Christmas miles part 2: end of a year

Last week I did a lot of walking. 36 miles in 4 days. It was good to be moving slowly and take in more of my surroundings and it felt nice to just walk with no purpose. I went out each time with my rucksack (an OMM Ultra 12 which I love for hiking but can't get on with in races) and a snack, drink, extra layer and binoculars. A couple of times I took sticks too as it's easy to get out of practise using them and end up with pretty sore shoulders after a race. My next race is in less than 4 weeks and it is a fairly flat route so I think it'll be another one to 'jeff' but with sticks this time. Hopefully all the walking last week will stand me in good stead.

Yesterday it was back to training. A first attempt at 800m reps followed by a strength workout. I didn't get the effort right on the intervals- to begin with I don't think I pushed hard enough and it was only the last 2 that felt about right. But interval training on the road is tricky: it's harder to gauge distance and therefore pace yourself correctly and there are numerous hazards that impact on both speed and effort: it's not flat, there are roads to cross, horse poo and litter to dodge... My running club has a track session once a week but it's at an inconvenient time for me and I don't really want to do someone else's workout. These days I have to listen to what feels right for me.

Strength work is easier although again I could probably push a lot harder than I do. But training at home with minimal equipment (and no dedicated space to train in) means the priority is to stay safe. With my crumbly spine, trying to lift properly heavy is something I shouldn't do unsupervised and unfortunately I don't have a PT to train with. Maybe one day I will be able to rejoin a gym and get to train with someone.

2019 has been a truly awful year. I don't hold out hope of the next one being better because I no longer believe things will improve. I'm worse off than when I was unemployed and newly divorced 10 years ago. A combination of heartbreak and the rapid onset of the loopy hormones has left me fragile and no longer sure of who I am. Hopes and dreams have been well and truly shattered.

But I will keep on moving...

...keep baking...

...keep stitching...

... and keep blogging.

And maybe I will try running 100 miles again. I have unfinished business with that distance.

Christmas Miles part 1

Christmas miles started with the Portsmouth Coastal 50k Ultra on Sunday. Not being what I would call race fit I decided I would jeff it- 10 minutes running then 2 minutes walking- for at least the first 20 miles, and as long as I got round without breaking then it would be a good outcome. It's a good race to jeff as it's pretty much flat and about 50% of the terrain is quite smooth making power walking relatively easy.

It's a while since I properly jeffed anything and it was dispiriting after the first 10 minutes to be overtaken by the majority of the runners as I hit the walk break. But I stuck to it and found that after a while I was easily making up the distance I 'lost' each time I walked. The walk breaks weren't rigidly 2 minutes each time- I often started jogging with about 30 seconds left and once, towards the end as I left a CP, I got mixed up what I should have been doing and walked when it should have been running. A costly mistake as it turns out...

Anyway, the race was nice although I was pretty much on my own all the way round. My fuelling strategy wasn't very sensible- mostly shots of mulled wine- and almost none of the CPs had any savoury snacks so I managed on a bit of chocolate, some Jaffa Cakes (which I hate) and a few tortilla chips. I kept putting off the moment to stop jeffing;  I felt not too bad most of the race although the mile or so along the beach at Hayling Island to the turnaround really sapped my energy and was probably the low point for me. But mentally I really lacked belief and strength: I doubted my ability to finish and didn't trust my body to stay strong, so I kept saying to myself from about 20 miles 'just one more walk break then I'll run in'. I didn't keep running until probably 3  or 4 miles left and even then didn't push it because I kept expecting to blow up.

I sort of missed the finish line- I couldn't see where it was so didn't really pick up the pace for the last bit- and then it took me probably half a minute to stop my watch once I'd finished! I didn't even look at my finish time. But the not-fella (who'd also run the race) was at the finish and said "If you'd gone 23 seconds quicker you'd have finished in the top 10 and come in under 5 hours". I was pleased- astonished- at first as I'd never had any goal other than to finish and as it turned out I got myself a 50k PB of 5hrs 22 seconds. But then disappointment and the 'if onlys' set in. It shouldn't make any difference where I placed, especially as I was just aiming to complete not compete. But it really did take the edge off what is a pretty decent achievement particularly given how this year has gone in terms of health, impact repeated illness has had on training, and all the heartbreak. And when you think about it, I must have walked something around 45 minutes of that race but still finished 2nd in my age category, 11th female and 99th out of 277 finishers.

