The week the world shattered

This is the week the world shattered around me. As such, running has not been on my mind. After last week, I was determined and ready to make more effort. I was going to surprise you all with my dedication and miles of achievement, this did not happen. I am sorry. Let me explain why…

On Monday I was focused, I stepped out for my run and with every brain cell I was committed to run an easy 5 miler. My body did not agree. Together, my mind and body achieved 2.5 miles. But something’s better than nothing right?!

Unable to shower, due to the boiler still being out of action, I decided to get up early and go swimming, which would also allow me the chance to shower.

With another cold night, I work up cold and angry. I partly blame the hormones for this mood but I mostly blame the boiler.

Now, when I get this angry I should be put in a padded cell, I am a danger to society! I have this fear that one day, I might actually lose it! I worry I will go mental on a packed tube and the police have to come and then the men in white coats turn up and they want me to go quietly, which I do, or at least if quietly means thrashing about like a wild dog and kicking and screaming. People will stare and try to get out of the way of the crazy lady, at the same time as recording me on their phones, ready to post it on youtube! Sometimes I think maybe that wouldn’t be so bad (not the youtube bit), I wouldn’t have to pay bills any more or work or commute or worry about not having a job and I’d be looked after by doctors who just want to hear me talk about rainbows and unicorns and they would give me drugs and I’d get to live in a big house in the country and never have to deal with hormones or running or boilers again. But then I realise I would be embarrassed if I freaked out on the train and perhaps it’s not a good idea after all.

It’s a bit like when you’re angry and someone is walking really slowly down the platform in front of you and no matter what you try you can’t get past them and you start to feel like they are doing it on purpose, so you get annoyed and force your way past them and think, yeah take that you slow person and then they are nice and apologise for being in the way and you feel like a terrible person and want to cry. Or when someone takes the last seat and you want to kill them and start to throw dagger eyes at them but then they look up and offer you the seat and you have to say ‘no no, I’m fine standing thanks’ and then you turn the opposite way for the entire journey.

So any way, Tuesday morning I woke up in this delicate mental state, cold and smelling. I scurried around the flat to find some food and attempted to locate some dry clothes. Of course all the clothes I had got out the wash 3 days earlier had refused to dry in such a cold flat, I tried to encourage them by aiming the hair dryer for ten minutes in their direction but it did no good. Dirty clothes again then!  

I dragged my depressed ass to the swimming pool. Going swimming when you are tired and cold and pissed off is perhaps not the best plan. I was half way through my swim, mentally preparing the email I would be sending the landlady, when an old woman got in the pool. I swear she was wearing a nightdress and a pink knitted head band! I’m telling you, it was weird! She was also smacking chewing gum, in the pool! Why would you do this in the pool! She got in, held her arms out like wings and walked in a circle. Which was of course in my way, I just wanted to do a few lengths, why do the crazies always have to get in my lane?! She then proceeded to swim 3 strokes, turn in a giant circle, swim 3 strokes back and then stand up in the middle of the pool. She was in the pool for all of 6 minutes, her nightie had gone mostly see through and yes, I think she was naked under there! She waved at the lifeguard as though he were her long lost son and with that she was gone. She reminded me of the crazy lady on the advert for Shutter Island, the one who holds her finger to her mouth to keep a secret. Also, disturbingly she had a weird blood red mark on her bum which looked like a bullet wound and as though it was bleeding. I got out of the pool not long after that.

Finally getting the hot shower I so needed, I was beginning to chill out but then of course, once my hair was filled with shampoo and my body covered in shower gel, the shower stopped working. Like any sophisticated, mature women who isn’t controlled by her emotions, I handled this well. I flew into a full on temper tantrum. I started slapping the shower head and the wall, stomping my feet and muttering under my breath. I think I even looked to the ceiling and started wailing ‘why me, whyyy’. 

Eventually, gaining enough self control I wrapped my self in my towel, gathered up my potions and lotions and shuffled into the next cubicle, where the shower actually worked. 

When I was done, the shower wouldn’t turn off! So I folded my self into the corner to save my towel from getting wet and attempted to dry my self. The shower eventually stopped so I made full use of the cubicle. Just as I wrapped the towel around my body, the shower started again and soaked my towel. For fucks sake! And this was all before 9 am on Tuesday!

