"In the hospital it is as quiet as a tomb. The nurse fights to find a vein in my right arm. We give up after five attempts. Would you faint if someone stuck a needle into your arm? I've got used to it - but I still shut my eyes.
The Gautama Buddha instructs me to walk away from illness. But he wasn't attached to a drip.
The drip stings
A lump swells up in my arm
Out comes the drip
An electric shock sparks up my arm
How can I walk away with a drip attached to me?
How am I going to walk away from this?"
Derek Jarman- Blue
Please be warned that this may be a brain dump type post..........
The above excerpt is from `Derek Jarmans fantastic work "Blue"
http://www.queerculturalcenter.org/Pages/Jarman/JarmanBlue.html
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3RoasUMmV9Y
I woke up with the lines "walk away from illness" on a loop in my head this morning after a particularly difficult appointment with my Crohns consultant yesterday. I studied Blue in depth many years ago when I was at performing arts college, and his lines about the waiting room always whirl around my head at every appointment
Here I am again in the waiting room. Hell on Earth is a waiting room. Here you know you are not in control of yourself, waiting for your name to be called: "712213". Here you have no name, confidentiality is nameless. Where is 666? Am I sitting opposite him/her?
Now obviously I would never be as crass as to compare my experiences of Crohns with Derek Jarmans terminal illness and ultimate death but there is a definite familiarity of the medical roundabout you find yourself on.
Since I was diagnosed in 2010 I have been on many different medications- sometimes the side effects are worse than the illness they are supposed to be helping. I started on steroids that made me a bit ragey and buggered my immune system. I then moved on to methotrexate which made my hair fall out and made me vomit. and vomit. and sleep. and have headaches.Then made me so depressed I ended up on meds for that. I then had 18 months of wonderful remission with no Crohns symptoms at all. Then it came back. I then went on Azathioprine which made me feel like I was having a stroke and gave me such a bad chest infection I ended up in A&E at 3am unable to stop coughing. I then went back onto methotrexate, but this time injections which apparently have less of a vomitty effect. But yay! I kept the headaches and the lunacy. So I came off that.
Im March this year I went to see my consultant in a major flare. He told me there and then I had a choice of Humira injections or Infliximab infusions- sort of chemo-esque delivered by a drip once a week. If I didn't choose I was to be admitted as an inpatient. I chose Humira- a medicine that is self injected once a fortnight after the loading doses given on a ward. When I went in for my second loading dose they had an extra gift for me while I was there: an iron infusion as I was by this point so anaemic the iron tablets weren't cutting it! SO a nice bag of iv iron it was- or the Guinness infusion as it looked so much like.
Ive now been on Humira for 7 months, which was fine until the seasons changed and I have had infection after infection after infection due to the immunosuppressant element. I have had tonsillitis, a chest infection, and cold upon cold upon cold. 2 weeks of mega antibiotics and have been unable during this time to take my Humira, so happy days! My Crohns has gone into full flare mode.
I went to see my consultant yesterday and was given two new medications- oh the excitement. Im back on steroids for a month and then he has given me a "bulking agent" to well, I'll leave you to figure what thats for...........
I am to leave off the Humira for another 3 weeks until I have cleared all these infections and then hopefully will be able to continue with it.
However there is an alternative...................Surgery.
It has been mentioned before by my consultant but this time it seems more of a choice than an eventual "one day" distant option. Now for the technical bit- My crohns is in my ileum- ileitis
http://www.ccfa.org/what-are-crohns-and-colitis/what-is-crohns-disease/types-of-crohns-disease.html
this means the surgery on offer would be an ileostomy
http://www.nhs.uk/conditions/ileostomy/Pages/Introduction.aspx
a huge thing for anyone to get their head round, albeit a temp ileostomy. They will take out the dodgy bit (12 cms in my case), give me a stoma for 6 months, and then reattach my innards with no inflammation. Surgery can work wonders- people can remain in remission for many many years after surgery, OR it can begin a game of cat and mouse where the inflammation moves along the intestine, requiring further surgeries.
What a great decision to have to make *sarcasm*
Yesterday I felt quite sorry for myself. I have a lot whirling round in my head- options, choices, decisions. Whilst dealing with the side effects of the various drugs and getting my head round the 20kg I have gained since diagnosis. On a positive note the consultant has suggested that I give up work for the forseeable. It is just not feasible to try and hold down a job when your toilet trips are in excess of 5 or 6 a day, and last on average 40 minutes. When the side effects of the drugs make you so ill, so tired, so grumpy. This is a good thing now I have got my head round the concept that I am not lazy and workshy, I am ill and need to look after me to be well enough to care for the family.
It also give me time to run, in the day. I tried it for the first time this morning- I dropped my daughter at school in my running kit armed with my garmin, my headphones and my playlist. And I ran. I ran just over 4km and I ran away from illness. Derek Jarman came with me in my head, walking away from illness. I thought of his drip as I ran with my three huge bruises on my inner arm from yesterdays blood tests. I thought of the poo sample I had to supply the hospital yesterday. Which poor bugger had to test that this morning! Id much rather be running than fiddling about with other peoples poo. Running won't cure my Crohns. Running won't change the side effects of the medication or my utter impotent rage I sometimes suffer at the unfairness of my diagnosis. But running helps to clear my head. I processed some of the info I'd been given. I thought about my options. I was thankful that I was running. I was thankful for the NHS. I was thankful for my husband and family. I was so so thankful for my husband and his unwavering support, his wonderful attitude toward my giving up work, thus leaving ALL the financial commitments to him.
Thank you running, for allowing me to revel in what my body CAN do, rather than bemoaning what it can't do, and focusing on the broken bits. I will run away from illness, me and Derek Jarman, as long as I can.
Thursday 12 November 2015
Monday 2 November 2015
The streak day 2
So it would appear that despite my better judgement I am Still Ill and after waking up (and STAYING UP) at 4am completely congested I dragged myself back to work for the first time in 2 weeks only to be sent promptly home by my manager. I promptly slept half the day on the sofa and was supposed to be going running with the Trundlers this evening but they all protested and said I shouldn't as Im still rough, and I DESPERATELY want and NEED to be better for the graduation of our first C25K ladies tomorrow eve. Anyway I was so determined to do my streak and not fail on day 2 that I got my running stuff on while it was just still light and treated myself to 1km. Up and down my garden LOL. Now luckily I have a large garden but I also have four amused children, 2 confused cats and no doubt some still sniggering neighbours.
The most interesting thing is just before I ventured out into the garden my son #1 (aged Nearly 12) said "You need to go and run in the street, Mum, not just the garden" "Why?" I asked him.
"Because when you go out and run you INSPIRE people. Thats what everyone always says when you post about running on Facebook, that you are an inspiration so you need to run out on the streets where people can see you"
I am absolutely gobsmacked. And ridiculously proud of my son for noticing what I do, and being so very supportive. And I'll tell you what. Im rather proud of me, too, for trotting up and down my garden, scaring my cats, slipping on manky apples, receiving a face full of cobwebs as I circled the rotary washing line for the 19th time and no doubt now having a street full of neighbours that finally have the proof they needed that I am, in fact, bonkers!
