Some thoughts for a new year

 

Nativity with robots

It's been a much longer gap between posts than I intended. 

Recovery from the Spiral wasn't straightforward and I have been really struggling with fatigue over the last couple of months. It's been so bad that I was getting home from work and just lying under a blanket until going to bed at 8pm. Some of this malaise is down to the lack of daylight (every year I'm finding the winter months more difficult), but I also had to get blood work done last month and it turned out that lots of things are not as they should be which also accounts for being so wiped out. I'm taking various things to help sort it out but it was also suggested that I pay careful attention to my diet as well. I thought I was eating pretty well but there's room for improvement.

In amongst all that there have been some awesome theatre: an impromptu trip to the NT with my younger one to see Bacchae, and a couple of other theatre trips to see student productions of The Crucible and Electra (again both with youngest). 

Christmas was strange. Not what I hoped it would be but still I am grateful just to have had the time away from work. 

New year itself was very quiet. I spent it with my dad who I think is being crushed by mum's death. At first he was busy and seemed to be doing fine, but as the year has gone on the weight of her absence is more and more heavy on him. It's breaking my heart to see. 

Looking ahead, I think this is the first time in years that I'm not starting the year with any races booked. I'm honestly not sure if I even will race again. I have nothing to prove and although there are a few races I'd love to have a go at, they are not accessible- either due to my very limited budget or because I can't take time off work. 

What did I learn last year?

 I don't need to prove anything.

 I can race- actually run to win not just come first by accident.

The best things for my fitness mostly don't involve running.

My energy is limited and I need to prioritise where it goes.

Maths, music, nature, reading, making, staying curious, as well as taking care of my physical health are all essential.

Commonplace miracles are more important than the extraordinary. 

A commonplace miracle- hidden in a Devon hedgerow I found wild strawberry in flower on New Year's Day!

The Spiral: a race review

Having written about my own race experience and feelings before, during and after Underground Run Club's Spiral 6 hour race I wanted to write a more general (and shorter) blog reviewing the race.

The Underground Run Club:

I love the ethos of this club. No fuss, no glitz and glamour, no crowds, no hype. Just a small bunch of lovely people running together. I really don't like crowds and, having experienced some big races, hate the circus that can surround them. At the end of the day it's just running- no one's a hero or superior just because they did some running. 

Practicalities: 

It was easy to get to on public transport and, for those who did drive, there was parking nearby. I loved the midday start because I didn't need to get up stupid early, the trains had properly got going and, because I wasn't worried about missing a ridiculously early alarm, I slept ok the night before. Not brilliant, but at least it wasn't one of those nights when you wake every hour or so to check the time in case of oversleeping.

For female runners it's a particularly manageable event. The later start means that if you need to arrange childcare you're not imposing on someone to have your children from stupid o'clock in the morning or from the night before. If your children are of a sensible age they could even come with you as they'd be quite safe at the venue (but I'm not 100% sure on the club's rules so you would need to check that you could leave them trackside while you run). There's no need to worry about being on your own somewhere strange- sometimes trail races can leave you feeling a bit vulnerable if you're on your own (see what happened to me on loops 5 and 8 (?) of the Copthorne 100). And, there are toilets! I've run lovely races but quite often you waste a lot of energy on watching out for suitable discreet places to have a wee or manage your period. Admittedly, at the Parliament Hill Fields Track the toilets are up two short stretches of steps (about 5 or 6 each) which is really no fun after several hours of running, but at least you can go for a wee in peace and not worry about accidently mooning anyone!

You get your drop bag every 400 metres. Everything you need is to hand and if you're undecided about kit, snacks, fluids you can bring it all and leave it by the track to take whenever you want. This could encourage faffing, but it does also give you peace of mind. I can imagine it would be particularly beneficial if the weather was bad- you could change into warm, dry kit as often as you wanted.

Running experience:

It's a fantastic opportunity for any runner. You can turn up and run-walk all the way, run for a bit then take as long a break as you need then get back to running, you can push hard and try to run a PB for a distance, or you can just keep going and going at whatever speed is right for you. There were people running their first marafun distance, some going from a previous longest distance of half-marafun to their first 50k. Some were just there to see what would happen on the day. I think the lack of pressure meant that many people achieved more than they imagined they could.

Whilst you might think that endless laps of a track is a real messer-upper of the head, I think it makes it a more mentally manageable event. The idea of running x amount of miles point to point can feel really daunting whereas here you just keep moving until you can't/don't want to/ have to stop.

Seeing everyone so frequently during the race was lovely. Everyone offered encouragement to each other and that's something that is often missing from big events. It made for a unique atmosphere and I know I came away from the race feeling better for having experienced such camaraderie. These days so many of us feel isolated, or worn down by how tough life or work can be, and although it might sound trite, it was spiritually enriching to be in this little bubble of kindness.

Volunteers:

A great bunch of volunteers. They would make up your bottle of electrolytes or carbs and hold it out for you to grab at the start of a lap. They were always offering gels or snacks. At the end they even offered hugs despite me being a sweaty, snotty mess by then. I loved the impromptu singing through the megaphone- excellent effort with the Kate Bush song!

Race bling:

These days I'm really not bothered about medals and such like and am long past the days when I would be tempted to run a race just because I liked the medal. But the Spiral medals are very handsome- quite different to any other medals I've seen. And I did treat myself to a limited edition Spiral t-shirt because I liked the idea of having a proper t-shirt I can wear rather than yet another flimsy 'technical' tee that never fits me anyway.

Limited edition Spiral t-shirt

Everyone got a polaroid photo from before the race. I've seen lots of lovely comments about that, but I look terrible in my photo (my fault, not the photographer's!).

I don't know what the plans are for future races, but it was awesome to get a custom vinyl cover for my winner's prize. Trophies are nice (not that I've won many of those!) but this is something I can frame and keep as a piece of artwork. 

Summary:

 If I had to give a rating out of ten for this race it would definitely be 10/10.

Awesome event, put on by an awesome bunch of people. Thank you!

Inspiring Spirals

Well, this is a post I wasn't expecting to write! 