Things got worse on Wednesday, the good news was the boiler was fixed, the bad news was housemate emailed the landlady and she flipped out and has now given us 30 days to vacate the premises. Did I also mention Wednesday was the last day of my contract job and I have failed in securing another job? So no job, no flat and lots of lovely debt, yeah I’m fine, fine! I was too depressed to run on Wednesday.

The half marathon badge number and pack has arrived, I have a week to go and 6ish weeks to the full marathon. I’d avoid getting on public transport with me for the time being!

Helloo, Spring?! Where are you!

I thought it was almost spring? Why is it still so cold? It doesn’t help that my office’s air conditioning is currently set to -3 or that the bloody boiler at home is still broken, we are heading into day 9 of no heating and no hot water (thank you to all those who have let me use their showers, radiators and beds over the last week).

I now walk around my house draped in various layers of clothing, including a hat, gloves, scarf, 2 pairs of socks and slippers. I have also developed a slight stoop to cope with the weight of so many clothes, I look like a bagwoman! Housemate has started using the kettle and 4 pots of water heating on the hot plates to get enough hot water for a bath, which he then takes turns in using with his girlfriend (the bath is too small for two). My bed now resembles the princess and the pea’s; there are so many duvets and blankets on it and yet I am forced to keep my head under the covers for warmth and then poke it out for air, it’s a fine line between survival and suffocation.

Any way, my point in telling you all this, is so you can appreciate why running was even harder last week and why I only managed 2 runs. As I had failed to do the 12 miles on Monday night (due to the plumber popping round), I was determined that it was going to happen on Thursday. With my goal insight I planned my route - several loops around Clapham would reach 12 easily. Why does it always feel like I’ve run further than I have? The last couple of miles were so hard and slow, Take That and their ‘never forget’ gave me a welcome boost (I really need to get some good songs on that playlist!) but it wasn’t enough! By the time I got home I was convinced I’d run about 15 miles, or maybe 13.2 (a half marathon length) at the least! No! It was only 11 miles! 11 tiny miles! That’s only like 1 mile for than the 10 miles! How could this be! I was gone for days! Actually I was gone for exactly 2 hours, 11 miles in 2 hours, yeah! I’m that slow!

I crawled in the house, heart broken, ran an ice bath and did my stretching. Shaking after the ice bath, I then drove to my friends and used her hot shower (ahhhh hot water, it feels soooo good!) and then drove home, cooked dinner at 11 pm and finally went to bed. I had a job interview on Friday morning and non-surprisingly I was running late. Something had happened to my legs over night and they no-longer worked. Apparently you have these things between your legs and your hips called hip flexes. If you upset them, power walking to an interview is impossible. Walking in heels is a no no and crossing your legs on the tube causes an embarrassing scream of pain and your fellow passengers shuffling away from you. It wasn’t just the hip flex’s though! My entire body hurt! Every thing! My arms, feet, stomach. I suspect the interviewer thought I was a robot! Why am I doing this running again?

Saturday night involved a housewarming party, the host introduced me to a man who was also running the marathon. Brilliant I thought, I could ask for some tips and judge where I am in my training. Yeah, he didn’t make me feel any better. He was aiming to finish the marathon in 3 and a half hours and is currently up to 16 miles on his long runs. He gave me the pity look! He was trying to be nice but it was as if he was saying ‘I’m sure you won’t die, I’m sure you’ll be fine…umm honestly’ I saw the truth in his eyes though, he was clearly lying!

In order to make my self feel better I posted a question on a running forum website asking if I’m on track etc, the response from seasoned runners wasn’t encouraging. Apparently, if I can’t run 15 mile by the 19^th of March then I will die. Great. So, my new set of marathon goals are:

1.    Get round the marathon

2.    Don’t poo my self

3.    Don’t die

'Do, do do do, do do do...it's the... eye of the tiger!'

8 weeks, 8 WEEKS!

I’m fine, I’m not worried at all, fine, yep, fine, fine, FINE!

Actually, fine never means fine does it? Anyone who says they’re fine is LYING!  What they means is they’re angry or worried or scared or in my case FREAKING OUT!

