What a difference a week makes. Last blog I was full of beans, full of life and full of running having clocked two really good weeks and feeling like finally I was getting somewhere. Carrying on from the last blog where I'd just done 16 miles I went on to run another 7 times consecutively before hitting this Wednesday. I never was a massive fan of rest days so unless I'm either really tired, really ill or have broken legs I just have easier runs. I had none of the above choices this Wednesday as Tom wasn't here so a rest day it was. By late Wednesday afternoon it was clear that my planned runs on Thursday, Friday & Saturday were also in jeopardy. With Tom working away in Cambridge (he's still there now) and Rosie coming down with a nasty dose of chicken pox I watched my independence and running freedom sail off into the distance. Three very, very broken nights sleep (or if you prefer, none at all) later and I'm seriously questioning wtf I'm doing?! I mean let's face it, the reality when you've got kids is that this sort of stuff is going to happen. I've not run or slept since Tuesday, I've got a really sore throat, a headache and a poorly little girl who inevitably will have passed on the wonder of the pox to Aston who has now got a snotty nose, a snotty eye and a chesty cough.
I always said that if I couldn't do the training justice I wouldn't do Comrades. I have absolute respect for the distance and am under no pretence (even with the wonder of oblivion) that it's a very long way and it requires a consistency of training that I just don't think I can seriously budget for right now. I've had a really good two weeks of running (and what I would say the real start of training) quickly followed by a non running week and my head just doesn't cope with that inconsistency very well. With the probability of Aston's pox yet to come I've spent the last few days at home wondering why I'm putting myself through the stress? I wanted a challenge, tick. I wanted to do something I've never done before, tick and I wanted to do something with Tom, tick. I didn't want to do something that would cause more stress and eat into family time that is already difficult to have with Tom being so busy.
Writing this I actually sound like I've made my mind up and I honestly haven't but right now while I'm housebound and have effectively been in my pyjamas for the last four days I can feel my motivation slipping away. Maybe that's just my fatigue, sore throat, headache and cabin fever talking but the prospect of tomorrow morning's 18 mile run having not run since Tuesday doesn't fill me with the excitement that it would have done if everything else was in place. I know that Rosie can't go to nursery on Monday & probably Tuesday so there's another two days I can't run and then it's Wednesday when she doesn't go anyway so is this not a little bit like pissing in the wind? I had a brief chat about it with close friends and a very short conversation with Tom. The answer being I shouldn't make up my mind quite yet but isn't the alternative (which is to train for something not so heavily taxing on time and energy) a better idea? I realise that regardless of what I train for, having kids and a busy husband is going to impact on my ability to get out every day but when Tom gets home tonight we both have to juggle tomorrow's long runs which inevitably means we still don't see each other. This isn't starting to sound like cricket to me anymore.
This blog was always going to be an honest one. These are just my thoughts over the last few days. Maybe tonight I'll have a great nights sleep and feel wonderful tomorrow and tick off an 18 mile run and everything will be well in the world but I'm just wondering if what I've actually just had is a reality check?!
All thoughts welcome.
H x
Showing posts with label Helen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Helen. Show all posts
Saturday, 28 February 2015
Wednesday, 18 February 2015
Independance, a hard run, a terrible long run & thanking the Lord for still being oblivious.
I'm freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
Week two of freedom is mine and it feels good. What is this teeny tiny thing that has helped my running move on in just the space of nine days and couldn't have come at a better time? ...
... Behold the running buggy. We dusted it off, pumped up the tyres and like a Formula One (more like 100) driver biting at the bit in the pits I was off and there's been no stopping me since. I can't even begin to tell you how much better I feel about my running, about myself and the fact that Comrades might even be a possibility (there's the oblivion again lol).
Since having Aston and therefore not being able to run when I wanted to I was finding running more frustrating than enjoyable. It bit into my day and it bit into Tom's day and it was stressful trying to get out of the door and back again so as not to impact too much on everything and everyone else. Tom would tell me the times of any spare window he had so I could get out. If said window didn't fit with Aston's feeding times then I would watch my running window get smaller and smaller. More often than not my run was reduced from an hour to thirty minutes and when I got back Tom would literally be waiting for me at the front door to hand Aston back so he could go back to work. It wasn't the best way to have a whole thirty minutes of me time I tell you. But now that Aston and I have wings (snail speed ones with wheels) we don't need any window except one that fits with us and I feel so much happier. All hail the mental positives that come from independance, worth it's weight in gold I tell you.