On Saturday morning Bernard and I took the train to London and went to Parliament Hill Athletics Track to take part in the first edition of The Spiral, a 6 hour track race put on by the Underground Run Club. I was not feeling particularly confident as I'd been under the weather at the start of the month and although I was training fairly consistently, my running volume was not high and I'd only managed a couple of 'longer' runs (10 and 11 miles). However, for once my Garmin was being positive, telling me that during my taper week I was actually peaking!

Here's actual evidence of the Garmin device!

I arrived at the track feeling apprehensive. I've not run on a track for about 9 years and I was worried there would be lots of 'proper' runners who do track stuff all the time and who run at a high level in their clubs, and that I'd be so rubbish compared to everyone else. I was also expecting it to be sunny as the last forecast I'd looked at had sunshine or at least sunny intervals for the day. Instead it was grey and somewhat chilly.

My fellow runners were neither grey nor chilly, and it was nice chatting before the race with several of them. There was a lovely lady with fab Happy Stride shorts who had been battling injury to make it to the start. There was also MDS man who I just knew was going to have a solid race. A lovely guy with a bright long-sleeved top had set up his bag next to me and he kindly said I could have some of his snacks as he'd brought loads of food just in case. I had brought a fair bit too as I never know what I will be able to eat on the day.

The volunteers were welcoming too, very laid back. I wonder if the RD was feeling as anxious as I was- it must be nerve-wracking putting on a new race and wondering if people will turn up or whether things will go wrong. But she needn't have worried as it was such a fantastic event.

After a short briefing the race got underway. I was near the front at the start but was overtaken almost straight away by runners sprinting off. I hadn't really put together a race plan but found myself trundling along a little over 9 min/mile (5:35/km) pace and for the first 4 hours I was running pretty consistently.

Quite early on (maybe 2 hours in?) I was told that I was leading the women's race. I did my best to put that information out of my head to focus on maintaining a consistent pace and taking on fluid and calories regularly. I really didn't want to blow up from wasting energy worrying about being overtaken and losing. I'd not gone into the race with any though of winning- just of keeping going for all of the six hours. However, I did pretty much run scared for the rest of the race.

But I've jumped ahead a bit. The laps and time seemed to fly by. I felt so grateful for the opportunity to participate in the race, to be with such lovely people and to be healthy enough to run. And it felt good to just run, no need to carry anything other than a small water bottle in my hand. That really was like a luxury! The simplicity of running round the same short loop also meant that senses other than sight came into play. I was listening out for trains and those little rosellas or parakeets that are all over London now and remind me of my time living in Australia. And I really noticed a distinct change in temperature in the final bend, where for some reason it felt much warmer than anywhere else on the track. 

We were given countdowns at various points, after the first half hour, hour, two hours, and a 15 minute warning at 2:45 as the change of direction approached. By then I felt ready for a change as it felt as though I'd gone a bit lopsided and was feeling a little dizzy. My right hip flexors had begun to grumble by then too but I was ignoring that very hard. Just before the change of direction I hit a 20 mile PB but I wasn't too bothered about collecting PBs along the way, I just wanted to be able to keep running.

At the change of direction my legs felt suddenly energised and I think I picked up the pace for a few laps. I reached marafun distance with something like a 5 minute PB- at last the elusive sub-4 hour time!- but at this point I wasn't feeling so great. It's hard to describe the discomfort I was in. I wasn't able to eat or drink so well, not even the liquid calories from Mountain Fuel, and I didn't feel quite human. My legs didn't feel like legs any more. I felt more like a robot- although running was hurting, I couldn't stop. Or at least, I was too scared to stop or even take short walk breaks in case I couldn't start running again. And I was haunted by the fact that I was possibly still leading and I thought I'd let people (I don't know who!) down if I didn't win.

So the usual ultra-bargaining went on in my head: "well just hang on for 5 hours then see", "5 hours is too far away, get to 4 hours 30 then it's nearly 5 hours", "don't take a break yet, do another few laps first", "well you've just done 10 more minutes of running so you might as well do 10 more"... all the usual little mind games and tricks I play to keep moving. Up until now it had been easy to pay attention to my fellow Spirallers and offer encouragement and cheery words but I was retreating into my head now, needing to focus as much of my energy as I could on the battle with myself. But at 4:46 I hit a huge 50k PB- taking off over 15 minutes!

One hour to go.

The floodlights came on. I liked the change of atmosphere that came with the lights, and it made me feel more serious about what I was doing. I had now made the decision to win no matter how much it hurt. Running to win was new territory. I'd never done anything like that before, never even thought that way before. Sure, ultras hurt. Copthorne broke me in ways I didn't think were possible, but even that race was only ever about finishing. This time it was different and I meant business.

However, at this point I did stop briefly. I hurt so much, I was feeling the pressure to win and physically and emotionally overwhelmed. Time for a quick Power Sob. I tried explaining that to a couple of young women who were there supporting another runner but I was probably more or less incoherent. Anyway, the Power Sob done, I forced myself back onto the track and to run. 

At this point my lap splits had definitely slowed, but actually not by as much as it felt. This last hour did feel so long! The minutes hardly seemed to pass- each time I ran past the clock I was willing the time to have moved on more that it had. The ultra-bargaining continued and I tried really hard not to think about finishing, let alone winning. I didn't want my mind to do something stupid and stop telling my legs to move- I remembered reading about an American runner (at the end of Western States I think) who, upon reaching the track for the last few hundred metres of the race, had his body just quit on him because his mind saw the finish line. Instead I borrowed Courtney Dauwalter's pain cave image and chipped away at that cave, practising gratitude for having this opportunity to really push myself and expand what I was capable of.

Other runners were really struggling out there too, and I tried to offer some support. It helped a little to run beside others for a short while as we acknowledged our pain before one or other of us would move ahead and retreat into silent determination. At this point, big thanks to red shirt red shorts guy. You inspired me!

We were all living for the countdown to the end now, and at some point (maybe around 30 minutes from the end) I dashed over to my bag and grabbed Bernard. I don't know why, I just needed to run with him and there was something comforting about holding a small pink monster. The music started up in the last minutes and it was both motivating and overwhelming because suddenly the end of the race was actually going to happen. But when it came, it felt unreal. 