Sunday 1 November 2015
The crying tree
Lets start at the beginning. A few years ago my husband wanted to do Parkrun-he'd read about it and rather fancied it after he'd done a 10k or two. He persuaded me to go along as he knew I was keen to start running but was apprehensive. Actually it was a fair few years ago as I know I was still smoking and I'm about to celebrate 3 years smoke free! Anyway I digress:
I can remember not being overly keen on this Parkrun lark- I'd read the website and been assured they were very friendly and inclusive but still I was scared. So scared that I snivelled delicately behind my (huge, non running) sunglasses the whole way there. When we arrived I'd sort of imagined that there would be some sort of nice "newbie" section. You know, like in aerobics "any new people. any injuries? Welcome, lovely to meet you, lets bugger this running lark and have a cuppa" - you know, that total flight of fantasy that meant No Running With The Proper Runners. However we arrived dead on starting time and before I even realised I was there everyone (who were all dressed like proper runners) took off like shit off a shovel up a quite frankly humongous hill. Very quickly I realised that I was being overtaken quite swiftly by the kids, buggy pushers and dog runners, people who are usually related to the back of the pack. I tried to keep up (remember its a proper shitter of a hill) and suddenly a lady was beside me. "Are you ok? Im the back marker and we're quite far from the back" Me: "wheeze, gasp, hiccup, sob" I swear to God at this point some of the lycra clad men were fair bounding back DOWN the shitting hill, barely a sweat on their lycra leggings (which to be fair will ALWAYS look weird on men). At this point I informed the back marker lady that I "couldn't do it" and to "carry on without me" like a dying soldier in the trenches and I limped my way back to the tree where all the belongings were, to wait for my husband with my (huge) sunglasses firmly back over my (still leaking) eyes. From this moment forth it became known as "The Crying Tree"- a name that has since been adopted by some of my running friends that have helped me to conquer my fear of that dreaded Parkrun.
Anyway I was thinking about the crying tree today. I have been quite poorly lately- Tonsillitis, a lingering cold, two lots of antibiotics and a trip to the out of hours GP yesterday where I got diagnosed with costochondritis (inflammation of the cartilage between the ribs from coughing) and I am sick of being ill. I missed my planned run at Tyntesfield this morning but then I realised that a few of my C25K pals were going out to do a 28 minute run at lunchtime. I decided to join them. I decided that actually its a BEAUTIFUL day (17 degrees on Nov 1st) and I want to blow away some cobwebs and possibly some germs, especially as I return to work tomorrow after 2 weeks off *sob*
We started to run and it was hard- my calves were hurting, my nose is blocked and my chest definitely isn't 100%. After about 10 mins I was thinking of stopping- Doubting Delores popped into my head "You're poorly, You're tired, it won't MATTER if you stop and wait for the others to finish, they'll understand, you can just wait, or walk" etc etc. Then I thought: If I stop and they carry on I will be PISSED OFF. I won't be able to join in the post run selfie, I won't have the smug pants, I will feel CRAP. In fact, I would be firmly under the metaphorical crying tree. I don't want to go back to the crying tree. The crying tree lives firmly in my running past. There will be no more crying trees on my runs.
In fact I enjoyed it so much I have decided to do a running streak for November. Now don't worry, thats not streak as in nudey rudey streak, its a streak of a number of runs in a row- Im am doing 30 days (the whole of Nov) and the only stipulation is each run is at least 1km (so no running down drive in trainers and dressing gown pretending that counts before diving back into bed feeling falsely smug!) I will record it here so I can brain dump all the feelings I have during these 30 days. Hopefully there will be no crying trees involved...........
I can remember not being overly keen on this Parkrun lark- I'd read the website and been assured they were very friendly and inclusive but still I was scared. So scared that I snivelled delicately behind my (huge, non running) sunglasses the whole way there. When we arrived I'd sort of imagined that there would be some sort of nice "newbie" section. You know, like in aerobics "any new people. any injuries? Welcome, lovely to meet you, lets bugger this running lark and have a cuppa" - you know, that total flight of fantasy that meant No Running With The Proper Runners. However we arrived dead on starting time and before I even realised I was there everyone (who were all dressed like proper runners) took off like shit off a shovel up a quite frankly humongous hill. Very quickly I realised that I was being overtaken quite swiftly by the kids, buggy pushers and dog runners, people who are usually related to the back of the pack. I tried to keep up (remember its a proper shitter of a hill) and suddenly a lady was beside me. "Are you ok? Im the back marker and we're quite far from the back" Me: "wheeze, gasp, hiccup, sob" I swear to God at this point some of the lycra clad men were fair bounding back DOWN the shitting hill, barely a sweat on their lycra leggings (which to be fair will ALWAYS look weird on men). At this point I informed the back marker lady that I "couldn't do it" and to "carry on without me" like a dying soldier in the trenches and I limped my way back to the tree where all the belongings were, to wait for my husband with my (huge) sunglasses firmly back over my (still leaking) eyes. From this moment forth it became known as "The Crying Tree"- a name that has since been adopted by some of my running friends that have helped me to conquer my fear of that dreaded Parkrun.
Anyway I was thinking about the crying tree today. I have been quite poorly lately- Tonsillitis, a lingering cold, two lots of antibiotics and a trip to the out of hours GP yesterday where I got diagnosed with costochondritis (inflammation of the cartilage between the ribs from coughing) and I am sick of being ill. I missed my planned run at Tyntesfield this morning but then I realised that a few of my C25K pals were going out to do a 28 minute run at lunchtime. I decided to join them. I decided that actually its a BEAUTIFUL day (17 degrees on Nov 1st) and I want to blow away some cobwebs and possibly some germs, especially as I return to work tomorrow after 2 weeks off *sob*
We started to run and it was hard- my calves were hurting, my nose is blocked and my chest definitely isn't 100%. After about 10 mins I was thinking of stopping- Doubting Delores popped into my head "You're poorly, You're tired, it won't MATTER if you stop and wait for the others to finish, they'll understand, you can just wait, or walk" etc etc. Then I thought: If I stop and they carry on I will be PISSED OFF. I won't be able to join in the post run selfie, I won't have the smug pants, I will feel CRAP. In fact, I would be firmly under the metaphorical crying tree. I don't want to go back to the crying tree. The crying tree lives firmly in my running past. There will be no more crying trees on my runs.
In fact I enjoyed it so much I have decided to do a running streak for November. Now don't worry, thats not streak as in nudey rudey streak, its a streak of a number of runs in a row- Im am doing 30 days (the whole of Nov) and the only stipulation is each run is at least 1km (so no running down drive in trainers and dressing gown pretending that counts before diving back into bed feeling falsely smug!) I will record it here so I can brain dump all the feelings I have during these 30 days. Hopefully there will be no crying trees involved...........
Sunday 25 October 2015
Tyntesfield - healing for the soul via soggy soles
So I'm still battling away with being a Not Very Runny Runner at the moment. I have been hideously ill this last week and on mega antibiotics for tonsillitis (ouch) and some rather annoying business *whispers and points* "down below"......
This meant I couldn't coach this week and have literally been in bed. But this morning I got up and went to do week 6 of the Tyntesfield 5-10k course. I tried to talk myself out of it the whole way. I thought ah well If I go I'll just have a walk, at least Im out. I thought I have every excuse under the sun to not run this week- I haven't been that poorly in a long time and should be Looking After Myself.
So I did Look After Me. I looked after me by going and running. Up hills, down hills, in soggy grass, jumping over cow pats, climbing over gates, dodging cows, admiring the gorgeous scenery and taking deep life affirming lungfuls of air. Surrounded by a wonderful group of inspiring women- two of which had birthdays today!
We did just under 5km, 15 mins running, 1 minute walking, 15 minutes running. It was hard, it was soggy underfoot but my God it was fun.
I am so over feeling sorry for myself. My health isn't great and has been pretty lousy recently but I feel a lot better getting out and running as fast and as far as I can. On the drive home I drove over the suspension bridge and saw the glorious sight of the Bristol-Bath marathon in full swing. I was filled with pride and admiration for all those taking part and realised that my 5km this morning was as important as their 26.2 miles. Every step is as worth it as the next one, if you are an elite athlete or a mum trying to squeeze in some fitness.
We are all athletes.
This meant I couldn't coach this week and have literally been in bed. But this morning I got up and went to do week 6 of the Tyntesfield 5-10k course. I tried to talk myself out of it the whole way. I thought ah well If I go I'll just have a walk, at least Im out. I thought I have every excuse under the sun to not run this week- I haven't been that poorly in a long time and should be Looking After Myself.