So what mileage have I been running and how's it actually going. I mean seriously, while I was on holiday and not even running the bear minimum I did think we actually might not do Comrades. Now, I feel like I'm actually getting somewhere and all it's taken is a 49 mile week and a running buggy.
Tom put together a basic training plan which is on here somewhere. Other than the long runs I haven't even looked at it. My basic week of training will barely change other than the long runs I would have thought. Last week (my first buggy running week) I did the following:
Monday: 6 miles (buggy)
Tuesday 7 miles (buggy)
Wed: Forced rest day as had Rosie and Aston & no Tom
Thursday: 6 miles (buggy)
Friday: 10miles (buggy)
Saturday: 6 miles (including a hard parkrun, more of this later) no buggy
Sunday: 14 miles with Tom (no buggy-Grandparents!)
The only thing about running with the buggy is I'm slow with it. Carrying two massive (but slowly shrinking milk jugs) and a lot more weight than normal means that when I hit an incline I really, really feel it. Hopefully though an increase in mileage and a decrease in feeding Aston now he's discovered real food will mean that I might start getting smaller top and bottom, but hey who cares, I'm out there pounding the streets and I'm loving it.
On Saturday my mate Hannah who has helped me immeasurably both mentally and physically over the last 6mths came over to pace me at Harrogate parkrun. When we were in San Fransisco I ran their inaugural parkrun and was really pleased (considering how little running I'd done) to run 22mins 52 secs. Tom promptly told me it might not have been accurate in distance (thanks for that Tom). Anyway I wanted a short hard run at Harrogate and was totally encouraged to do this by Hannah. Tom said he'd be impressed if I ran 23mins 59secs on that course. So there it was, the gauntlet, thrown down. I'm not sure who wanted me to get it more, me or Hannah. I didn't quite hit 23:59 but I did do 24:09 which is pretty close. I couldn't have done it without Hannah telling me to dig to the bottom of my milk jugs (not sure I'll ever forget this motivational quote Hannah!!) and Tom then said he thought it validated the time I'd run in San Fran (cheeky bugger). I was so pleased with my effort and the time yet at the same time can't believe that I'm still a whole 4 mins away from where I was and that 4 mins (at the mo) feels like it might as well be 44 mins. Small steps, small steps. I'm making progress and that's all that matters.
Visiting my parents in South Shields on Sunday, Tom and I took the opportunity to get out and do our 14 miler together. I made a string of errors in my preparation. Having had a late lunch on Sat I wasn't hungry for dinner on Sat eve so didn't bother. I got to bed at 10:30pm but Aston woke up for a feed at 2am, Rosie woke up at 3am and Aston woke for another feed at 5am, after which I didn't go back to sleep and got up. Stupidly I didn't have breakfast either as I ran around sorting everything out to make looking after Aston and Rosie as easy as possible for my Ma & Pa. Consequently I wanted to die and eat my own feet (all at the same time) at about 8 miles. We ran all along the coast which is beautiful and bimbled about the riverside winding our way through the dry docks and random piers and all I kept saying to Tom was, ..."How far have we done now?" My legs were tired and heavy and I was hungry. The whole thing was such a slog. When we got home I ate the entire contents of my Mothers cupboards. Runs like this make me scared because hey I can't be oblivious about the fact that I would still have the tiny sum of 42 miles left to run on the day, eeeeek!!!! Thankfully though I still have no real idea how far 56 miles (very, I hear you say) is going to feel so I'll hold onto my oblivion for now thanks.
So there you have it, it's happening, the running is well, running. Today (Weds) while Tom's Ma & Step Dad are here I took the opportunity to let them have time on their own with the kids... actually who am I kidding... I took the opportunity to escape from my kids and ran 16 miles and enjoyed it all. I'd had sleep and breakfast so although I'm a little snail ticking along, I was a happy little snail.
And this little snail needs some sleep so it's time to hit the pillows. Everyone else here (except me) is filling the house with zzzzzzzzzzzzzz's. It's time for me to add my own.
Night all.
H :)
Week two of freedom is mine and it feels good. What is this teeny tiny thing that has helped my running move on in just the space of nine days and couldn't have come at a better time? ...
... Behold the running buggy. We dusted it off, pumped up the tyres and like a Formula One (more like 100) driver biting at the bit in the pits I was off and there's been no stopping me since. I can't even begin to tell you how much better I feel about my running, about myself and the fact that Comrades might even be a possibility (there's the oblivion again lol).