In some strange way although I hurt so much, I wanted to keep running.

I went through the finish for the last time at 5:59:38 having run almost 39.5 miles.

Post-race is a bit of a haze. I was very emotional, utterly drained, and in disbelief that I'd covered 155 laps, won the women's race AND got prizes.

What I mostly remember is everyone standing together and the wonderful sense of community and celebration at everyone's achievements.

It was the most awesome experience and I am immensely grateful that I got to take part. Next year I will return, but to volunteer not run. Probably not run...

Bernard with his hard-earned race mementos

Ups and Downs

 

I'm writing this from bed as I have succumbed to one of the several unpleasant viruses going around at work, and on top of that I'm back on strong antibiotics which are making me feel pretty rough too. It's so frustrating because it's been a decent start to the term- there are no classes I really dread this year although many are extremely hard work- and for the first time in ages I feel that I'm often genuinely supporting students' learning rather than trying to manage behaviour. It's also frustrating because, with a sizeable effort of will-power, I've been able to train consistently and am slowly improving my fitness which took a nose dive a year ago.

I should have paid better attention to the warning signs- I wasn't quite right on my longer run on Sunday. Then on Wednesday my legs had nothing and I needed to take walk breaks during that run. But sometimes I forget that I can't do what I could even 10 years ago and just push on regardless. So here I am.

The frustration from not being able to train is not just because I felt I had settled into the rhythm of it at last. I have an event coming up that I am quite excited about because it's something I've never done before. I'm doing a 6 hour track race! 

Why a track race? Recently most of my running has been on the roads. I'm enjoying being able to just run and not worry about tripping over roots and stones or sliding in mud. Also, I'm much less likely to be chased or jumped on by dogs. It has felt liberating to simply run and be able to look around rather than run whilst looking at the ground. Running on a track will just be about running. And I have been wanting to do something different, something that will be a new experience. I don't have the luxury of being able to afford or take time off to do one of those multi-day ultras or race in some spectacular location. I also can't spend that kind of money on the sort of kit needed for those things. But a track race will be a challenge because there are so many unknowns. How will my brain manage the same loop score of times? What will the unending flatness be like? Will it be like a moving meditation or will it be a huge battle to keep going? What is going to be the best way of managing hydration and food? Would aiming for a marafun or 50km PB be realistic without burning out before the 6 hours?

As a sort of running fitness test, I did a local road race a couple of weeks ago. I hadn't specifically trained for it but hoped that my general fitness would get me though ok. I was pretty pleased with the result because although I was very much mid-pack, I ran around 8 minutes quicker than my estimate and felt strong all the way round (except for the final beast of a hill). On reflection I could have gone a bit quicker, but I'd never done a 10 mile race before and didn't really know how it would go. 

I have also been giving some thought to 'off-season' training and I think it could be fun to learn a new sport. I'm not quite sure what, although I have a few ideas. All I know is that it's good to keep learning.

Summer insights

 Work has left me with very little energy to spare. I am used up just absorbing the impact of being in the classroom. It didn't use to be this way but it's the reality of working in schools these days. Because of this, it's been necessary to spend time thinking about how best to cope with my current level of physical and emotional exhaustion.

I've written before about trying to train smarter but this time it's a little different.  I do need to dial back what I'm trying to do because I've been in a cycle of forcing myself to train, getting completely splatted, then needing enforced rest, and that's just not healthy. The constant presence of my sports watch has not been helping either because I've become too hung up with the numbers and it's started to feed into a less than healthy relationship with food and exercise. So I've stopped wearing the watch and, this is far more important, I'm backing off training because I have finally acknowledged that I have nothing to prove. I don't need to prove that I'm tough, that I can run a long way, that I can run all day and all night. I don't need to do all that to make sure I'm loved or to gain approval. I just need to do whatever training is necessary to stay strong, healthy and postpone the deterioration of my bones for as long as possible. And what I need as a person is more time doing stuff that isn't training. 

Finding the right balance is going to be tricky, and I suspect that whatever 'balance' is will keep changing. But acknowledging that what I need to do is step back and stop pushing so hard is huge. I'm not sure what this journey will be like, but for my health and sanity it's a path I need to explore right now.

So less running, less other training. More time photographing things that I find beautiful or interesting, continuing with various garden projects, rediscovering the theatre, reading, and resting. 

Comma, seen on my way home from work recently

Spring updates

 

Well it's been quite an eventful few months since the last time I wrote. It took some careful rehabbing of the ankle to get back to running comfortably but I struggled to shift a virus so training has mostly been stop-start with really only the last few weeks seeing any consistency.

I had entered a 50k ages ago and talked a colleague into running it too but as the weeks passed I was really concerned that my lack of running was going to be a problem. I could just blame the virus and also how tired I'm getting from being in class all day every day, but to be honest I haven't been enjoying running much either. The lack of focus on running meant that my aerobic fitness had significantly fallen away and it was just horrible plodding out 5km or so and feeling out of breath and tired. But I haven't even wanted to run much, instead choosing to lift or do plyometrics several times a week.

However, I decided that this would be my last race and that I should at least try for 4 weeks of consistent running so that I wouldn't feel completely destroyed and miserable during or after the race. It was hard, and I think I was only managing about 30 miles a week, maybe 35, but I was hoping that experience would get me through. So 6th April arrived and we rocked up at Salcey Forest neither of us feeling up for it. My colleague had been in Wales the day before for swim training so was pretty tired before we even started. I was just grumpy because it was freezing cold and I was trying to think of ways to not run.

At the start I met someone I had worked with briefly last year. It was lovely to have a bit of a catch up so and the three of us started the race running together and chatting. It was sunny, the ground was dry and the first few miles went by comfortably enough. I felt pretty good and said to Carrie and Chris that I was going to crack on and see how far I could get before the wheels came off.

The first loop was done in pretty much what I'd anticipated as being my best pace. Quick refill of my water bottle and off onto loop 2. Legs were feeling good although my hips weren't sure about the relatively flat course. There were two or three sections that were already very dry and rutted and required a lot of concentration and careful picking of the way and I made a mental note to take especial care as I became more tired.