So I did Look After Me. I looked after me by going and running. Up hills, down hills, in soggy grass, jumping over cow pats, climbing over gates, dodging cows, admiring the gorgeous scenery and taking deep life affirming lungfuls of air. Surrounded by a wonderful group of inspiring women- two of which had birthdays today!
We did just under 5km, 15 mins running, 1 minute walking, 15 minutes running. It was hard, it was soggy underfoot but my God it was fun.
I am so over feeling sorry for myself. My health isn't great and has been pretty lousy recently but I feel a lot better getting out and running as fast and as far as I can. On the drive home I drove over the suspension bridge and saw the glorious sight of the Bristol-Bath marathon in full swing. I was filled with pride and admiration for all those taking part and realised that my 5km this morning was as important as their 26.2 miles. Every step is as worth it as the next one, if you are an elite athlete or a mum trying to squeeze in some fitness.
We are all athletes.
Sunday 11 October 2015
A triumphant return?
Just look at that picture above. That is a group of women who got out of bed at stupid o clock on a Sunday morning to meet at Tyntesfield and run. Look at the sheer glee. Now these are busy mums, busy mums who have kids, families, jobs, houses, schedules that would make a busy bee weep. But on a Sunday morning, the historical day of lovely lie ins we get up and GO! I am currently doing a course with #Thismumruns
Why do we do it? Because it feels GREAT. It feels beyond amazing. When the alarm went off at 7am it didn't feel great. I was warm and cosy, I start work at 8am every day Monday to Friday and yesterday I took my daughter to London to look at a Uni so endured the sheer trauma of National Express, a whistlestop tour of the Big Smoke and then back on the National Express THAT THEN BROKE DOWN so we didn't get home until past 10 last night. I am TIRED. I am always tired. My next possible lie in is in 6 days time. But something makes me want to run.
I have had a crappy summer running wise- Ive just been looking at my stats from my Garmin and it all went pear shaped in July. I did 3 runs in June, 1 in July, 1 in August and that is tragic. Luckily it has looked up from September where I clocked up 6 runs and I am hoping October is going to shape up even better. I am trying to stop focusing on what I haven't done (e.g.: run at all in the summer!) and look forward to what I can do, am doing and will do.
Im glad I have resurrected this blog and hope to keep it up to record the highs and lows of my running journey. Further than the sofa, one step at a time........
Wednesday 29 July 2015
Mojo and muffin tops
Long time no post. So I previously sustained an injury and have been off the running bus for more than a month. Ive also been very busy in Real Life with changing jobs, adjusting to new hours working 5 days a week and of course, as a mum of 4 the summer holidays!
Ive also been thinking long and hard about the great weight debate. I am a bigger girl, I am also addicted to my scales and have been known to weigh myself when I get up for a wee at 4am. Yes, really..... so I have been looking at my body image, relationship with my weight, my body and the scales as a whole. I have a wonderful husband who is my rock. I suffer with Crohns Disease which is a fluctuating condition and very debilitating, so for all the nights I have danced till 3am I have other days I go to bed at literally 5pm. I know my husband loves me for more than the size off my bum but I often feel guilty that he has been lumbered with a fatty. My body has taken a battering due to the Crohns and the various medications I have to take. They also have an adverse effect on my weight and I have gained most of my weight in the last 3 years (conversely also since I gave up smoking) and my relationship with the scales have been getting increasingly dysfunctional.
SO I made a decision. I have removed the scales from the bathroom, they don't tell me my worth, they don't tell me how much I am loved by my family and friends, or how fit I am.
I have been going to the gym, doing circuits (with my husband) and my gym work out the PT set me. I have also now completed day 2 of 5k-10k which I have returned to as I feel I have lost so much fitness in injury time. I have also lost confidence in my running ability.
BUT body confidence wise I am feeling great- funnily enough I haven't miraculously lost 3 stone over night, but as I also don't know if I have fluctuated 7 lbs in a week either way then I am happy as my clothes still fit and I haven't stepped on the scales in over a week. I would like to lose weight, but actually I would like to tone up. I don't really care what figures I weigh.
I will return as the doors just gone
Ive also been thinking long and hard about the great weight debate. I am a bigger girl, I am also addicted to my scales and have been known to weigh myself when I get up for a wee at 4am. Yes, really..... so I have been looking at my body image, relationship with my weight, my body and the scales as a whole. I have a wonderful husband who is my rock. I suffer with Crohns Disease which is a fluctuating condition and very debilitating, so for all the nights I have danced till 3am I have other days I go to bed at literally 5pm. I know my husband loves me for more than the size off my bum but I often feel guilty that he has been lumbered with a fatty. My body has taken a battering due to the Crohns and the various medications I have to take. They also have an adverse effect on my weight and I have gained most of my weight in the last 3 years (conversely also since I gave up smoking) and my relationship with the scales have been getting increasingly dysfunctional.
SO I made a decision. I have removed the scales from the bathroom, they don't tell me my worth, they don't tell me how much I am loved by my family and friends, or how fit I am.
I have been going to the gym, doing circuits (with my husband) and my gym work out the PT set me. I have also now completed day 2 of 5k-10k which I have returned to as I feel I have lost so much fitness in injury time. I have also lost confidence in my running ability.
BUT body confidence wise I am feeling great- funnily enough I haven't miraculously lost 3 stone over night, but as I also don't know if I have fluctuated 7 lbs in a week either way then I am happy as my clothes still fit and I haven't stepped on the scales in over a week. I would like to lose weight, but actually I would like to tone up. I don't really care what figures I weigh.
I will return as the doors just gone
Thursday 18 June 2015
Woman down
Little did we know. I could tell the whole sorry tale but suffice to say it was a wee bit more than a sprained ankle and I was to face extensive surgery and 9 months non weight bearing.
I had suffered a Lisfranc Fracture (normally an injury associated with falling off a horse and foot being trapped in the stirrup, NOT (badly) salsa dancing in your back garden in barefeet on seemingly innocent decking).....
From wiki:
Treatment
Options include operative or non-operative treatment. If the dislocation is less than 2 mm, the fracture can be managed with casting for six weeks.[12] The patient's injured limb cannot bear weight during this period. For severe Lisfranc injuries, open reduction with internal fixation (ORIF) and temporary screw or Kirschner wire (K-wire) fixation is the treatment of choice.[13] The foot cannot be allowed to bear weight for a minimum of six weeks. Partial weight-bearing may then begin, with full weight bearing after an additional several weeks, depending on the specific injury. K-wires are typically removed after six weeks, before weight bearing, while screws are often removed after 12 weeks.[13]When a Lisfranc injury is characterized by significant displacement of the tarsometatarsal joint(s), nonoperative treatment often leads to severe loss of function and long-term disability secondary to chronic pain and sometimes to a planovalgus deformity. In cases with severe pain, loss of function, or progressive deformity that has failed to respond to nonoperative treatment, mid-tarsal and tarsometatarsal arthrodesis (operative fusion of the bones) may be indicated.[14]
I was lucky I escaped having my bones fused but only just. The surgeon said the repair may last 10 years and I face the bones being fused in the future.
Anyway enough about that whats happened now? Well I have to be careful with my foot as it can still be quite painful and if you remember a week before the 10 k I fell in the street, and landed on my knees, and the top of my feet causing cuts and bruising to the central scar on my foot. I went for a run a week ago and my whole inner calf came up in bruising. This has happened a couple of times before and its very painful. I was advised to abort the run and to go and get it checked out asap.
Eventually (after my running buddy Plum telling me she was not speaking to me until I got and get it seen to!) I went to see a wonderful sports physio Claire Treen (https://twitter.com/clairetreen) who has had a good look and diagnosed me with tears in my calf and a very unhappy injured foot.
SO what now? Well 4-6 weeks rest from running *howl of anguish* and some exercises to do, and another appt on the 29th. However I am signed up for a 10k on the 28th, so what to do? You can drop down to the 5k on the day and we figured if I rest up between now and then and go for the 5k option with tape and sensiblilty I should be able to take part. I have been doing a lot of swimming this last week or so and going to HIIT classes to get stronger. So Ishall be keeping up the swimming, and resting, and stretching foot with a big green elastic band and icing and being sensible..........
