I'm learning how well (or not) my body can adapt to twelfty million different situations all in one go. 7hr car journey (tick), long haul flight of 11hrs (tick), one tantruming 3yr old (tick), one hungry, hungry 5mth old (tick), lots of travel on holiday arrival (tick), jetlagged children (tick), sleep deprivation (tick), a car full of travel sick puke (tick), thankfully, copious amounts of daytime fun (tick) oh and a couple of runs (tick). Comrades you say?! Surely that's the easy bit? Training properly...what's that??? The kids are asleep so let me expand...
Before we had kids time was free and easy. Now we've got kids time is precious and sparse. We're on holiday, you would think fitting one run in a day should be easy peasy??? So we arrived in LA on Tuesday at 6.30pm (local time) 2.30am (UK time). Staying with our good mate Steve who now lives in LA we thought the kids would adapt pretty quickly, especially after we kept them awake for longer than normal in the hope that they'd be tired enough to sleep. Wrong, wrong and wrong again. For four nights in a row Aston was awake from 2.30am and Rosie was awake from between 3-4am. Basically this means that neither of us ran while we were in LA because neither of us could actually see out of our broken eyes never mind run. Now those of you who know me will know that I'm an all or nothing kind of girl. Open a packet of biscuits and I'll eat them all or I'll have none at all. Train for something and I'll do it properly or not at all. And this is where the whole learning to adapt has had to come in, something I've never been any good at. When I'm motivated (and I am) I barely let anything stop me from running/training. This means that I've had to really fight to keep myself motivated but able to adapt the training to A) suit my sleep deprivation but keep me moving and B) not allow running to take president over our holiday (this is our family holiday after all). Once we left LA and started to travel towards San Fransisco I was starting to get antsy. I hadn't run for four days and was starting to make bad food choices which (for me) go hand in hand with being exhausted and demotivated. The pendulum that was swinging in Comrades' favour having run 14miles easily for the first time in over a year just before we left was starting to wane. Thankfully, hitting San Fransisco was the best thing that could have happened. We headed here because there's lots for the kids to do and see but also they had their inaugural parkrun on the Saturday that we arrived. Located on Crissy Fields which basically bask beside the Golden Gate Bridge how could that not kick start my motivation?! I've never ever been anywhere where exercise is so popular. No wonder folk don't say good morning to each other over here, they'd never shut up if they did, you pass that many runners/roller bladers/cyclists it would be impossible to say hello to them all. It really is a sight to behold. A wonderful, casual happy place full of normal looking people exercising. Wonderful. So with a parkrun under my belt I was re-energised and looking forward to getting out again. Ideally I would be running for much longer than I am while I'm out here but we're on holiday and the kids (more-or-less) have to come first so early morning on Sunday I got out but only for 30mins. This morning (and here comes the fear I mentioned in the title) we were up too early for me to run outside (that's kids for you) so I went into the hotel gym to do an hour on the dreadmill. Oh. My. Word. The hour wasn't hard, the pace wasn't hard, the monotony wasn't hard but the heat in there nearly killed me. How on earth am I going to manage in Comrades if after 7 miles on a treadmill in a hotel gym I feel hideous?! Eeeeeeeeeek!!!
So there you have it. I'm learning how to adapt to my situation like a big girl and not stress over distances or days when I just can't get out to run. I am however going to have to work out a plan to deal with the heat better. Answers on a postcard please.
H
Monday, 26 January 2015
Sunday, 18 January 2015
Always against the clock...
... and here I am again (more battery life in my computer this week) but unfortunately no more battery life in me and no time to spare. It's 22:13, Aston's asleep and although my eyes are open I'm not sure technically I can be classed as being awake lol!
I've had a great second week of easing myself (ungracefully) into consistent running and have loved every run that I've done. With the help of amazing friends who get their fix of Aston/Rosie cuddles/tantrums while I plod my way around the streets of Harrogate I've managed to run six times, two of these runs being a 10 miler and today a 14miler. I know I'm highly motivated at the moment because the weather has been nothing short of foul and it hasn't stopped me. When I'm woken up at 4:30am by the hungriest baby in the world I see a window of running opportunity that doesn't impact so much on Tom's day and I throw my running kit on with gay abandon imagining I'm as light footed as a gazelle. In reality I thunder my way round the windy, rainy, dark, streets while everyone else sleeps but I enjoy my freedom and the feeling that I'm doing something to get myself fit again. As much as I hate being at the opposite end of my usual fitness scale I do enjoy the process of feeling like every run is making a difference and slowly but surely my legs will stop complaining and my fitness will return. Who knows, maybe Comrades is even gong to be possible to do lol!