Loop 2 completed about 2 minutes quicker than the first- hmm maybe I should take it a  bit easier on the next time round. I don't want to blow up and end up walking the last 12 miles. Loop 3 was definitely less fun after the first few miles. I was having episodes of light-headedness and my hips flexors were sore. My feet were getting sore too from the very hard and dry conditions underfoot. I decided to push on but monitor the dizzy spells- remember to drink more!

I came in at the end of that loop about the same time as I completed loop 1. Nice. But I wasn't feeling good so the last 8 miles were going to be damage limitation. Just get round, don't fall over. But as I set off I though I might as well run as much as I could and save walking for when I really couldn't run any more. I did stop briefly at the mid-way aid station though as I'd caught up with Carrie who was on her 3rd loop. I was also feeling nauseous by this point and asked if they had anything with ginger. Stupidly, I hadn't stashed a bag of crystallised ginger in my pack. The one time I forgot was the one time I needed it! Oh well, just keep going.

I didn't enjoy those last 4 miles, so I kept running just to get it over with. There was nothing left for a final sprint to the finish line, but at least I was running. Then something ridiculous happened:

I was first! Utterly nuts! Me, win a race?!

The best bit was cheering in everyone as they came in at the end of a loop and set off again, and as they finished. Chris finished his first ultra in really good form and now has the ultra bug I think. Carrie finished with some solid power walking and honestly her race was so impressive given the amount of other training she's doing to prepare for swimming the Channel as part of a relay team.

What a lovely end to what I'd expected to be a pretty miserable day!

Unfortunately it's not been so lovely since- we've had water pouring through a light fitting, holes in the ceiling and a couple of days with no water or heating. Then someone drove into my car...

But I'm back to my strength training, and maybe just maybe I'll do another race.

Round and round we go

 I pretty much slept the Christmas holidays away, I was so tired. I didn't do any of the things I'd hoped or planned except I did finally learn how to knit a Mobius strip.  And then I knitted some more. 

And some hyperbolic surfaces.

The year has started with a long course of antibiotics which I'm really not enjoying.  I don't do new year resolutions, but I did want to use a new year to get back to consistency with both strength work and running. It looked like I'd found a routine I could stick to... but then I went over on my ankle on a run.

And just as that has healed I'm down with one of the lurgies going round at work and have spent the weekend so far not feeling up to doing anything of what I wanted. It is so very frustrating.

It just feels like another year of obstacles and setbacks already.

Christmas flowers

 To the mystery sender of these flowers, thank you so much. They've even settled themselves into a heart shape!

A Time of Uncertainty

 

The expected happened the week before I wasn't going to run the Copthorne 200. 

The last time I saw my mum was on Hallowe'en, surrounded by bats. 

The funeral happened earlier this month, and we will at some point have the ashes interred in a spot at the village church. 

I don't really have anything else I can say about it all. The last six weeks or so have felt quite surreal- the contrast between the peaceful and gentle time I've spent with dad and family and the absolute craziness of work has been difficult to navigate. And life has felt relentless with any time at home spent frantically trying to catch up on chores or preparing to be away again. 

***

But to step back to my last post, I thought that the decision to withdraw from the Copthorne race would feel like the lifting of a burden and that I'd get back to enjoying running and training because it was fun. That didn't happen. Instead I have found it harder and harder to find the motivation to get up and out, to run, lift, jump. I do think that this winter the lengthening hours of darkness have hit me especially hard- I genuinely could be in bed for every hour and minute there's no daylight. There's a deep tiredness right to my bones, malaise is probably a better word for it, that I just can't shift. Yet despite the mental and physical 'splat' I feel lost without a specific goal to work towards.

Last year my sole aim was to see if I could recover from Covid. Moving house and job upheaval spiced that up a bit. This year was all about Copthorne but underneath it all I wonder if I just didn't care enough. With a really big goal you have want to achieve it more than anything, and if I'm honest I just don't feel that way about running any more. Like other things I have loved and that have been my all, it's turned around and hurt me so deeply that those wounds will never truly heal. 

I know that my identity is not based on me the runner but I do feel fractured, floating adrift. Lacking in purpose. That's it- I don't have a 'why'. I continue to do just about enough training to help my bones and be generally healthy. Often I don't enjoy it but it's a necessity, one of those things like cleaning the the toilet or putting out the bins that you just have to do because the consequences of not doing are undesirable. And for me, that's not enough 'why'.

Work is also an uncertainty. The current situation in education is extremely challenging for a number of reasons. I'm waiting to see how the economic situation is going to affect my workplace- the DfE says schools will have to make 'efficiencies' but how to do that when schools are already cut to the bone? I am not presently afraid of redundancy and it is even possible that the current climate will actually create some opportunities. But I will have to see how the next little while goes.

For the next few days I will try to put all the uncertainty to one side and just rest. Perhaps the weather will finally be settled enough for me to get into the garden- there is much work to do out there!

But for now I wish you few readers a joyous Christmas.

Journey to a DNS

 

This is a bit of a rough and ready post- it's been very difficult to write.

The joy is in the journey, as the saying goes. Certainly the journey has been fun at times and deciding to work with a coach has been the best decision I've made in a very long time. I'm fitter and stronger than ever and have achieved things I never imagined being able to even attempt. The journey has also been really tough. Meeting those challenges has brought gains not just in terms of physical fitness and strength, but also in a hugely improved my relationship with my body and food. But for a number of reasons training for the Copthorne 200 has proved to be more than I can cope with and I have decided to withdraw from the race.

It's been quite a year so far:

 Running-wise: I started working with my coach in January. January to May I raced a marathon or a 50km each month. June and August I ran unsupported 50kms on the Copthorne loop. 