The race went far better than I thought it would but it shows I have a lot of work to do. I need to get back to a level of fitness that will make it easier for my mind to trust my body, and somehow I need to build mental resilience. This will be hard when events of this year have undermined my (often fragile) confidence, left me without love and emotional stability, and have made me question my identity and worth as a person, but somehow I need to find a way.

Every day is watered with tears and every day my heart aches. I am too old and too hurt to reinvent myself yet again but perhaps I can find a new strength and purpose in running.

Merry Christmas and may your feet enjoy many happy miles

A camera up my nose

A little update for anyone who follows this blog.

Today was hospital day. I was unexpectedly subjected to one of those examinations with a camera on a bendy stick. It'll be fine they said, the nasal cavity is really quite big. We can take a look at the back of that nasty tonsil and tell you if there's anything to be concerned about.

4 attempts by the registrar to shove a camera up my nose and down my throat, and a lot of tears and whimpering from me later...

There doesn't seem to be anything cancerous going on. So that's good. But it's back to square one in terms of having no answers as to why I keep getting ill and why I'm experiencing horrendous fatigue.

It was a truly horrid experience- it turns out I don't have a big nasal cavity and it would have been better if they'd had the paediatric nasal camera to use. My nose and face still hurt somewhat, 10 hours later. If you ever have to go to ENT with the chance of needing a nose camera then please 1) take a friend with you and 2) take a dose of painkillers before you go.

The state of the NHS is such that funding for things like tonsillectomies is very limited. This means that you have to tick quite a lot of boxes before you can even be referred for the consideration of such an operation. Because it has been almost impossible to see a doctor each time I've had a throat infection this year, and when I have been able to see any kind of healthcare person they have 5/7 time refused to prescribe antibiotics (it'll get better eventually on its own), it means that despite 7 episodes of throat infections I do not tick a single box. Not that I want a tonsillectomy; in adults it's an horrendous procedure and results in at least 2 weeks off work plus dreadful pain. But from now on every time I get a bad throat I have to somehow get seen by a doctor to ensure it's properly assessed and documented because if the coming year is as bad then getting my tonsils taken out is probably something that ought to happen.

Fun times.

Slipping and Sliding

I've wanted to write for a while but have been struggling to find the words. Trying to be honest but not let a public blog become too personal is not an easy line to tread. But this is not the only line I'm finding it hard to stay on the right side of. I am back training regularly but having to take things very carefully since these days it's proving hard to work on my fitness whilst not taxing my immune system. So often it feels as though I'm on the verge of yet another tonsil infection, and added to that  the mid-life hormones plus a perfect storm of life-stresses is making me extremely tired.

I've had all my bloods done and it's all come back within normal ranges. Next week I have an urgent appointment with the ENT consultant because the recurring infections are a concern. I also have a permanently enlarged tonsil and few lumpy bits in my neck. There's the small possibility of a cancer but my GP has referred me more to have the consultant confirm his opinion that it's not cancer than because he's very concerned it might be the big C. It still feels like a huge weight on my shoulders and although life has been utterly miserable and I'm desolate, I'm really not ready to have a life-limiting diagnosis: my kids need me to be around for another 5 years at least until they are both adults and able to fend for themselves.

Training is going ok, although I'm only in my 2nd week of consistent work since CTS Gower last month. I've decided to keep proper running to 3 or 4 times a week, and not on consecutive days and to do two strength sessions a week, both on days when I run so that the days off are properly that. It's not easy fitting in double days as it were but I think it's the best way to manage things for now at least. The week's long 'run' is more of a hike with bits of running. Last Sunday I managed about 15 miles and because I'd hiked most of the first 8 miles I was able to jog most of the way back along the canal. Days off I try to get a 3-4 mile walk done but that's not always possible. It's too early to say if this new approach to training is working or if it's the right way to be going about things, but I have to start somewhere and give it a few weeks before reviewing the situation.