Notr sure what this means for the half marathon. I might have to aim for a 2016 half...............I will think on it
Tuesday 9 June 2015
Excuse me! I think thats MY mojo
Ok so there has been some serious mojo losing going on over here. After the 10km and then the abysmal run afterwards I have a confession to make. I haven't been running since :(
Doomy Delores has taken up residence in my head. She has been heckling me for still being overweight (see! I didn't use the F.A.T word) cos everyone knows if you take up running the weight just *falls* off you............and it HASN'T. I have convinced myself that I am not a runner, everyone is laughing at me, I can't run cos I'm slow bla la la
It would appear, looking at my group of running buddies posts on FB that its not just me. Maybe its a post 10k thing, a bit like post wedding, post baby, post anything massive! An anti climax?
Ironically a lot of us are doing another 10k in 3 weeks time but we seem to have forgotten that fact!
Anyway this evening I decided (with the help of some positivity from my running friends) I decided to go for a run. Not 10k, not 5k, just a loop from my house and back and see how it goes. I decided to lower my distance and work on my speed cos I am a SLOW runner. I need to speed up for some PB's, for weight loss, for ME.
The first km I was a lot speedier than usual, but I was gasping like an upturned turtle and grunting like a warthog. I knew I was, despite having noise cancelling earphones in. Some poor woman jumped out of her skin as I snorted up behind her at a bus stop! I then decided that I would just do 1km and turn round and go back. Yes, 2km, that'll do.
There was, however, a huge arson attack close to us last night, and the rubbernecker in me got the better of me- I decided to keep running so I could have a nose at the arson scene (a kids adventure playground- mindless idiots) I was still trying to keep my speed up and it hurt! I was trying not to check my garmin every 3 seconds and just enjoy but I was pleased to see that I was a lot faster than average. I then thought I might as well keep going as I could do a loop back home, and it didn't matter if I walked some.
Then I got to a hill. A downhill. And I decided to run down it. Not jog down it, not plod down it, but actually run. Like a kid does. Running for the sake of running. Some of my best running moments have been when Ive felt like I was a child running for the joy of it, like we all used to. So I trotted down the hill at a speedy pace. I realised that I was scared of falling over. I broke my foot 5 years ago and had extensive surgery to pin it back together. It still hurts often and Ive realised that I favour it and it adds to my lack of speed, especially on uneven ground.
I then came to the homeward journey that I knew involved quite a steep hilly bit. I thought, oh well, I'll run up it but a new character came into my head. Competitive Caz! Me! Competitive against myself. I snuck a look at my Garmin and realised I was still going pretty speedily compared to usual and decided that I would run as much as I could up the hill. I puffed, I snorted, I gasped, I groaned. I know this will hurt tomorrow but Im looking forward to it. Ive got comfortable being the slow one, plodding round at my own pace. But I want to speed up! I want to sweat, to puff, to grunt, to ache.
Competitive Caz is here! I am going to push myself harder as I have grabbed that mojo and I don't ever want to let it go.......
By the way- I did 4km in 34.19 mins
Doomy Delores has taken up residence in my head. She has been heckling me for still being overweight (see! I didn't use the F.A.T word) cos everyone knows if you take up running the weight just *falls* off you............and it HASN'T. I have convinced myself that I am not a runner, everyone is laughing at me, I can't run cos I'm slow bla la la
It would appear, looking at my group of running buddies posts on FB that its not just me. Maybe its a post 10k thing, a bit like post wedding, post baby, post anything massive! An anti climax?
Ironically a lot of us are doing another 10k in 3 weeks time but we seem to have forgotten that fact!
Anyway this evening I decided (with the help of some positivity from my running friends) I decided to go for a run. Not 10k, not 5k, just a loop from my house and back and see how it goes. I decided to lower my distance and work on my speed cos I am a SLOW runner. I need to speed up for some PB's, for weight loss, for ME.
The first km I was a lot speedier than usual, but I was gasping like an upturned turtle and grunting like a warthog. I knew I was, despite having noise cancelling earphones in. Some poor woman jumped out of her skin as I snorted up behind her at a bus stop! I then decided that I would just do 1km and turn round and go back. Yes, 2km, that'll do.
There was, however, a huge arson attack close to us last night, and the rubbernecker in me got the better of me- I decided to keep running so I could have a nose at the arson scene (a kids adventure playground- mindless idiots) I was still trying to keep my speed up and it hurt! I was trying not to check my garmin every 3 seconds and just enjoy but I was pleased to see that I was a lot faster than average. I then thought I might as well keep going as I could do a loop back home, and it didn't matter if I walked some.
Then I got to a hill. A downhill. And I decided to run down it. Not jog down it, not plod down it, but actually run. Like a kid does. Running for the sake of running. Some of my best running moments have been when Ive felt like I was a child running for the joy of it, like we all used to. So I trotted down the hill at a speedy pace. I realised that I was scared of falling over. I broke my foot 5 years ago and had extensive surgery to pin it back together. It still hurts often and Ive realised that I favour it and it adds to my lack of speed, especially on uneven ground.
I then came to the homeward journey that I knew involved quite a steep hilly bit. I thought, oh well, I'll run up it but a new character came into my head. Competitive Caz! Me! Competitive against myself. I snuck a look at my Garmin and realised I was still going pretty speedily compared to usual and decided that I would run as much as I could up the hill. I puffed, I snorted, I gasped, I groaned. I know this will hurt tomorrow but Im looking forward to it. Ive got comfortable being the slow one, plodding round at my own pace. But I want to speed up! I want to sweat, to puff, to grunt, to ache.
Competitive Caz is here! I am going to push myself harder as I have grabbed that mojo and I don't ever want to let it go.......
By the way- I did 4km in 34.19 mins
Monday 8 June 2015
Fat and its associated friends
In a single day I can swing from "fat and happy": "Im only a size 16! I was a size 14 when i got married 12 years ago, AND I've had 3 babies since"
To fat and sad: "I am DISGUSTING. I am a SIZE 16. I am 5' 5". My BMI makes me very nearly dead. I must lose at least 6 stone to be a worthy member of the human race"
I can wake up Paleo, be on Slimming World by 11am, Weightwatchers by lunchtime, and Atkins by tea.
I have diet books on my shelves from (off the top of my head) Weightwatchers, Slimming World, Harcombe, Juice bloke Jason thingy, Hairy Bikers, terriAnn123, Fat Diet, Sugar free diets, Fasting .........................
My head is completely done in by all the different options, conflicting advice and new plans coming out every 5 minutes. I have looked up Gastric surgery, I have toyed with VLCD (Very low calorie diets), I have drunk shakes that taste like the foam in a sewer.
I have called myself horrid names. I have apologised to my husband for being so gross and how he is stuck with me. I have accused him of coming to bed after me so he doesnt have to look at my grotesqueness. (He was watching the cycling) I have watched my 6 year old daughter squeeze her non existant belly and say "God, Im sooooo fat". (learned behaviour or what)
It makes me so sad. Yes being overweight (and I AM overweight) is bad for your health. BUT why am I so mean to myself? I would never talk to someone else the way I talk to me in my head. I can be utterly vile to myself. Sat in front of the mirror poking my rolls of flab when I bend over (FYI my 11 year old football mad super slinky son has rolls when he bends over- its called SKIN. It covers your skeleton. You'dbe a bit nippy without it!)
The simple answer is a simple equation of calories in/ calories out. Eat less, move more.
Why then is it so hard..................
To fat and sad: "I am DISGUSTING. I am a SIZE 16. I am 5' 5". My BMI makes me very nearly dead. I must lose at least 6 stone to be a worthy member of the human race"
I can wake up Paleo, be on Slimming World by 11am, Weightwatchers by lunchtime, and Atkins by tea.