General life stuff: I've had to switch between four different jobs, for a while juggling three zero hour contracts before returning to full-time work in the classroom. Despite being back in a regular job, money is still a constant worry and that's something that takes too much of my energy. There's been the ASC diagnosis journey with one of my children whilst supporting them through A-levels. Eldest has a new job for which they need the car so I have only very limited access to transport. This has a huge impact on so many aspects of life, especially as public transport is so limited and unreliable where we live. My mum is now in the last weeks of terminal cancer so I'm back to the weekend round trips of 500 miles. Moya-hen left us at the start of this week and her last hours just broke my heart. And try as I might, I simply can't get back to pre-Covid levels of energy and resilience.

So piling all of the life stuff on top of the training needed just to deserve to be on the start line of a 200 mile race has left me overwhelmed and exhausted.  I can't put in the hours of training I need to and mentally I haven't got the spare energy or the drive. There has been so much challenge and difficulty in daily life that I feel no inclination to seek out the self-indulgence of extreme ultra suffering- I don't need to prove that I can suffer and keep going.  I feel in the middle of a perfect storm and something has to give- I'm not willing for that something to be my family or my health and sanity. 

But maybe I never cared enough about the race in the first place. Maybe my motivation isn't honest enough- am I still trying to prove a point to people who don't care and shouldn't matter any more?  Maybe you're thinking I don't have what it takes anyway.

Fortunately I have the most fantastic coach and I'm going to keep working with him, just adjust the focus and perhaps work towards a completely different goal in a completely different sport. Watch this space...

Less than six months to go

 

As I write, tomorrow is June. Just under 25 weeks before the main race of the year.

How is it all going? Well the work I'm doing with my coach is paying off. I'm stronger, fitter and recovering better than ever. And my mental game is stronger too. It's so good being able to talk through things with someone else and have them challenge me, get me to reassess my thought processes and mindset. Knowing that someone has my back is such a huge thing.

I'm also very hungry! Getting to grips with nutrition is  proving a significant part of this training journey too. I think I have a much better relationship with food and eating now- it does help that the training I've been doing has significantly changed my body composition and the menopot belly is gone- but my understanding of the need to fuel properly is deeper and I'm not afraid to eat enough. In the past I've generally only had compliments about my figure when I've been quite underweight so when my coach told me the other week that I'm looking solid I was delighted. Because he means that I look strong, able to endure. I've made a conscious effort in myself not to slip into saying I feel 'big' or 'heavy' but to choose a more positive word like 'sturdy' (like the rebuilt Andromeda when Doyle asks her how she feels in her new avatar). 

That positive self-talk is something we've discussed in my training sessions too. The fact that if I'm giving myself a hard time, focussing on things that aren't going well or on feeling tired or unhappy, then it will just reinforce not feeling so good. 

Last Sunday I had an opportunity to put a lot of this into practice when I ran Runaway Racing  Greensand Country 50k The last two races I've done haven't gone to plan and I've not enjoyed them so this time I really wanted to have a better day out. Whilst I don't really like the idea of liquid calories, I gave Mountain Fuel Xtreme Energy fuel another try as I've just not been taking in sufficient calories during races; I figured it would also get me drinking more too. I also decided not to be so speedy through aid stations but instead to take time to get some real food and empty out then properly refill my bottles. Both the liquid calories and the extra minute or two at aid stations really did seem to help. I didn't have a meltdown or require a power sob and I never got as far as that horrible can't think straight or be rational state that I know is down to not eating and drinking enough.

I also made an effort to appreciate the day- I was grateful for the sun because I love running in the sun but I was also appreciative of the rain as it was refreshing. Every stretch of flat, downhill or smooth road and trail I took as a gift allowing me to properly run. And I did run most of it despite the return of that hip flexor niggle. I accepted it was uncomfortable, that it was making it hard to pick up my right leg properly but I knew it would probably stop hurting a few hours after finishing the race so there was no point in worrying or being upset about it.

The last 1km or so of the race. I was pushing myself hard but able to smile.

I had a lovely day out- a little slower than I would have liked (still sneaking into the top 10 though!) but I made a bad shoe choice because I hadn't expected the mud to be Mud of Epic Proportions. I rescued a vole; saw demoiselles, butterflies and stunning foxgloves; heard so much birdsong. Lots of members of the public were out and about and everyone was so friendly and encouraging. I would definitely recommend this race for anyone wanting to run an ultra but is a bit nervous about it.

This was a race I needed to go well- either for things to go to plan or to be able to take any setbacks in my stride. The hard work is where growth happens and it was so good to see that hard work pay off and to be able to appreciate the progress I'm making.

Life right now is far from perfect- more change is on the horizon and will require a lot of adjustment and adaptation on my part- but I'll settle for honest hard work and the opportunity to keep learning.

Spring update

 I was going to write a report on running Canary Trail Events inaugural Surrey Hills Marathon in March but never got around to it. Partly because of being busy but also because I had a rubbish day and I didn't want to make it sound like the event is rubbish because it's not. It was friendly, low-key, well-organised, everything you'd expect from the CTE team. But I just had a bad day out. My head wasn't in the right place at all and I couldn't focus on the task in hand. And I had a complete melt down at mile 20, for ne obvious reason just completely fell apart.

Photo by Lenny Martin

Then last month I ran Runaway Racing Chiltern Ridge 50km. Another rubbish day out. I had wanted to finish in around 5:30 but was almost an hour slower. There just didn't seem to be anything in my legs although conditions underfoot were quite nasty in places which certainly didn't help. I pushed myself as much as I could but my body wouldn't respond how I needed it to which was incredibly frustrating. And again, another melt down at the last CP. I don't know what was wrong. Maybe I got nutrition wrong; maybe I was just exhausted from how the year has gone so far; maybe there was no particular reason.

Anyway, for various reasons it's been tough trying to recover from the last race but I'm doing my best to focus on nutrition, sleep and adapting training to what I think my body needs. 

Right now the race in November feels like an impossibility. I can't see or imagine how I can be ready for it let alone finish. When I was training for Copthorne 100 I was really focussed and training for that race was the most important thing in my life but I can't seem to find that drive and focus now. I don't know if it's because I don't care enough about it, whether I'm deeply fatigued, whether the pressures of simply surviving and making ends meet are taking all my energy. 

New beginnings

 Yes, it's been far too long since the last post. I'm not going to do a huge recap on everything that has happened but here is a brief summary:

Between the last post and August 2023 not an awful lot, mostly very tired. 