While running with my really good mate Hannah (who is also a mother and uses running to keep her self sane) she asked about my actual thoughts about Comrades and how I was mentally approaching the concept of 56 miles. It's a good question. The simplest answer... oblivion. Seriously. I've never run 56 miles before so how on earth can I possibly imagine how hard it's going to be?! Am I fazed by it? Not really (I am totally oblivious though). Am I afraid of how far it is? Not really, I'm training, it's going to be hard, but I'm still oblivious. This oblivion is (sometimes) a wondrous thing. I would never have done Ironman if it wasn't for my oblivion and I certainly wouldn't have considered having kids because people tell you things are hard, hurt or are ridiculously difficult but until you experience these things yourself there is a certain degree of this oblivion. The thing that worries me the most about Comrades isn't the distance it's the heat. I fall apart in the heat. The heat has been my downfall in all but one Ironman. The only Ironman that I actually had a great day in (in Germany), the weather was variable. Cool and a bit drizzly for the swim, warm on the bike and overcast for the run. This turned out to be the perfect conditions for me to be in. If it's really, really hot in Comrades I've got to keep an eye on my fluid intake and not push myself too hard or I'll spend the majority of the run puking by the kerbside and trying to find a loo. I'm not oblivious to how hideous this experience is and this is what worries me the most about Comrades. I can't do anything about that though so all I can do is train the best I can to make sure I'm fit and in good nick on the day and then monitor the heat and how to deal with it.
I'd love to write a little more but my eyelids have become heavier than my backside and with Aston currently having what I can only describe as an insatiable appetite (which translates into my world as immense sleep deprivation) I really need to get some zzzzzzz's. I was up at 1am, 4am and 6am feeding Aston and I've run 14 miles. I'm good for nothing except sleep.
Thanks for your comments and kind words. It's great to be blogging again & even better to be running again.
Night all :)
H
I've had a great second week of easing myself (ungracefully) into consistent running and have loved every run that I've done. With the help of amazing friends who get their fix of Aston/Rosie cuddles/tantrums while I plod my way around the streets of Harrogate I've managed to run six times, two of these runs being a 10 miler and today a 14miler. I know I'm highly motivated at the moment because the weather has been nothing short of foul and it hasn't stopped me. When I'm woken up at 4:30am by the hungriest baby in the world I see a window of running opportunity that doesn't impact so much on Tom's day and I throw my running kit on with gay abandon imagining I'm as light footed as a gazelle. In reality I thunder my way round the windy, rainy, dark, streets while everyone else sleeps but I enjoy my freedom and the feeling that I'm doing something to get myself fit again. As much as I hate being at the opposite end of my usual fitness scale I do enjoy the process of feeling like every run is making a difference and slowly but surely my legs will stop complaining and my fitness will return. Who knows, maybe Comrades is even gong to be possible to do lol!
While running with my really good mate Hannah (who is also a mother and uses running to keep her self sane) she asked about my actual thoughts about Comrades and how I was mentally approaching the concept of 56 miles. It's a good question. The simplest answer... oblivion. Seriously. I've never run 56 miles before so how on earth can I possibly imagine how hard it's going to be?! Am I fazed by it? Not really (I am totally oblivious though). Am I afraid of how far it is? Not really, I'm training, it's going to be hard, but I'm still oblivious. This oblivion is (sometimes) a wondrous thing. I would never have done Ironman if it wasn't for my oblivion and I certainly wouldn't have considered having kids because people tell you things are hard, hurt or are ridiculously difficult but until you experience these things yourself there is a certain degree of this oblivion. The thing that worries me the most about Comrades isn't the distance it's the heat. I fall apart in the heat. The heat has been my downfall in all but one Ironman. The only Ironman that I actually had a great day in (in Germany), the weather was variable. Cool and a bit drizzly for the swim, warm on the bike and overcast for the run. This turned out to be the perfect conditions for me to be in. If it's really, really hot in Comrades I've got to keep an eye on my fluid intake and not push myself too hard or I'll spend the majority of the run puking by the kerbside and trying to find a loo. I'm not oblivious to how hideous this experience is and this is what worries me the most about Comrades. I can't do anything about that though so all I can do is train the best I can to make sure I'm fit and in good nick on the day and then monitor the heat and how to deal with it.
I'd love to write a little more but my eyelids have become heavier than my backside and with Aston currently having what I can only describe as an insatiable appetite (which translates into my world as immense sleep deprivation) I really need to get some zzzzzzz's. I was up at 1am, 4am and 6am feeding Aston and I've run 14 miles. I'm good for nothing except sleep.