I have diet books on my shelves from (off the top of my head) Weightwatchers, Slimming World, Harcombe, Juice bloke Jason thingy, Hairy Bikers, terriAnn123, Fat Diet, Sugar free diets, Fasting .........................
My head is completely done in by all the different options, conflicting advice and new plans coming out every 5 minutes. I have looked up Gastric surgery, I have toyed with VLCD (Very low calorie diets), I have drunk shakes that taste like the foam in a sewer.
I have called myself horrid names. I have apologised to my husband for being so gross and how he is stuck with me. I have accused him of coming to bed after me so he doesnt have to look at my grotesqueness. (He was watching the cycling) I have watched my 6 year old daughter squeeze her non existant belly and say "God, Im sooooo fat". (learned behaviour or what)
It makes me so sad. Yes being overweight (and I AM overweight) is bad for your health. BUT why am I so mean to myself? I would never talk to someone else the way I talk to me in my head. I can be utterly vile to myself. Sat in front of the mirror poking my rolls of flab when I bend over (FYI my 11 year old football mad super slinky son has rolls when he bends over- its called SKIN. It covers your skeleton. You'dbe a bit nippy without it!)
The simple answer is a simple equation of calories in/ calories out. Eat less, move more.
Why then is it so hard..................
Wednesday 3 June 2015
Rubbish Runs. We all have them/Polly and Delores........
Last night I went for my first post 10k run. According to my training schedule I had to do a 30 minute easy run. Well to be fair everything was still hurting from the 10k and I chose a route that started with an uphill stretch. It was blowing a gale and I just wasn't feeling it.At 27 minutes I had to give up and limp home feeling really pissed off and angry with running as a whole. I decided it was a fluke that I ever got round the 10km and I could never run again, let alone the half marathon.
I have never had a hobby that makes me feel so schizophrenic in my life. I love running, I really do. I couldn't do it if I didn't, but I also hate it. There are two voices that live in your head when you are a runner. There is the one that pushes you, makes you get out there and do it and is your biggest champion. Lets call her Positive Polly. Positive Polly is sunshine, happiness and a forever positive outlook. She's the one who gets you putting your running gear on and believing you CAN do these distances, you can improve and you ROCK. She is the bit of you that makes "I love running" type boards on Pinterest, makes you subscribe to running mags and makes you get up at 6.30 am on a Sunday morning to stand around freezing to death in a vest top and a binbag, before running 10k having paid thirty odd quid for the privilege........
Then there is Doomy Delores. Doomy Delores is with me on most runs, if she allows me to get there in the first place. Delores also lives in my head and her biggest source of entertainment is, in layman terms, to piss on my proverbial bonfire. Often Delores is so much louder than Polly you don't get off the sofa at all. Delores will tell you you are fat, so fat that running isn't worth it. She tells you you're too tired, too old, too busy. If you ignore her enough to get out and run she will tell you you are crap, slow, embarrassing yourself. She'll tell you running is a waste of time, you look like a twat, everyone is laughing at you and its a waste of time. Delores likes to do nothing. She loves negativity and is a liar. She despises Polly and tries to trip her up at all times.
I think as runners we all have a Polly and Delores. In fact in most aspects of our life we have a Polly and a Delores. I am going to try my hardest to focus on and channel my Polly in my running. Ive spent too long giving headspace to Delores and she's a goner!!!!
I have never had a hobby that makes me feel so schizophrenic in my life. I love running, I really do. I couldn't do it if I didn't, but I also hate it. There are two voices that live in your head when you are a runner. There is the one that pushes you, makes you get out there and do it and is your biggest champion. Lets call her Positive Polly. Positive Polly is sunshine, happiness and a forever positive outlook. She's the one who gets you putting your running gear on and believing you CAN do these distances, you can improve and you ROCK. She is the bit of you that makes "I love running" type boards on Pinterest, makes you subscribe to running mags and makes you get up at 6.30 am on a Sunday morning to stand around freezing to death in a vest top and a binbag, before running 10k having paid thirty odd quid for the privilege........
Then there is Doomy Delores. Doomy Delores is with me on most runs, if she allows me to get there in the first place. Delores also lives in my head and her biggest source of entertainment is, in layman terms, to piss on my proverbial bonfire. Often Delores is so much louder than Polly you don't get off the sofa at all. Delores will tell you you are fat, so fat that running isn't worth it. She tells you you're too tired, too old, too busy. If you ignore her enough to get out and run she will tell you you are crap, slow, embarrassing yourself. She'll tell you running is a waste of time, you look like a twat, everyone is laughing at you and its a waste of time. Delores likes to do nothing. She loves negativity and is a liar. She despises Polly and tries to trip her up at all times.
I think as runners we all have a Polly and Delores. In fact in most aspects of our life we have a Polly and a Delores. I am going to try my hardest to focus on and channel my Polly in my running. Ive spent too long giving headspace to Delores and she's a goner!!!!
Sunday 31 May 2015
Race Day........The post mortem
So today we did the Bristol 10k. For some reason I ended up with a red number, which is the first wave that goes behind the elite (HA.HA.HA) and before the yellow and green (e.g: most normal people) However I saw this as a 15 min head start and psychologically it worked brilliantly as I wasn't struggling along with the stragglers from the start! Even though all my friends who started after me over took me I still felt mentally ok abut my pace etc.
So after mother nature deciding to hit me with "the curse" on Friday I was very worried about running on day 3 of my cycle- a day when I normally curl up in a ball with a hot water bottle and a cold flannel for the hormonal headache.............Great timing
So my race went something like this;
Km1: OMG Im in with fast people. Must keep up. Cant breathe. Cant breathe. Need to slow down. Shit Im in red. Cant slow down, they will recognise me for imposter I am. Glad I have inhaler.
KM2: YAY! Its now a 9km. Oh! I need a wee. Ok Head to portaloo on Portway. Yes, a nice little jog along the portway to the loo. Why am I running? Why did I want to do this? STUPID sport. AM old and fat. Cant breathe. Need a wee.
KM3: Ok. 3 down. It always gets easier after 3. Oh! I can breathe! Shit was that a green number? Oh no everyones overtaking me. Wheres that loo? Shoulders feel more relaxed.......Daft Punk sing to me and spur me on on the iPod- harder better faster stronger- feel momentarily like a proper runner
KM4: OMG nearly halfway. Look theres everyone coming back down the Portway the other side. Still haven't seen a loo. Why am I doing this? Its raining. Im fat. Oooooh!! Don't stop me now on iPod. Just what I needed.
KM5: Coming back down the portway now. Fab! Homeward bound. Britney Spears keeps me company on the iPod and buoys me up a bit. Get to water station and have a few glugs. Rub water on face, remember I have Race Day Make up applied. Why is my big toe numb?
KM6: Oooh this is where it REALLY hurt last year. Maybe it will again. Maybe I ought to walk. Oh! I have a gel in my pouch. Have a gel. feel like a twat having a gel on a 10k and get middle class guilt about chucking the wrapper on the floor. Im still running! Its a miracle. And I can breathe
KM7: Ow. Bit hurty in the bum cheek now. Haven't seen any supporters I know. Starting to feel a bit over it now. Why am I doing this? Its ONLY 3k now. Get on with it. OOOOHHHH theres the TMR supporters. get given some jelly babies. Realise chewing means I can't breathe. Am still running. Or plodding.
KM8: Pat Bentar "Hit me with your best shot" on iPod. Ive got this. AM invincible. But my bum hurts. Stop and stand still for a minute. Realise I feel really dizzy. Wobble slightly. A lady runs past me and says "Come ON! You can do this. Not far now" Thank you, I say, I needed that, and start to plod on again.
KM9: Loads of spectators now. You can't stop the beat from Hairspray comes on iPod and makes me whoop as thats my "dig deep" training song. Running round Bristol city centre. Not many thoughts now. 1k to go. Ive got this. Then I spot my family- husband, all 4 kids and in laws! Run over and get a hug off my boys. Promptly burst into tears and run off. See the 500metres sign. Try to compose self and keep going.