August 2023 I ran a marafun on a loopy loop timed event. I'd spent the first part of the summer break utterly wiped out- getting out of bed was a struggle, doing anything much left me so tired I'd have to lie down and rest- but I'd set myself the goal of going to this looped event just to see how I'd manage. I took things really easy and actually once I'd got a couple of loops done my body remembered about running and it felt good.

That same day I had a phone call saying the housing association paperwork had all gone through and as of that moment we were tenants of a house in a nearby village. 

So we packed up and moved house!

The house is great and the garden is enormous. It needs an equally enormous amount of work, but that is going to be a project of many years

September was particularly dreadful for all sorts of reasons, and I realised that I needed to make some significant changes in my life. Those decisions have not been easy, not all the repercussions have been comfortable to live with, but for the first time in many years I feel as though a weight has been lifted, there is no longer the Sunday evening dread, and I'm free to choose not to work if I'm feeling exhausted.  

In October I ran a little ultra- a 50km loop not too far from where I live. It was just lovely! I felt good most of the way round, met a couple of runners who kept me to an honest pace as I was tiring. At the finish I was given a little certificate- first in my age group!

Running in the autumn sunshine in the Chiltern Hills

Over the winter various plans for a change of workplace/career didn't come to fruition for all sorts of reasons.

January 2024 saw some big changes. I have several jobs that more or less seem to fit together, all still in education but no longer as a TA stuck in a school. It's tough at times, there are days when the pay really doesn't reflect just how hard I've had to work. My brain is being used again, I'm learning so much, and I'm meeting some really amazing people. I hadn't realised just how bad boredom and stagnation was for me- although I'm now very busy I don't feel drained, wrung out and a shell of myself. 

I did another loopy loop event and came 2nd in the marafun distance. I'd wanted to do another loop but the mud was so awful I could barely stay upright and it wasn't worth risking a fall and potential injury.

Medal and T-shirt from the Running Tribe event

February the lovely DWP are trying to throw a spanner in the works telling me I'm not working enough- but I'd say 4-6 days a week is a decent amount of work. We'll have to see how that all turns out...

Knitting

I completed a temperature blanket last year. It turned out a bit untidy but it was fun to make and I'm making another this year but for for a friend. Lessons from last year's attempt have been learned and taken into consideration this time round, and I think will result in a fabulous finished article.

The finished temperature blanket with Salvatore the Octopus and Hug Me the Dinosaur

Running

It's been tough getting back to regular running. Both the races last year were off the back of very little mileage. It seemed to work well enough but longer-term I'm worried whether I'll be able to keep running ultras off 20-30 miles a week. This year I signed up to the Centurion Running virtual slam again, aiming to complete the 500 mile distance. It's just not going to happen. Things started off fine as it was the Christmas break and there was much less going on, but I just can't keep up with the mileage. Not just because of having less time but because trying to hit 50 miles every week on top of work is making me so tired. 

Post-menopause I am definitely noticing that I can't do the volume of training that I did even 2 years ago. I am getting more tired and recovery takes longer. So I've found myself a coach as, since what used to work for me doesn't any more, I need to train smarter. but I can't figure out what to do by myself.  My coach is not a runner but that's great because he's not going to try and make me do running stuff that doesn't work for me. We're doing lots of hard but (mostly) fun stuff to prepare my body for a challenge that will probably leave me broken. I'm not thinking too much about the challenge- I want to enjoy the journey of being ready to stand on the start line.

So it's a year of new beginnings in so many ways. I don't anticipate it being a smooth ride, but let's just see what this year has in store...

Adapting to survive

 It's been a strange couple of months with so much going on. Work has been crazy, and some of this has contributed to the overwhelming pressure in my role as a rep and activist. It's been a tough time for my children which means it's been tough for me as a mum too. My own mother is in what looks like the last weeks of terminal cancer. There have been countless emergency hospital admissions because her pain hasn't been properly managed, acute breathing difficulties because of her illness, and I feel guilty because I haven't visited as much as I should. Fatigue and the expectation of a house-move mean I've been reluctant to make the long drive (covid has had a significant impact on my ability to drive long distances). We were invited to see the house in early June and told maybe a month or two but at time of writing we STILL have no date. Life feels on hold and every day is punctuated with frequent email checks to see if the date has come through. And it's also been really challenging to manage my health and fitness.

I reduced my hours at work to help me cope with fatigue and some of the difficulties within my family circle. It was a bit of a fight to get what I wanted, but I couldn't continue with being so exhausted from work that I could barely cook dinner or have a conversation with my children, and needing to be in bed at 8pm. As it is I still find I need to sleep during the day at weekends but, day to day, I feel like I'm able to manage things better. It is tough being on the rollercoaster of a good day or two (or even three) but then the next day feeling exhausted, achey and mentally struggling to focus or be motivated. That rollercoaster is tiring in itself but I'm trying to accept it with grace and just be more gentle to myself on the rubbish days.

Training (which is an optimistic term really) has needed a rethink as I simply can't do what I did pre-covid and there's no point in trying to get back to that. I'm just about through menopause now and that could also be contributing to what my body can cope with, but despite fatigue, more muscle soreness and some joint pain, I don't see why I should stop moving and give up any hope of being able to race again one day. Anyway, what's the point of resting and 'saving' my energy? What would I be saving it for?

So, I bought a copy of Stacy Sim's latest book, Next Level, and had a good read through her advice on training and looked at some of her real life examples of how women at my point in life are using her principles to find a healthy balance between training so they can still compete or continue with sports they love, and managing the fatigue and other challenges of menopause. I can't afford to buy all the supplements but I can adjust how and when I train and return to being more mindful of my diet. It's so easy to end up not eating enough nutrient dense food when you're physically and mentally exhausted so much of the time, and that of course just reinforces the feeling crap.

