What a difference a week makes

The week after my last post, I headed out for a Sunday LSR in hideous conditions.  It was freezing cold and raining the whole time, with a wind that meant at times it felt like stones were being thrown into my face.  Honestly, being out in the rain in those temperatures for over two hours was incredibly hard (it had snowed the day before so you get the idea) and I found the run probably tougher mentally than I did physically.  At one point, in the University grounds, I stopped to let a car go past and the lady pulled over to ask me why on Earth I was out running in that weather!  It made me laugh but she really did have a point!  Anyway, I did 10.5 miles, and I only really stopped because I couldn't bear the cold any longer, I felt like I had more left in my legs.

A week on from that, and the sun came out.  I know, really!  Not when I first started running admittedly, it was freezing cold and the type of fog that means you can only see the path you are on and not a lot else when I first set out.  But by the time I was about 6-7 miles in, it was a glorious spring-like day.  I felt great, and added loops here there and everywhere, finishing with a total of 12.25 miles under my belt.  I was dancing around the kitchen afterwards, I felt on top of the world!  I had taken dextrose tablets with me to sort out refuelling on the go, and I did notice the difference they made.
I took this photo out on the run, with the comment that I wished it was a mile marker rather than mph.....

And so last Sunday, I was feeling really good about my run.  I was tired, from being out at one of my best friends 30th parties the night before, however having not touched a drop of alcohol I expected that having a bit longer in bed and going out a little bit later would do the trick.
How wrong could I have been.  I can't actually conjure up the words to explain how tough I found that run.  Every step of it, my body didn't want to do it.  I feel quite emotional about it even looking back now, almost a week on!  I had planned on doing 14 miles, but things were against me from the outset.  It was absolutely freezing, and on several occasions it snowed quite heavily.  I hadn't been able to eat a banana before my run as we had run out, there was my first mistake. I had forgotten my gloves, there was my second mistake.  I felt pretty wiped out but decided to add on loops early on anyway, there was my third mistake.  I got home in just over 13 miles.  I clocked it as 13.2 as my phone crashed as I unlocked it running down the road so I could stop the app (see what I mean about things being against me?!).  I had to walk a fair bit in the last couple of miles, more than I would have liked.  I was so exhausted when I got in the house that I couldn't summon the energy to speak, or even to swallow the glass of water I was trying to get down my neck.  It was as much as I could do to remain upright, and I found myself sobbing and blabbering about how I would never be able to do a marathon if I couldn't even run half of one.  Pete had been a star once again and already had a hot bath running before I got through the door, and I got straight into it whereupon I managed to calm myself down - in fact I almost fell asleep.

An hour or so later, clean, warm, fed and watered I was able to look back on things rationally.  Running that far on a pretty much empty stomach is a bad idea.  When I thought about it, I had only had one full proper meal the day before, and it was a late lunch.  I had a busy few days, and was tired before I started.  I hadn't taken any water with me - I don't tend to for runs up to around 10 miles, but this was an almost 3 hour run, so why I thought I didn't need water and could function just on sugar tablets I don't know.  And battling against the weather adds an element of difficulty that should not be underestimated!

In one week, mainly due to lack of preparation and lack of rest, I had managed to up my distance by just one mile, but up the difficulty level ten-fold.  The main thing is, I have well and truly learnt a lesson from that run.  Fail to prepare, prepare to fail.  And I will never, ever again underestimate how hard this is going to be.

Inspiration

I've been slacking.

Not only with writing my blog (which I have been meaning to do for over a week now) but also with my running.

I've felt like I've been in a bit of a slump.  All was going well, I had managed a nice 8 mile run and was feeling pretty good about things.  Sponsorship had started to come in and so I was feeling motivated to get out there more regularly.

Then on Tuesday 29th January I popped out to get my hair cut, and on the way home, I had a teeny car crash.  I say I had, I was a completely unwitting participant as I was stationary and someone crashed into the back of my car.
We were both in a bit of shock (especially as she had her baby girl in the car with her) but it seemed like there was no damage to either car.  I am getting mine checked out on Monday just in case, as it is a lease car and I don't want to be hit with charges for damage when I hand it back, however there is nothing visible.
When I got home, my neck had started to feel a little stiff, so I made sure to keep moving around and massage it a bit in the hopes that I wouldn't end up with whiplash (again).  However, little did I know that it wasn't my neck I needed to worry about, as much as it was my back.  I struggled to sleep that night because I just couldn't get comfortable laying down.  Pain all the way down my spine and across my shoulders.  This lasted for several days, alleviated slightly by my best friend codeine that I picked up after a trip to the doctors.  I didn't make it back into the office that week because I just couldn't sleep, and was in pain, so was therefore not much in the way of company!!  I also couldn't bring myself to go running.

By Sunday I knew I had to get out and run regardless, because I was getting myself very stressed about not running all week, so off I went.  I had said I would do 6-8 miles, depending on how my body felt once I had started.  I knew pretty much straight away that it would be a hard run.  It took me more than two miles to settle down into a rhythm, and by the time I was four miles in I wanted to stop.  But I dug in and kept going.  By six miles, I had just run to the top of a hill and had to take a short walk break because I was completely spent.  I felt a bit sick and my legs had really started to tie up, and I had searing pain across my shoulders.  The walk break made me feel a bit better, and so I started up again, and being the stubborn mule that I am, I somehow managed to run 9.77 miles.  I literally could not have run that extra 0.23 miles if you had been waving cake in front of me like string for a cat, I was utterly spent.  But I felt great too, which is a feeling that you only get from a workout where you feel like you gave it everything!!!

I found walking a little sore for the rest of the day, and had to take pain relief for my back and shoulders, but I was also very proud of myself!

So why have I not been running all week?  Why?  I just don't know what is going on with my head.  I had my first (of ten) personal training session on Wednesday, and so decided I would run once alongside that training session this week, before building up to two runs and PT during the week, plus a long run at the weekend.  But this week so far, I have only done the PT, no running at all.
I am a slacker!  I need a kick up the backside!

Well, today I got one.  Not literally, in so much as the kick up the backside for me came in the shape of a lovely afternoon spent with my friend Zeph.  She has completed 4 out of 6 sessions of chemo for breast cancer, and will then be having an operation, followed by daily radiotherapy.  Zeph was just emerging from a pretty tough time before all this came along, you would wonder how much crap one family could take, yet seeing her today, all I could see was strength, spirit, positivity and absolute courage.
We've not managed to meet up since the chemo started, we were due to last month but the snow put paid to that, and I'm so glad I got to see her today.  I needed that Zeph hug (you have to experience it to know what I'm talking about!) and to see her smiling face more than I knew!!!  Because that is what she did pretty much all afternoon - smile - and it's infectious!  Whilst telling me how sick the first three treatments made her, and talking about some of the side effects (not mentioning the hair loss, Zeph is bald, bold and beautiful - no headscarves or wigs here), she put more emphasis on how she knows this is treatable, how much the cancer has shrunk, and how much she is looking forward to getting her life back when this is all done.  How she might do weight watchers or slimmers world but can't decide which (the result of having to take steroids), how she is looking forward to getting back to work, even if she might not remember how to do anything, how she is hoping to get her bike out or maybe take up running again, or maybe the gym.  Planning for the future with a smile on her face, not dwelling on the situation she has found herself in at all.  We bumped into her husband and two sons whilst we were having a coffee, and as they left she said to me that when she felt at her worst, she only had to think about her boys to be reminded as to why she was doing this.

And quite simply, she has reminded me why I am doing this.
I don't know if you'll ever read this Zeph, but I love you, you are beautiful, and you inspire me.