KM10: It doesn't feel real as I get over the finish line. I know my time is much better than last year but just feel hot, cold and tired!
Its now 6.15pm and I have looked up my time, looked at loads of pics and had a big carvery!
I am shattered and can't think of anything funny to say so I will be back tomorrow when Im over it and can start looking toward the half marathon. OMG...........
So after mother nature deciding to hit me with "the curse" on Friday I was very worried about running on day 3 of my cycle- a day when I normally curl up in a ball with a hot water bottle and a cold flannel for the hormonal headache.............Great timing
So my race went something like this;
Km1: OMG Im in with fast people. Must keep up. Cant breathe. Cant breathe. Need to slow down. Shit Im in red. Cant slow down, they will recognise me for imposter I am. Glad I have inhaler.
KM2: YAY! Its now a 9km. Oh! I need a wee. Ok Head to portaloo on Portway. Yes, a nice little jog along the portway to the loo. Why am I running? Why did I want to do this? STUPID sport. AM old and fat. Cant breathe. Need a wee.
KM3: Ok. 3 down. It always gets easier after 3. Oh! I can breathe! Shit was that a green number? Oh no everyones overtaking me. Wheres that loo? Shoulders feel more relaxed.......Daft Punk sing to me and spur me on on the iPod- harder better faster stronger- feel momentarily like a proper runner
KM4: OMG nearly halfway. Look theres everyone coming back down the Portway the other side. Still haven't seen a loo. Why am I doing this? Its raining. Im fat. Oooooh!! Don't stop me now on iPod. Just what I needed.
KM5: Coming back down the portway now. Fab! Homeward bound. Britney Spears keeps me company on the iPod and buoys me up a bit. Get to water station and have a few glugs. Rub water on face, remember I have Race Day Make up applied. Why is my big toe numb?
KM6: Oooh this is where it REALLY hurt last year. Maybe it will again. Maybe I ought to walk. Oh! I have a gel in my pouch. Have a gel. feel like a twat having a gel on a 10k and get middle class guilt about chucking the wrapper on the floor. Im still running! Its a miracle. And I can breathe
KM7: Ow. Bit hurty in the bum cheek now. Haven't seen any supporters I know. Starting to feel a bit over it now. Why am I doing this? Its ONLY 3k now. Get on with it. OOOOHHHH theres the TMR supporters. get given some jelly babies. Realise chewing means I can't breathe. Am still running. Or plodding.
KM8: Pat Bentar "Hit me with your best shot" on iPod. Ive got this. AM invincible. But my bum hurts. Stop and stand still for a minute. Realise I feel really dizzy. Wobble slightly. A lady runs past me and says "Come ON! You can do this. Not far now" Thank you, I say, I needed that, and start to plod on again.
KM9: Loads of spectators now. You can't stop the beat from Hairspray comes on iPod and makes me whoop as thats my "dig deep" training song. Running round Bristol city centre. Not many thoughts now. 1k to go. Ive got this. Then I spot my family- husband, all 4 kids and in laws! Run over and get a hug off my boys. Promptly burst into tears and run off. See the 500metres sign. Try to compose self and keep going.
KM10: It doesn't feel real as I get over the finish line. I know my time is much better than last year but just feel hot, cold and tired!
Its now 6.15pm and I have looked up my time, looked at loads of pics and had a big carvery!
I am shattered and can't think of anything funny to say so I will be back tomorrow when Im over it and can start looking toward the half marathon. OMG...........
Friday 29 May 2015
Lip up Fatty or How many bowling balls are in YOUR pants?
So today I mentioned to a (male) friend about Sundays 10k. "Oh yes" said He. "You're running it aren't you, although, to be fair with YOUR running speed its more like walking pace" *guffaw*
He then went on to justify saying this by saying "well I guess if someone like me *points at own skinny physique* were to run with your extra weight it would be slow too, as it would be like I was running carrying bowling balls cos of the extra weight"........
Now for some reason I have been feeling more and more apprehensive about the 10k as it approaches. I was very slow last year and this year I feel I may be equally as slow or slower but I've been feeling ok about it as I have run consistently for the last 6 months and whilst Im still slow, for the first time ever I'm still doing it and have longer term goals to keep me going. With the support of my running buddies I have made peace with my weightloss goals and slow running style.
Why then did that one comment make me start up all the negative thoughts again. My internal monologue said "see- why are you even attempting a 10k again? you were shit last time you'll be shit again. You are a laughing stock. Everyones just humouring you. You will always be the fat bird at the back and have you SEEN your bum in your running leggings?" and so on.
I feel absolutely devastated that one off cuff comment could hurt so much. He is not a nasty man, and is quite good friend. I genuinely think he just "didn't" think. He is a runner. Maybe he thinks women shouldn't run? Maybe he's gutted he can't do the 10k (I know he's working sunday)? Maybe fat runners offend him?
I did what I needed to in this situation.....I went to my friends on #thismumruns and have had more ressurance than I could have dreamt of. And I have remembered that I am proud......
*I am proud of my body that has produced 4 wonderful children over the last 18 years
* I am proud of the fact I run despite having a nasty disease (Crohns) and being on hardcore medication that I have inject myself with bi-weekly and being so anaemic I have iron infusions
* I am proud of the fact I have a fantastic husband who is nothing but supportive of me in every thing I do, running included (he is online booking us flights to Dublin for a couple of nights away as I type this)
*I am proud that I was Mays "fat runner of the month" on toofattorun.co.uk
*I am proud that I have found the best group of running mates a girl could wish for who champion me every step of the way and I can always rely on to pick up my metaphorical bowling balls, should they ever metaphorically fall out of my pants on race day!!!
Between us we have more balls than any cruel hearted man could ever dream of having in his pants!!
XXXX
He then went on to justify saying this by saying "well I guess if someone like me *points at own skinny physique* were to run with your extra weight it would be slow too, as it would be like I was running carrying bowling balls cos of the extra weight"........
Now for some reason I have been feeling more and more apprehensive about the 10k as it approaches. I was very slow last year and this year I feel I may be equally as slow or slower but I've been feeling ok about it as I have run consistently for the last 6 months and whilst Im still slow, for the first time ever I'm still doing it and have longer term goals to keep me going. With the support of my running buddies I have made peace with my weightloss goals and slow running style.
Why then did that one comment make me start up all the negative thoughts again. My internal monologue said "see- why are you even attempting a 10k again? you were shit last time you'll be shit again. You are a laughing stock. Everyones just humouring you. You will always be the fat bird at the back and have you SEEN your bum in your running leggings?" and so on.
I feel absolutely devastated that one off cuff comment could hurt so much. He is not a nasty man, and is quite good friend. I genuinely think he just "didn't" think. He is a runner. Maybe he thinks women shouldn't run? Maybe he's gutted he can't do the 10k (I know he's working sunday)? Maybe fat runners offend him?
I did what I needed to in this situation.....I went to my friends on #thismumruns and have had more ressurance than I could have dreamt of. And I have remembered that I am proud......
*I am proud of my body that has produced 4 wonderful children over the last 18 years
* I am proud of the fact I run despite having a nasty disease (Crohns) and being on hardcore medication that I have inject myself with bi-weekly and being so anaemic I have iron infusions
* I am proud of the fact I have a fantastic husband who is nothing but supportive of me in every thing I do, running included (he is online booking us flights to Dublin for a couple of nights away as I type this)
*I am proud that I was Mays "fat runner of the month" on toofattorun.co.uk
*I am proud that I have found the best group of running mates a girl could wish for who champion me every step of the way and I can always rely on to pick up my metaphorical bowling balls, should they ever metaphorically fall out of my pants on race day!!!
Between us we have more balls than any cruel hearted man could ever dream of having in his pants!!
XXXX
Thursday 28 May 2015
The changing room....