Training now happens on 4 days a week, but 3 if I'm really struggling and 5 if I feel good. I prioritise strength work over running and would rather do 3 strength sessions and 2 short runs if time and/or energy are limited. I do still aim for 'double days' where I strength train and run as although that's challenging it does allow me to take complete rest days where, other than work and the usual household chores, I don't do any exercise and can stay in bed longer. The strength work is hampered by this strange arm/shoulder problem that appeared at the end of last year. It's better than it was but I'm still lacking mobility and stability in that area which is really frustrating. I lift as heavy as I feel I safely can at home, which is probably not heavy enough, but I have to work from where I am and with what I've got. 

The new thing I've added into the training mix is regular plyometric work. At the end of a strength session I do 3 or 4 plyometric exercises as a mini circuit. I hate it because it's so hard and I can't manage the recommended 40 seconds on 20 seconds rest, but even the little I can do is having an impact. Whether or not I'll be able to get round a 50 miler in September remains to be seen. It's a race I've wanted to do for several years and I have been looking forward to it so much, but honestly I'm not sure if it's manageable. 

I have dared to think about next year and have a couple of things planned that will really challenge me. Both scare me a lot, but one (if it goes well) will, I hope, bring some healing with it. Of course I might not be back to full fitness to even consider attempting either, but both are things to give me some focus for my training. All I can do is train to the best of my ability and, as long as I believe I'm safe to attempt these challenges, be on the start line trusting in my preparation.

On a less serious note, I've been knitting and made a few gifts. Here is one for a colleague who left at the end of term:

I used some gorgeous cotton yarn by Sirdar. The colours haven't come out quite right in the photo, but they are such happy colours! I sewed the hearts onto an embroidery hoop and made a hanging loop out of ric-rac. The garland will take pride of place in my colleague's new class room.

And we have three new hens! Willow died three weeks ago. She went downhill very quickly and it was so sad to see her like that. But we were already on the list to rehome some ex-battery farm hens so it was always the plan to add to the flock. We'd hoped Willow would be there to show the new hens how to do all the chickeny things they'd never experienced before but actually they have adapted to their new life really well and already look healthier. Here they are:

From left, clockwise: Serenity, Andromeda and Moya. Serenity loves naps and will even allow us to stroke her. Andromeda is the top hen and very pecky, but also the jumpiest and most easily startled.  Moya is fascinated by the chicken in the camera.

No big exciting stuff, but I'm focusing on the joys of the small, everyday things and trying to find things I can rely on: maths, physics and knitting. 

Towards the light

 Last post I had just started training regularly again. I'm now three weeks in so the good news is that I've been able to keep going. It's proving really tough though and I've had to accept that for now at least, I have to do less than I want.

I'm more sore and tired than I remember being in the past, and recovery is slower. In theory I should be finding things easier because of all the disruption from bank holidays and strikes, but those days haven't been particularly restful. Planning and organising trade union members and picket lines is hard work and requires a big emotional investment too, although I don't begrudge any of my time and efforts for that cause. 

Since covid, my appetite has been weird and I'm often struggling to eat enough. I was used to eating three meals and one or two snacks but at the moment meals are tricky as I seldom feel hungry enough, but going for the little and often approach makes it hard to eat the right things for health and recovery. I know if I don't get enough calories then I won't be able to rebuild muscle and see the benefits of my training. Hopefully once I feel more settled with training this will kickstart my desire to eat properly again. 

In terms of possible Long Covid, nothing can happen until 3 months post-infection. I don't even know if that is what's underneath it all. Compared to many others, what I'm experiencing is very mild- after all I'm able to run a bit and lift a bit. But my brain isn't working properly and most days I'm in bed very early because I just don't have the energy to keep going. I think that a large factor is also all the stuff going on in my head. That amount of emotional hurt and turmoil and all the various things going on in my life are going to take their toll physically and mentally; many of the symptoms I'm dealing with could easily be a physical manifestation of the stuff in my head. Or maybe I'm just wearing out and getting old- maybe my body just can't take all the crap any more.

On top of this, my mum's health has taken another big dip and so the long drives to my parents have resumed as my dad needs some respite. I'm not sure how we're going to manage things as the days and weeks go on- I have so many responsibilities pulling me in too many different directions but doing only what I feel like isn't an option. Something interesting that I noticed on my last visit is that despite the hilly terrain, when I run there it feels good. It feels easy, almost effortless. Is it the clean air? Is it the fact that there are no memories in those lanes and fields? The hedgerows are filled only with beauty- there are no ghosts or whispers of past conversations. 

Grief comes in waves and sometimes the waters are relatively calm. Other days the storms mean I can't keep my head above water. But at last I've properly owned up to that- said it out loud to someone who matters to me and that has helped. They understand even if it's not easy for them. It's this chink of light that is keeping me going. The little glimmer that someone cares enough to stand with me, that there is still a life to be lived.

One step forward, two steps back

 

After several false starts, this is my first week of trying to actually train again. I've settled on a similar pattern to when I was training for Copthorne as it's what fits best around life although it does mean two or three double days of a run and strength work. I'm shattered already, but can't tell if that's because of post-covid fatigue or whether it's that normal shock to the system you get when you start structured training again after a break. I guess I'll have to see how things go and adjust what I do as needed. But three days this week I've had to go to bed before 8.30pm because I've been so horrendously tired.

A tendinopathy in my right arm has been making it really hard getting back to strength training but at long last (4 months and counting) it has eased enough to make some lifting possible although using a full range of movement in my shoulder is painful still. I've missed lifting as much as I have missed running- feeling strong has become so important to me- and in my first runs post-covid I couldn't even run with good form because of the muscle wastage. But I've returned to the exercises I did to get strong for my first Autumn 100 and although they are making me sore and feel much, much harder than I think they should, they will get me back on track eventually.

There's a LOT of life stuff happening too, much of which is not for here. But I am still very much struggling with the grieving process over the not-fella. I inadvertently stumbled on something the other day that has really knocked me back. It's not something I wanted to hear and certainly not the manner in which I'd like to have found out. Copthorne gave me the illusion of coping better than I was. In fact, I didn't need to cope when I was training for that race because it took over my life and emotional stuff just got shoved to one side as there was no time or energy spare. But when you do that, it always comes back at you- stuff needs processing and resolving before it will sit relatively peacefully in a corner of your brain and heart.

