entered a couple of local 10k runs (Shinfield and Woodley) to give me a target so that I wouldn't just grind to a total halt again. After running both of those races, I developed pain in my right hip, that no amount of different stretching would eliminate. I spent a lot of time limping and wincing, and so decided to use the private healthcare that is provided through work to get it sorted.
And so I found myself seeing a physio in Beech Hill. Little did I realise that I would be asked to strip to my underwear and walk around so that the physio could see how all my joints looked, but after the tests I had gone through with the cardiac and kidney specialists I don't know why I was surprised. I think I forgot to mention before that an ultrasound of the heart involves obviously being topless and smothered in gel, and kidney specialists also seem to require you in your underwear for some reason that I never quite fathomed! Anyway, luckily I had been sort of prepared for being seen in my underwear with the physio (it's gonna happen for a groin strain isn't it), but I wasn't quite prepared for what happened next - Acupunture.
At this point it is worth mentioning that I am a bit of a needle-phobe. I don't go faint or anything like that, I just have a bit of a panic in the run-up to actually being jabbed. I think it stemmed from once having a blood test the day before an operation as a teenager when I came over a bit funny. The nurse asked if I was OK and did I want some water, to which I replied yes please, so she walked away AND LEFT THE NEEDLE IN MY ARM to get me a glass of water. I am not joking. My Mum was there, she can vouch that this actually happened! Since then I've not been so keen on needles!
So when I found myself lying there with the realisation that the physio was about to stick pins in me, I got that familiar feeling of panic. Honestly, if I had known she was going to do it, I don't think I would have gone. However, I am a total convert. It didn't hurt (was a bit itchy maybe) and it worked. I mean, I also had an orthotic to put in my shoe as it turns out my right leg is shorter than my left (it's also my right side that doesn't have a kidney, which my doctor thinks is 'interesting'), but I had immediate results after the acupuncture and found it strangely relaxing.
And so after another couple of months on the injury bench, I was back running again. I knew I wouldn't get my fitness levels back up enough to be able to run any longer races in the Autumn, so I focussed my efforts on races in 2009.
Friday 5 October 2012
Thursday 4 October 2012
You can stand under my umbrella
Getting caught out in the rain isn't always a bad thing when you're out running. In fact, it can be invigorating, refreshing and life-affirming to be caught in a shower miles from home when you're flagging. I know you might think I'm strange for saying that, and a few years ago I might have agreed with you, but I have been running in the rain a fair few times now and I can honestly say it is no bad thing! It gives you something to think about besides whichever part of your body (or mind) has decided it has had enough!!
There are exceptions to this however.
When the path or road you're running on turns into a stream and visibility gets so bad you can't really see where you're going, that's not quite so much fun. I am particularly recalling a run with my friend Sarah up a road called Church Lane in Arborfield at this point, about halfway into an 8 mile run. Although even though it was pretty miserable and felt a bit like we were wading upstream, we were still giggling about it!
But for me there is one circumstance where being caught out in the rain is really really bad. I mean the stuff of nightmares!
Thunderstorms.
Anyone who knows me will know how irrationally frightened I am of thunder and lightening. When I was a kid I would avoid using the phone in a storm, and hated walking under the light fittings (yes, really...). I'm nowhere near as bad now, however it's still a phobia. I sit in the corner of the office, on the top floor, surrounded by floor to ceiling windows, and in a particularly bad storm I have been known to retreat to the loos because there are no windows in there!!
It has happened to me twice now, being caught in a storm when out running, and it's had such a lasting effect that I am often paranoid about the weather and will completely avoid running on days where there is even the slightest chance of a storm.
The first time I was with Sarah and Sui running around The Lookout in Bracknell. The Lookout is a forest with a load of undulating footpaths and cycleways through it, and is a really nice place for a run. But not on this occasion! Well, ok, so the first few miles of the run were great, and we were having a good old chat and catch-up. But shortly before we finished, the atmosphere completely changed. It's difficult to describe but something in the air definitely changes just before a storm is about to hit. It gets muggy and you can almost feel the electricity in the air. We were shielded from the worst of the rain by the trees, and then the rumbles of thunder started. I stopped looking at my heart rate monitor as it was through the roof!! I could feel myself getting more and more panicky with every flash and bang, but we were nearly back at the cars, and Sarah and Sui were doing a good job of keeping me relatively calm. We got back to the cars and there was a lull in the weather, so we were having a bit of a stretch and not rushing our goodbyes, when all of a sudden there was a simultaneous flash and the loudest clap of thunder I have ever heard. I instinctively leapt for the car, and to my surprise Sarah and Sui (neither of whom are afraid of storms) had done the same. I was literally shaking like a leaf, and for once it didn't feel like an over-reaction!