So this evening I went to the gym to do my 25min easy run. Which was fine. Then I went for a dip in the pool, and a flop in the steam room. So far so pleasant. Running went without a hitch, so I was happy about that as its my last one before the 10km.
So then I went and had a shower and went to the changing room. Ah the changing room. What a wondrous place.
I went into the bit where my locker was, retrieved my things from the locker and started to remove my swimsuit. There was someone elses stuff on the bench but I though nothing of it until after I had rolled off my soggy swimsuit and I heard the click of the private cubicle in that area.
Out of the private cubicle pops a lovely, spritely, tiny fit looking gym nymph. Now DISCLAIMER- I am not dissing this lady for being little and tiny and fit and petit and tiny and fit and young and lovely- I go to a gym that likes to think its quite exclusive and smart and it attracts many spritely young fit things. It does spinning at pre coffee type times in the morning for the love of all things holy! SO this young springy small lady comes out of the cubicle (fully dressed) and proceeds to sit down to dry her feet. (I just give mine a cursory wipe on the towel when its on the floor but hey! If she has time to dry between each (tiny) toe then all power to her.) I meanwhile was trying not to flash my ample bits at the poor girl. Now I have no qualms about stripping off in communal areas- I have 4 kids and I think there are only about 3 members of staff left at Southmead Hospital who haven't seen my fouffe, and I share a school run with one of my old midwives, and every time we give a cheery wave in the morning I snigger at the thought of the fact she's seen bits of me I haven't!
So back to the changing room and Im trying to get changed without scaring the poor girl......As I mentioned in a previous blog post I have been stuffing my face lately and have put on a few pounds. Now the first thing that stops fitting when I put on weight is my pants. So I arranged my towel around my neck to cover my (pendulous) bosoms and and jump into my pants quickly. However when it then came to wrestling my (enormous) bosoms into my bra my pants kept rolling down under my belly. It was like when you try to put a rat with rigour mortis in an old tea bag box and its tail keeps springing out. What? You've never done that? Remind me to tell you that story at a later date
So anyway- my knickers are rolling down, my boobs are covered finally by my (DD) bra and I go to put on my (skinny) jeans. Well, not skinny, as they are a size bigger than a 14, but they are skinny fit.
Ever tried to put skinny fit jeans on after swimming? (she's still drying her feet btw)
So I get my jeans over my feet, (did I mention I have big scabs and bruises on my feet and knees where I "had a fall" last week) so Im hopping into my jeans making "heave" noises like a one woman tug o war team trying to avoid my hurty bits. I get my jeans on, and reach for my top so I can stop scaring the poor girl. I mean, we are both adult females, but our bodies are about as far removed as, say, a gorilla, and a marmoset. At that point I realise that the make up I applied carefully this morning is now down my face so I look like a semi naked Alice Cooper.
Finally the lovely lady leaves and gives me a shy smile as she goes (bless her). I wipe my face with a wipe to remove the make up (finally! a useful thing in my gym bag) and go to put my shoes on.......
Except I have forgotten my bloody shoes, so back on go my sweaty trainers for the walk to the car with the "I forgot my normal shoes but have my normal clothes on" walk of shame................
So then I went and had a shower and went to the changing room. Ah the changing room. What a wondrous place.
I went into the bit where my locker was, retrieved my things from the locker and started to remove my swimsuit. There was someone elses stuff on the bench but I though nothing of it until after I had rolled off my soggy swimsuit and I heard the click of the private cubicle in that area.
Out of the private cubicle pops a lovely, spritely, tiny fit looking gym nymph. Now DISCLAIMER- I am not dissing this lady for being little and tiny and fit and petit and tiny and fit and young and lovely- I go to a gym that likes to think its quite exclusive and smart and it attracts many spritely young fit things. It does spinning at pre coffee type times in the morning for the love of all things holy! SO this young springy small lady comes out of the cubicle (fully dressed) and proceeds to sit down to dry her feet. (I just give mine a cursory wipe on the towel when its on the floor but hey! If she has time to dry between each (tiny) toe then all power to her.) I meanwhile was trying not to flash my ample bits at the poor girl. Now I have no qualms about stripping off in communal areas- I have 4 kids and I think there are only about 3 members of staff left at Southmead Hospital who haven't seen my fouffe, and I share a school run with one of my old midwives, and every time we give a cheery wave in the morning I snigger at the thought of the fact she's seen bits of me I haven't!
So back to the changing room and Im trying to get changed without scaring the poor girl......As I mentioned in a previous blog post I have been stuffing my face lately and have put on a few pounds. Now the first thing that stops fitting when I put on weight is my pants. So I arranged my towel around my neck to cover my (pendulous) bosoms and and jump into my pants quickly. However when it then came to wrestling my (enormous) bosoms into my bra my pants kept rolling down under my belly. It was like when you try to put a rat with rigour mortis in an old tea bag box and its tail keeps springing out. What? You've never done that? Remind me to tell you that story at a later date
So anyway- my knickers are rolling down, my boobs are covered finally by my (DD) bra and I go to put on my (skinny) jeans. Well, not skinny, as they are a size bigger than a 14, but they are skinny fit.
Ever tried to put skinny fit jeans on after swimming? (she's still drying her feet btw)
So I get my jeans over my feet, (did I mention I have big scabs and bruises on my feet and knees where I "had a fall" last week) so Im hopping into my jeans making "heave" noises like a one woman tug o war team trying to avoid my hurty bits. I get my jeans on, and reach for my top so I can stop scaring the poor girl. I mean, we are both adult females, but our bodies are about as far removed as, say, a gorilla, and a marmoset. At that point I realise that the make up I applied carefully this morning is now down my face so I look like a semi naked Alice Cooper.
Finally the lovely lady leaves and gives me a shy smile as she goes (bless her). I wipe my face with a wipe to remove the make up (finally! a useful thing in my gym bag) and go to put my shoes on.......
Except I have forgotten my bloody shoes, so back on go my sweaty trainers for the walk to the car with the "I forgot my normal shoes but have my normal clothes on" walk of shame................
Eating and cheating and lycra weirdo meeting.......
So I have been trying to eat "clean" this week, I have got back into the breakfast habit and have been having salmon and cottage cheese which is as far removed from the dreaded cereal as I can go so I can bear it (weird post childhood cereal phobia- goes hand in hand with a phobia of orange squash especially when served in hot tuppaware cups.....)
Lunch has been pretty good - salad and a protein (chicken/lamb/ham) jazzed up with some dressing and Ive been snacking on cubes of emmenthal and gruyere and mixed unsalted nuts. I thought I was hungry this afternoon then remembered my cheese and nuts and they really made me satisfied.
Last night I made "fakeaway" doner kebab meat and it was AMAZING! I had it with roasted veg, salad and a gluten free pitta bread. I have upped my veg intake dramatically and am trying to build meals around veg- and go with as few processed crappy carbs as possible.
Today I had one biscuit at work literally because they were on my desk and might have eaten some toffee this afternoon (my bad) but ditto was around. However that is DRAMATICALLY less crap than I usually eat at my desk!
Todays schedule calls for a 25 min run and I also have a body balance class booked to focus body and mind for Sundays fast approaching 10km. I am really excited about it this year- last year I was woefully unprepared and hadn't quite "got" running yet, whereas I have run 10km a number of times now so the distance doesn't scare me any more and the buzz was amazing (despite the fact I couldn't really enjoy last year cos I felt literally DEAD at the end and was trying not to puke and/or fall over.
In fact, I'll let you into a secret- between km's about 6 and 9.5 last year I HATED it. My old foot injury was playing up,I was crying with the pain, and my internal monologue was REALLY hacked off with me for even attempting such a feat when I am old, fat and not brilliantly healthy. St Johns ambulance were circling me on their bikes like vultures waiting for an elderly mammal to keel over so they could peck over its ample flesh............