Thanks for your comments and kind words. It's great to be blogging again & even better to be running again.
Night all :)
H
Sunday, 11 January 2015
Got to start somewhere...
...and I'm starting here. I have 22% battery on my computer, the power cable being the least of my worries as my desire to get to sleep as soon as possible being paramount so as I carry our 19wk old little boy, a 2 litre bottle of water and some washing up the stairs to start 'the bedtime' routine, the power cable was just one thing too much. Oh how my life has changed!
However, I wanted to post today to kick the blog off but it will be brief. Hey, there's 20 weeks of my blurb to read so keeping it brief today is a good thing.
Let's dive straight in. Why Comrades? Can I really do it with a demanding 3yr old (and she is a force to be reckoned with) and a 19wk old baby? The answer to why Comrades is simple, my husband said it was a good idea. Is it possible? - my husband said it was. For those who haven't met Tom, he's persuasive. Very persuasive. But more than that, I need to find myself again. I don't want to live in the past and start training 25-30hr weeks like I did when I was Ironman training. I do so many more hours than that picking up Rosie's toys and working out how to prevent a melt down when her banana snaps in half but this is precisely why I needed a challenge that would be a challenge. I know I can run a marathon, I know I can do an Ironman, I don't know if I can run 56 miles in one go though...although Tom's already told me I can, and hey, he's never wrong right?!!!! My children are amazing, love them to bits, the best thing that could have ever happened etc etc. But somewhere among the snot, tears, tantrums, dirty clothes and baby puke is me. I'm somewhere in there surrounded by this cloak of mummyness. When I run (and at the moment it's ungainly, slow (for me) and hard) but it's time out. No Aston swinging from my boob every hour and no Rosie swinging off my legs. Basically I escape. I run away from the house. I run thinking about all the things I need to do in the house. I put one foot in front of the other and eventually I end up back at the front door of the house where my kids are overjoyed to see me. My mental balance is restored and a tiny part of the old me (albeit heavier) emerges with every run that I do. This morning I ran ten whole miles. The furthest I've run in over a year. Lordy it was hard but oh my it was good to be out on a Sunday morning doing (for me) a long run.
It's time to clock off however, 8% battery life, my little girl is snoring in her room and my little boy is fast asleep on my left, my husband fast asleep on my right. Time for me to hit they hay too, I have one very hungry organic alarm clock that will promptly wake me between the hours of 2/3am.
Let's see what the next 20 weeks have in store shall we?! I think it's going to be an adventure.
H (the currently, bigger boob'd, bigger hipped version).
However, I wanted to post today to kick the blog off but it will be brief. Hey, there's 20 weeks of my blurb to read so keeping it brief today is a good thing.
Let's dive straight in. Why Comrades? Can I really do it with a demanding 3yr old (and she is a force to be reckoned with) and a 19wk old baby? The answer to why Comrades is simple, my husband said it was a good idea. Is it possible? - my husband said it was. For those who haven't met Tom, he's persuasive. Very persuasive. But more than that, I need to find myself again. I don't want to live in the past and start training 25-30hr weeks like I did when I was Ironman training. I do so many more hours than that picking up Rosie's toys and working out how to prevent a melt down when her banana snaps in half but this is precisely why I needed a challenge that would be a challenge. I know I can run a marathon, I know I can do an Ironman, I don't know if I can run 56 miles in one go though...although Tom's already told me I can, and hey, he's never wrong right?!!!! My children are amazing, love them to bits, the best thing that could have ever happened etc etc. But somewhere among the snot, tears, tantrums, dirty clothes and baby puke is me. I'm somewhere in there surrounded by this cloak of mummyness. When I run (and at the moment it's ungainly, slow (for me) and hard) but it's time out. No Aston swinging from my boob every hour and no Rosie swinging off my legs. Basically I escape. I run away from the house. I run thinking about all the things I need to do in the house. I put one foot in front of the other and eventually I end up back at the front door of the house where my kids are overjoyed to see me. My mental balance is restored and a tiny part of the old me (albeit heavier) emerges with every run that I do. This morning I ran ten whole miles. The furthest I've run in over a year. Lordy it was hard but oh my it was good to be out on a Sunday morning doing (for me) a long run.
It's time to clock off however, 8% battery life, my little girl is snoring in her room and my little boy is fast asleep on my left, my husband fast asleep on my right. Time for me to hit they hay too, I have one very hungry organic alarm clock that will promptly wake me between the hours of 2/3am.
Let's see what the next 20 weeks have in store shall we?! I think it's going to be an adventure.
H (the currently, bigger boob'd, bigger hipped version).
Sunday, 4 January 2015
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