The second time, I was out running my favourite 5 mile cow loop, on my own. I was about 2 miles from home and had just had a little stop to chat about the weather to a guy walking his dog, who had said something along the lines of 'You'll have to run pretty fast to avoid the rain, it's about to start chucking it down!'. We laughed and carried on in opposite directions - him down a pathway sheltered by trees, and me out onto the very exposed straight road that leads past the dairy farm milking sheds. And then it started! It wasn't right overhead but I could see the forks of lightening and I was terrified. I didn't want to run down the long straight bit of road because it felt really exposed, but I knew I couldn't just stay where I was, getting drenched. So I sprinted! I'm not kidding, I literally ran as fast as I possibly could until I reached the next bit of cover. And that is how I continued until I got home - sprinting from one set of trees to the next, and pausing to catch my breath before the next sprint. At one point I saw a fork of lightening which looked like it had struck some trees just a field away from me, and at that point I did completely lose it. By the time I got home, I was soaked to the skin, not only from rain and sweat, but from tears, because I pretty much sobbed and hyperventilated my way there!!! I remember Pete opening the door to me and giving me a big hug, despite the fact that I was dripping wet - he had been waiting for me to get home, knowing how much I hate storms. He said if he had known where I was, he would have got in the car to come and get me!
So today, I had planned on running the 4.5 mile loop from home, which involves running along the exposed bit of road next to the milking sheds, but because the sky looked really ominous, I didn't have the guts and cut back to the shorter loop. I felt really good though, it was one of those 'winged feet' runs, and so when my phone told me I had got to three miles, I upped my pace, and also added a bit on to the run to take it up to 4 miles. When I got home I was well and truly out of breath, but feeling pretty amazing, and my average pace for the whole run was 11 mins and 1 second per mile. Which for me, is pretty damn good! And even better, not only was there no storm, but I didn't even get wet :-)
There are exceptions to this however.
When the path or road you're running on turns into a stream and visibility gets so bad you can't really see where you're going, that's not quite so much fun. I am particularly recalling a run with my friend Sarah up a road called Church Lane in Arborfield at this point, about halfway into an 8 mile run. Although even though it was pretty miserable and felt a bit like we were wading upstream, we were still giggling about it!
But for me there is one circumstance where being caught out in the rain is really really bad. I mean the stuff of nightmares!
Thunderstorms.
Anyone who knows me will know how irrationally frightened I am of thunder and lightening. When I was a kid I would avoid using the phone in a storm, and hated walking under the light fittings (yes, really...). I'm nowhere near as bad now, however it's still a phobia. I sit in the corner of the office, on the top floor, surrounded by floor to ceiling windows, and in a particularly bad storm I have been known to retreat to the loos because there are no windows in there!!
It has happened to me twice now, being caught in a storm when out running, and it's had such a lasting effect that I am often paranoid about the weather and will completely avoid running on days where there is even the slightest chance of a storm.
The first time I was with Sarah and Sui running around The Lookout in Bracknell. The Lookout is a forest with a load of undulating footpaths and cycleways through it, and is a really nice place for a run. But not on this occasion! Well, ok, so the first few miles of the run were great, and we were having a good old chat and catch-up. But shortly before we finished, the atmosphere completely changed. It's difficult to describe but something in the air definitely changes just before a storm is about to hit. It gets muggy and you can almost feel the electricity in the air. We were shielded from the worst of the rain by the trees, and then the rumbles of thunder started. I stopped looking at my heart rate monitor as it was through the roof!! I could feel myself getting more and more panicky with every flash and bang, but we were nearly back at the cars, and Sarah and Sui were doing a good job of keeping me relatively calm. We got back to the cars and there was a lull in the weather, so we were having a bit of a stretch and not rushing our goodbyes, when all of a sudden there was a simultaneous flash and the loudest clap of thunder I have ever heard. I instinctively leapt for the car, and to my surprise Sarah and Sui (neither of whom are afraid of storms) had done the same. I was literally shaking like a leaf, and for once it didn't feel like an over-reaction!
The second time, I was out running my favourite 5 mile cow loop, on my own. I was about 2 miles from home and had just had a little stop to chat about the weather to a guy walking his dog, who had said something along the lines of 'You'll have to run pretty fast to avoid the rain, it's about to start chucking it down!'. We laughed and carried on in opposite directions - him down a pathway sheltered by trees, and me out onto the very exposed straight road that leads past the dairy farm milking sheds. And then it started! It wasn't right overhead but I could see the forks of lightening and I was terrified. I didn't want to run down the long straight bit of road because it felt really exposed, but I knew I couldn't just stay where I was, getting drenched. So I sprinted! I'm not kidding, I literally ran as fast as I possibly could until I reached the next bit of cover. And that is how I continued until I got home - sprinting from one set of trees to the next, and pausing to catch my breath before the next sprint. At one point I saw a fork of lightening which looked like it had struck some trees just a field away from me, and at that point I did completely lose it. By the time I got home, I was soaked to the skin, not only from rain and sweat, but from tears, because I pretty much sobbed and hyperventilated my way there!!! I remember Pete opening the door to me and giving me a big hug, despite the fact that I was dripping wet - he had been waiting for me to get home, knowing how much I hate storms. He said if he had known where I was, he would have got in the car to come and get me!
So today, I had planned on running the 4.5 mile loop from home, which involves running along the exposed bit of road next to the milking sheds, but because the sky looked really ominous, I didn't have the guts and cut back to the shorter loop. I felt really good though, it was one of those 'winged feet' runs, and so when my phone told me I had got to three miles, I upped my pace, and also added a bit on to the run to take it up to 4 miles. When I got home I was well and truly out of breath, but feeling pretty amazing, and my average pace for the whole run was 11 mins and 1 second per mile. Which for me, is pretty damn good! And even better, not only was there no storm, but I didn't even get wet :-)
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