The strength work I'm doing is the stuff I was doing when training for the A100 last year. It worked well for me then as I felt fitter and stronger than ever at the start of that race and I'm hoping that if I can maintain consistency it will do the same for me again. For now there's no aim of trying to increase weight or reps- I want to regain my fitness levels first then carefully and slowly improve. Whilst the battle to keep what little figure I've ever had is probably one I'll lose due to the loopy hormones, a soft and saggy tummy doesn't have to mean I can't aim to run a 45 minute 10k again. The hormones will do what they do and no one but me will care what I look like anyway.

Life itself is desolate. There is a gaping hole that was once filled with love. Running gives me little pleasure but I'm doing it because I have to do something and anyway my bones need to run in order to slow down their crumbling. As for Christmas, I'm dreading it. I'm not a Christmassy person really and although I'm used to being on my own during that week it can still be lonely and bleak. This year it will be all the more so. I had made plans for a 2 day hike and wild camp but given the current state of my immune system that's probably not a great idea.

A plan B is needed but I've no idea what that will be yet.

Sand, Sea and Stress

Last weekend I went and did a race in Wales. It was one of the Endurance Life Coastal Trail series in Wales on the Gower peninsula. Stunning weather driving down on the Friday, lovely weather driving back on the Sunday. Race day itself was not so good and conditions underfoot were horrendous. Sand is never easy running but the mud was apocalyptic- I have never been in such conditions before. However, the views were beautiful and for a short while the sun did come out.

It was always going to be a 'just a day out' kind of race, and given the appalling weather from the start I'd decided that if I really wasn't having fun I'd stop at the marathon distance and call it a day. I actually wasn't having fun by then but had forgotten I'd said that to myself so did the whole 34.5 miles anyway! The last loop was mostly pretty pointless though as it included a loop within the loop and a miserable plod along the beach to the finish- one of those stretches where you can see the finish but it just doesn't get any nearer.

From the start location looking round to the final loop of the ultra

I had a vague notion of wanting to get round in about 7 hours but once the mud got going I knew that was out of the question. And anyway that left hip flexor/quad tendons gave up on me again. It didn't get as bad as at A100 but it did get bothersome and after attempting to run into the finish along the beach I just gave up and walked it in.

The route was mostly super- but the '10k' loop (make that more like 7 miles) added at the end to make up the ultra was mostly pretty unimaginative and pointless. I got a bit sweary as my mood dropped especially when we were directed to do the mini loop within that loop. A couple guys running near me were a bit surprised to hear a small, quiet woman start shouting expletives. Anyone who's run in races with me will know I do have a potty mouth during a race, either because I'm over-excited or I'm really, really pissed off with it all.

I did smile a bit though!

Anyway, I've got ill yet again since the race. Another (probable) virus affecting the same tonsil but this time with more widespread inflammation (neck, ear), more pain and a lot more general fatigue. Eventually got to see a healthcare person today and they said 99% likely a virus, more than likely because what with everything that's been going on* I'm completely run down and that ideally I should be doing some complete rest. No training or anything until I'm all better. I don't really know how to stop being so run down- unless there's a sudden and dramatic upturn in my circumstances nothing is going to change- but I'm 5 weeks into a 6 week wait to see my GP so I think rather than using the appointment to discuss what next with loopy hormones it will have to be figuring out what's going on with my immune system and what if anything can be done to help me stay healthy. Being ill and missing work and therefore not being paid is simply an additional stress so resting up at home whilst losing money isn't actually very restful.

* there's been a lot

I will take this time to think hard about running in particular, training in general, and how to get the right balance with work, training, life and diet. My weight has been fluctuating more than is healthy this year (mostly losing weight and not quite gaining it all back before losing more) and although I know a lot about nutrition it's been incredibly hard following a properly nutritious diet because of lack of money, time, being poorly so much, not being home at meal times. 

Somehow there has to be a way out the mess I'm in, but I sure as heck can't see it right now.

Baking, Making and Running

I've been baking quite a bit recently in an attempt to make the time pass and because the children like cake. So far I have tried a few new recipes, tinkered with others and had a few disasters. I like baking but it's an expensive habit.