I was furious with myself for even attempting the race, my proud self was furious at how slow I was compared to others and why was I humiliating myself like that when I could be IN THE PUB.........I ALWAYS win at drinking. Im brilliant at falling over, making hilarious jokes and leading everyone onto the dance floor. WHY do I want to be cavorting about with these lycra clad WEIRDOES that are better than me purely because they are SADCASES???
Fast forward a year and I am happy to sad up and say yes, I am a lycra clad weirdo! I own a Garmin GPS running watch, I go to (super weirdo haven I thought ) Parkrun, I have a foam roller, I have a subscription to Womens Running Magazine AND I read it, and I pay what used to be good drinking money for race entries!
This is thanks to #ThisMumRuns who proved to me that runners are nice, and supportive and the only person thats bothered about my lastness/slowness is ME. It took me about 4 months to trust and believe that they weren't laughing at me, I wasn't the "token fatty", and these wonderful women were actually rooting for me and on the same journey. Its been a hell of a learning curve and all my fear of "proper" runners was exactly that- fear. And lack of confidence which running is improving every day.
Now........what knickers am I going to wear under my lycra for sundays 10km?.........
Lunch has been pretty good - salad and a protein (chicken/lamb/ham) jazzed up with some dressing and Ive been snacking on cubes of emmenthal and gruyere and mixed unsalted nuts. I thought I was hungry this afternoon then remembered my cheese and nuts and they really made me satisfied.
Last night I made "fakeaway" doner kebab meat and it was AMAZING! I had it with roasted veg, salad and a gluten free pitta bread. I have upped my veg intake dramatically and am trying to build meals around veg- and go with as few processed crappy carbs as possible.
Today I had one biscuit at work literally because they were on my desk and might have eaten some toffee this afternoon (my bad) but ditto was around. However that is DRAMATICALLY less crap than I usually eat at my desk!
Todays schedule calls for a 25 min run and I also have a body balance class booked to focus body and mind for Sundays fast approaching 10km. I am really excited about it this year- last year I was woefully unprepared and hadn't quite "got" running yet, whereas I have run 10km a number of times now so the distance doesn't scare me any more and the buzz was amazing (despite the fact I couldn't really enjoy last year cos I felt literally DEAD at the end and was trying not to puke and/or fall over.
In fact, I'll let you into a secret- between km's about 6 and 9.5 last year I HATED it. My old foot injury was playing up,I was crying with the pain, and my internal monologue was REALLY hacked off with me for even attempting such a feat when I am old, fat and not brilliantly healthy. St Johns ambulance were circling me on their bikes like vultures waiting for an elderly mammal to keel over so they could peck over its ample flesh............
I was furious with myself for even attempting the race, my proud self was furious at how slow I was compared to others and why was I humiliating myself like that when I could be IN THE PUB.........I ALWAYS win at drinking. Im brilliant at falling over, making hilarious jokes and leading everyone onto the dance floor. WHY do I want to be cavorting about with these lycra clad WEIRDOES that are better than me purely because they are SADCASES???
Fast forward a year and I am happy to sad up and say yes, I am a lycra clad weirdo! I own a Garmin GPS running watch, I go to (super weirdo haven I thought ) Parkrun, I have a foam roller, I have a subscription to Womens Running Magazine AND I read it, and I pay what used to be good drinking money for race entries!
This is thanks to #ThisMumRuns who proved to me that runners are nice, and supportive and the only person thats bothered about my lastness/slowness is ME. It took me about 4 months to trust and believe that they weren't laughing at me, I wasn't the "token fatty", and these wonderful women were actually rooting for me and on the same journey. Its been a hell of a learning curve and all my fear of "proper" runners was exactly that- fear. And lack of confidence which running is improving every day.
Now........what knickers am I going to wear under my lycra for sundays 10km?.........
Wednesday 27 May 2015
A sweaty breathless beginning
Well I have ticked run session number one off the Half Marathon training plan. It was a 20 minute "easy run". Well having had a huge crisis of running confidence over he last couple of weeks I have just realised according to my Garmin I haven't run since May 8th. Thats disgusting! But also ha! Its a lie! I did a 6km trail run with the TMR (ThisMumRuns) girls but it was in the (cow infested) forest so my Garmin wouldn't connect........
Monday 25 May 2015
Half Marathon training starts, T6 days till 10k and carbohangover
Well today I officially start my half marathon training. I have downloaded the training plan from the RunBristol website and today I begin. Im pleased to announce today DOESN'T involve running (as I tripped over a curb on saturday and have smashed up both my knees, my feet and one toe- so sore and a huge dent to the pride) but core fitness so I will be doing a yoga dvd later with my VERY jet lagged husband who has just landed after 11 days in Barbados.
I also have weighed myself and am very upset with the results after a girly 4 day trip away in which we basically ate carbs, and drank alcohol, then another week on my own with 4 kids where I, um, ate carbs, and takeaways, and ate desserts, and ice cream, and bread, and hey, alcohol!! I am so bloated, and tired and puffy and did I mention tired?
I would like to lose weight- To get down to a comfortable size 12 I need to lose 4 stone, or 54lbs. Wow. Scary written down. I am going to eat as clean as possible, snacking on fruit or veg, cutting out processed food and white refined carbs. Im going to stick with high fat in terms of cheese, nuts, and yoghurt etc but the pizza, bread and crisps I have been relying on are going.
Today is day one and I will weigh myself on a Friday morning , blogging the lbs lost.
I need to be accountable so please, let me be accountable here!
I also have weighed myself and am very upset with the results after a girly 4 day trip away in which we basically ate carbs, and drank alcohol, then another week on my own with 4 kids where I, um, ate carbs, and takeaways, and ate desserts, and ice cream, and bread, and hey, alcohol!! I am so bloated, and tired and puffy and did I mention tired?
I would like to lose weight- To get down to a comfortable size 12 I need to lose 4 stone, or 54lbs. Wow. Scary written down. I am going to eat as clean as possible, snacking on fruit or veg, cutting out processed food and white refined carbs. Im going to stick with high fat in terms of cheese, nuts, and yoghurt etc but the pizza, bread and crisps I have been relying on are going.
Today is day one and I will weigh myself on a Friday morning , blogging the lbs lost.
I need to be accountable so please, let me be accountable here!
Thursday 21 May 2015
For Real This Time
Ok so having just re read that post from 3 years ago has reminded me that I never did do that half, and guess what? Im older, fatter, probably slower.
HOWEVER....... I have been a REAL runner for 6 months now!! I do park runs and everything. Yep, at Ashton Court with all those knob ends in lycra running up a banging great big hill at 9am on a saturday morning.
It all started with a C25K course in January. We couldn't run for a minute, but run we did through rain, hail and menopausal sweats. I am doing my 2nd 10Km run in 2 weeks time and have run 10km twice in the last month just as a "practice"
Now heres the thing. I am still very slow, but now, along with my fab running friends I run regularly and enjoy it. I have just signed up for the Half Marathon this year and have entered the ballot for the London Marathon.
There is a problem. I am very overweight. My BMI currently stands at ridiculously obese and this needs to change to improve my running and general health.
I am starting 13 weeks half marathon training next week and would really like a platform to track my (hopeful) progress.
SO here goes.........
HOWEVER....... I have been a REAL runner for 6 months now!! I do park runs and everything. Yep, at Ashton Court with all those knob ends in lycra running up a banging great big hill at 9am on a saturday morning.
It all started with a C25K course in January. We couldn't run for a minute, but run we did through rain, hail and menopausal sweats. I am doing my 2nd 10Km run in 2 weeks time and have run 10km twice in the last month just as a "practice"
Now heres the thing. I am still very slow, but now, along with my fab running friends I run regularly and enjoy it. I have just signed up for the Half Marathon this year and have entered the ballot for the London Marathon.
There is a problem. I am very overweight. My BMI currently stands at ridiculously obese and this needs to change to improve my running and general health.
I am starting 13 weeks half marathon training next week and would really like a platform to track my (hopeful) progress.
SO here goes.........
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