Since having Aston and therefore not being able to run when I wanted to I was finding running more frustrating than enjoyable. It bit into my day and it bit into Tom's day and it was stressful trying to get out of the door and back again so as not to impact too much on everything and everyone else. Tom would tell me the times of any spare window he had so I could get out. If said window didn't fit with Aston's feeding times then I would watch my running window get smaller and smaller. More often than not my run was reduced from an hour to thirty minutes and when I got back Tom would literally be waiting for me at the front door to hand Aston back so he could go back to work. It wasn't the best way to have a whole thirty minutes of me time I tell you. But now that Aston and I have wings (snail speed ones with wheels) we don't need any window except one that fits with us and I feel so much happier. All hail the mental positives that come from independance, worth it's weight in gold I tell you.
So what mileage have I been running and how's it actually going. I mean seriously, while I was on holiday and not even running the bear minimum I did think we actually might not do Comrades. Now, I feel like I'm actually getting somewhere and all it's taken is a 49 mile week and a running buggy.
Tom put together a basic training plan which is on here somewhere. Other than the long runs I haven't even looked at it. My basic week of training will barely change other than the long runs I would have thought. Last week (my first buggy running week) I did the following:
Monday: 6 miles (buggy)
Tuesday 7 miles (buggy)
Wed: Forced rest day as had Rosie and Aston & no Tom
Thursday: 6 miles (buggy)
Friday: 10miles (buggy)
Saturday: 6 miles (including a hard parkrun, more of this later) no buggy
Sunday: 14 miles with Tom (no buggy-Grandparents!)
The only thing about running with the buggy is I'm slow with it. Carrying two massive (but slowly shrinking milk jugs) and a lot more weight than normal means that when I hit an incline I really, really feel it. Hopefully though an increase in mileage and a decrease in feeding Aston now he's discovered real food will mean that I might start getting smaller top and bottom, but hey who cares, I'm out there pounding the streets and I'm loving it.
On Saturday my mate Hannah who has helped me immeasurably both mentally and physically over the last 6mths came over to pace me at Harrogate parkrun. When we were in San Fransisco I ran their inaugural parkrun and was really pleased (considering how little running I'd done) to run 22mins 52 secs. Tom promptly told me it might not have been accurate in distance (thanks for that Tom). Anyway I wanted a short hard run at Harrogate and was totally encouraged to do this by Hannah. Tom said he'd be impressed if I ran 23mins 59secs on that course. So there it was, the gauntlet, thrown down. I'm not sure who wanted me to get it more, me or Hannah. I didn't quite hit 23:59 but I did do 24:09 which is pretty close. I couldn't have done it without Hannah telling me to dig to the bottom of my milk jugs (not sure I'll ever forget this motivational quote Hannah!!) and Tom then said he thought it validated the time I'd run in San Fran (cheeky bugger). I was so pleased with my effort and the time yet at the same time can't believe that I'm still a whole 4 mins away from where I was and that 4 mins (at the mo) feels like it might as well be 44 mins. Small steps, small steps. I'm making progress and that's all that matters.
Visiting my parents in South Shields on Sunday, Tom and I took the opportunity to get out and do our 14 miler together. I made a string of errors in my preparation. Having had a late lunch on Sat I wasn't hungry for dinner on Sat eve so didn't bother. I got to bed at 10:30pm but Aston woke up for a feed at 2am, Rosie woke up at 3am and Aston woke for another feed at 5am, after which I didn't go back to sleep and got up. Stupidly I didn't have breakfast either as I ran around sorting everything out to make looking after Aston and Rosie as easy as possible for my Ma & Pa. Consequently I wanted to die and eat my own feet (all at the same time) at about 8 miles. We ran all along the coast which is beautiful and bimbled about the riverside winding our way through the dry docks and random piers and all I kept saying to Tom was, ..."How far have we done now?" My legs were tired and heavy and I was hungry. The whole thing was such a slog. When we got home I ate the entire contents of my Mothers cupboards. Runs like this make me scared because hey I can't be oblivious about the fact that I would still have the tiny sum of 42 miles left to run on the day, eeeeek!!!! Thankfully though I still have no real idea how far 56 miles (very, I hear you say) is going to feel so I'll hold onto my oblivion for now thanks.
So there you have it, it's happening, the running is well, running. Today (Weds) while Tom's Ma & Step Dad are here I took the opportunity to let them have time on their own with the kids... actually who am I kidding... I took the opportunity to escape from my kids and ran 16 miles and enjoyed it all. I'd had sleep and breakfast so although I'm a little snail ticking along, I was a happy little snail.
And this little snail needs some sleep so it's time to hit the pillows. Everyone else here (except me) is filling the house with zzzzzzzzzzzzzz's. It's time for me to add my own.
Night all.
H :)
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, 4 January 2015
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