As far as making goes it's been of the knitting sort of making. Specifically, blankets in super chunky yarns. I can't sit still for long and get impatient so this suits me well. The thick yarn knits up quickly and easily and blankets don't require too much concentration. The only thing is the yarn I'm using at the moment is all colours that are very much those of the not-fella and this is making me sad.

Running is happening as is strength training. Neither give me any joy. Nothing is if I'm honest- I feel numb and as though all the colours have gone and my senses are operating on 1% power. But I know that exercising is important especially as the loopy midlife hormones are becoming increasingly loopy and exerting an ever more visible effect on my body and mind. So probably 6 out of 7 days I run and/or power walk (trying to get back in the habit of early morning sessions too) and 3-4 days a week do some strength or core work. It's made my appetite return which is good, but I'm not even enjoying eating.

There has been a lot of what a friend calls 'toxic positivity'. Being told that if I think happy things then good things will happen, that all this bad shit has happened because I'm so negative, that I should get out there and make changes, that there are plenty of other guys out there etc. ad nauseam.

Firstly it's not easy being happy when you're heartbroken, when you're trying to come to terms with the fact that maybe you really are a nightmare and impossible and that no one could ever think you're worth really loving. It hits particularly hard when you're older and already bruised and scarred, and know time is short. It's also not easy to be happy when dealing with the circumstances I've been in for the last 10 years. Circumstances that came about precisely because I took a leap of faith and tried to change things for the better. Something I did this year too, which has resulted only in even less security and rather more stress.

Secondly, when you are in such circumstances and for so long it really does get you down. The tunnel gets longer and darker and you don't see any end to it; maybe it doesn't end.

Thirdly, I don't care about other guys out there.

So for now I'm going through the motions. Run, lift, knit, stitch, bake, work. None of it really matters. Perhaps one day I will run and feel at peace again.

Knots and tangles

At the weekend it came into my head that perhaps I don't want to run any more. I don't mean race- the last couple of years I haven't done many races- I mean I'm not sure if I ever want to run again.

It's complicated and I don't know if I can untangle this particular knot.

Firstly, I realise it is still very soon after the A100 disaster and whether I am conscious of it or not it is likely still influencing my thoughts and feelings. But I also know that what happened out on the Ridgeway that night isn't the root of it. It was horrible hurting that much, no head-torch, moving at less than a shuffle, and I wonder if I had been in a better place leading up to the race whether I could have dealt with all that and got myself to a finish. But I'll never know so there's not much point in wondering. However, the act of quitting really hurts. I'm not a quitter.

But I quit my job at Easter without anything else lined up. I had got to a point where it simply made me miserable and I couldn't see a way to carry on. It was possibly a stupid thing to do and everything has been a monumental struggle since then, but people say if you don't like where you are then change it and that's what I did. Except it hasn't worked.

In my training this year I've not put in the focus or commitment that I have in previous years. Early morning long runs haven't happened- I've just not wanted to get out of bed.  In fact I haven't really done any kind of long runs at all. It's all felt like too much and I just gave up on trying to get the training done.

So maybe this year I've turned into a quitter.

And then the other stuff. I don't know if there are any ultra-runners reading this who are also perimenopausal. I cannot explain how big an impact those loopy hormones seem to be having on everything. It is akin to what it's like dealing with those early teen hormones except that you have to do all the adult stuff and people just expect you to cope. They could be responsible for training feeling like it's too much, for feeling so anxious about stuff, for struggling to cope with simple day to day things. But then again I don't know how much is hormonal or whether I'm simply trying to find excuses. I know I haven't feel like me for quite some time but it's been a very difficult year and up to a point there's been residual fatigue from last year's 100 miler too, so unpicking what is causing what seems impossible.

Whatever the cause, me not quite being me anymore has contributed the most painful breakup. And that's a big thing feeding into the not wanting to run any more. I was running before we met but all the trails I run are too full of my not-fella and I simply can't bear it. There's no joy in them any more and stumbling around through the mud half-blinded by tears is a pretty stupid way to spend my time. (As a side note it's worth mentioning that a lone woman, wandering about sobbing, attracts precisely zero attention from passing walkers. I am an expert in creating a S.E.P. Field.) Finding new trails means getting in the car in order to run and that's not practical.

So the act of running is making me miserable. My heart isn't in it.

My heart isn't in anything.