I remember reading something, an irunfar article I think, about the dangers of 'running from' and I think I've written about it too. Running can be a much needed source of respite, but it's not healthy to use it to escape things that need acknowledging. My local trails will always be full of ghosts, so many spots where I can recall specific conversations we had as we ran past, where I remember a smile or the particular rhythm of feet. Some days I can run with those ghosts and that is better than a year ago, but other days the sense of loss is still so strong that I have to stop, try to breathe, calm the horrible knots in my stomach. Sometimes the physical response to loss still overwhelms me. But at least by acknowledging it, learning to run and live with it rather than trying to erase it all, there's the chance of healing.

Amongst all of this I am trying to embrace life, to welcome new opportunities, the chance to feel loved and alive. I'm pretty bad at it so far, every step I take towards the light it feels like two steps back again and I am so tired of the struggle to keep going.  But I've never been one to quit even when every fibre of me is screaming for it all to stop. 

Anyway, we might be moving house soon. And I can't quit when, hopefully, we're about to have a house where no one can tell us to leave, and I'm finally about to get a room of my own.

A brief update

 It's been quite a while since I wrote. I never really got back into regular training after Copthorne, then Covid-19 finally got me. My symptoms weren't really serious- a razor sharp sore throat for a few days, muscles aches, a bit of a cough and deep tiredness, but it went on for 12 days and also took that long to get a negative test. I'm still not right. It's left me with some cardiac symptoms, headaches and weird fatigue.   Right now I don't know if it's safe for me to run or lift.

This isn't a great place to be and it's going to take me a while to figure out how to manage. Bear with me.

Onwards

 

The fact that it's just over a month since the Copthorne and I haven't written a follow-up post until now is probably all you need to know about recovery. The last four weeks of term were very busy and stressful, and basically I had no time to recover. It took until Christmas Day for the physical side of things to really hit, although other than a couple of persistent niggles, recovery seemed to be going well.

Mentally, recovery is proving to be a very strange and unsettling process, but more of that in a bit.

Here's what I can recall of the immediate post-race period:

Straight after the race was just odd. As I said in the race blog, I felt nothing. It also felt odd to stop moving forward. I didn't expect to want to eat and true to post-race form I couldn't face any food, just cups of tea. I remember Alan being delighted to give me the second place trophy and then waiting anxiously to see if the only other woman out on the course would finish before the cut-off. But much of it is very hazy. Lisa was a hero and removed my socks and tried to clean my feet up. I can't remember anything else really except at one point I wanted to get off the chair, and as I stood up black spots appeared, my head felt hot and huge waves of nausea washed over me. I said to Mike that I was going to pass out, some people caught me and helped me lie down. Then I was lying in an emergency cot, Lindley took my temperature and checked my blood sugar. I think I was a bit cold. 

It took quite some time before I was able to be upright without feeling extremely wobbly and faint. Did my legs and feet hurt? Honestly I can't remember other than not being able to put shoes on because my big toes were such a mess. The short drive back to Mike's once the race was all over and everything packed up was really uncomfortable- sitting was just about the last thing my body wanted to be doing! Once back at his, I was ok getting up and down the stairs although I still had to take the sideways approach to going down them.

The week after:

I was content to do no exercise at all, and in any case I was too busy. It was good, if a little strange, to be able to stay in bed until 6am. Not having to train in the evenings made the end of the day feel less frantic too which was just as well as I was often on taxi duty for one or both of my teens. My appetite was off, but I've learned to just go with it; eat what and when my body says to, and not to worry about it. However, I'd planned to continue with recovery protein drinks to aid healing if I wasn't eating much but completely forgot to do this.

By the following weekend I was mentally very much ready to start back training. My body had other ideas though so I just tried to move a bit each day for 20-30 minutes and if anything hurt or felt uncomfortable than it was time to stop or back off. A bit of rowing, a bit of yoga- I tried running but the knee pain returned. I tried lifting too but it's taken until now for picking up heavy things to feel ok.

The brain side of it all:

Possibly the hardest thing has been the mental side of recovery. I've continued to feel literally nothing about finishing that race and that is actually really upsetting. Why can't I feel good about what I achieved? Why do I have no desire to celebrate the completion of a year-long project? Why do I still feel completely numb about the whole thing? In fact I've been going over the race reflecting on what I want to do better next time, because it hasn't take that long for me to know that I need to go back and make a better go of it. But that won't be in 2023- I need to do some different things in the coming year and work with some shorter-term goals.

I think that the focus of training for Copthorne was really important for me all year. It gave me purpose; it meant I had to not just train well but actively take time to look after myself both in terms of nutrition and rest; it gave me a reason to wake up each day. The huge mental effort of training day after day, month after month kept a great deal of sadness at bay, or perhaps it's more accurate to say that I was able to pour all that pain into my training and put it to good use. When I was a musician, my best creative work was born out of dreadful bleakness, hurt and despair so it's not so ridiculous to say that this time it fuelled and inspired my training.

Something from the race is haunting me but I can't seem to put it into words. There was something about those last few loops of the Copthorne... Being utterly consumed by physical and mental pain in those last 20 or 30 miles, feeling so completely alone, overwhelmed and annihilated by the process... Honestly I don't know how to begin to describe it. Enduring that nightmare for those hours has changed me somehow, or at least left an indelible mark. I can't say that I am stronger or better for it, just, well, different. I think it's really hard not being able to describe what I mean because it makes me feel so isolated and I want so badly to share the experience with you. Perhaps it's this inability to articulate the experience that is the reason for feeling numb. 

The future:

To try to regain some feeling of control I've set myself a goal of training for a road marathon in the first half of the coming year. I've put a 10k trail time trial in the diary in January (possibly to repeat a month later), and then a 50k in March (which will mess up the training a bit but it's really just planned as a fun day out) and actually have a 4 month training plan to follow. This is all rather out of my comfort zone but doing something different feels like the right thing to do. Training to run faster might prove to be too much but it doesn't matter if it is. Shifting focus for a few months onto intensity and quality rather than volume should bring both short and longer-term gains even if I end up having to bail out of the marafun.

I guess you'll just have to watch this space to see...