It’s been a bad week for the running, after the 10 miles last Monday I was feeling pretty smug. Yeah I could run this marathon, I could totally do this, you know what, I could run it twice, hell I’ll sign up for an ultra marathon and run across the Sahara desert, where apparently it’s so hot your trainers melt every few miles and have to be changed!

Yes, I was smug. Smug smug smug!…But then Wednesday came around and I didn’t want to run so I went to see Tangled at the cinema instead. Thursday arrived and I dragged myself out, I managed 5 very hard miles. With every intention to go running again on Friday I wound up eating chocolate and watching movies. But Saturday, it was all going to happen Saturday!

On Saturday I woke up and discovered I have magic powers. It all started with a text to housemate. You see, housemate occasionally (weekly) enjoys a few beverages and returns home late, in a confused state insists on putting the heating on which makes the pipes bang in my room, waking me and turning me in to Mr Hyde, unleashing an unstoppable rampage of a crazy haired, drooling, grumbling monster.

So to prevent this transformation I text housemate and informed him not to turn the heating on in the middle of the night or face death by stiletto. Housemate obeyed but I somehow managed to curse the flat and when I got up in the morning, the entire boiler had died and now needs replacing.  As a result of this I only managed a measly mile long run. This was not the half marathon I was hoping for.

I attempted the half marathon again last night, I got to 6 miles and was going strong but then the plumber called and I had to return home. The boiler has still not been replaced and I smell bad! It’s getting toxic in Clapham, you have been warned! Stay away whilst you can!

I’m currently running to quite a mix of song, one moment I’ve got Baywatch blasting out and the image of David Hasselhoff running along side me and the next Florence is demanding I ‘run fast for my mother, run fast for my father, run for your children for your sisters and brothers, leave all your love and your loving behind you, can't carry it with you if you want to survive’.

But it’s the Rocky, Flashdance and footloose songs which are really seeing me through. Who knew 80’s classics were the way forward!

It’s only when I get half way through the Eye of the tiger that I realise I’ve been punching the air and singing ‘do, do do do’ to myself. I am so glad it’s dark in the evenings!

2 and a half weeks to the half marathon! I’m Scared.

Moral dilemmas

Hello,

How’s your week going? I hope the sun is shining where you are?
Right, so we’re on the big count down now, only 9 weeks to go!

Firstly I think I should probably apologise for last week’s message – wayyyy too much information shared there. Will try and tone it down a bit…

Ok, so last week I was determined to run 10k (6.2 miles) and run without walking for over an hour, with this goal in mind, on yet another dark weekday evening, I set out. The hardest thing about running is leaving my house, here is a list of things that will distract me:

1. Facebook
2. Hotmail
3. More facebook
4. The daily mail website
5. Apple trailers website
6. A phone call
7. A little more facebook
8. A chat to the housemate
9. Random internet stumbling
10. Cleaning my room
11. Staring out of the window
12. I’d probably better check facebook again before I go I guess

So you get the point, I’m easily distracted. But just when I’m about to switch the TV on, a little voice will pop up and remind me just how many weeks I have left, I have this horrible image in my head where I get to mile 3 of the marathon day and can’t go on, so curl up in a ball in the gutter. Shaking and muttering to myself. This image usually gets me out of the door.

About half a mile in to the run, I get this overwhelming need to stop and go home to my bed. Actually this is a recurring theme of my run, it tends to pop up every 5 minutes or so. It’s like my mind is fighting a battle of wills with my body. All I want to do is stop, learn to breathe again and get the hell home! At this point, I suddenly remember that people have sponsored me and actually believe I can do this, so I guess if you have faith in me then I should probably have some too…the legs keep going (just).

Well I over shot the 10k last Tuesday and returned home having done 7.3 mile with no walking at all. I was pretty happy about this. I wasn’t happy in the ice bath afterwards.

I manage another 5.5 miles on Thursday night and was intending to go for a long run on Saturday. Unfortunately I had a little nap on Saturday afternoon and lost the entire day (I think my bed is evil and trying to hold me prisoner!). Sunday was a write-off, hangovers and running do not mix!
Don’t worry though, I pounded the pavements on Monday night and got to 10 miles with no walking, this made me very happy. Well happy until I got in the ice bath and realised my toe was bleeding and I had blisters on top of my blisters. Also the ice bath made me scream in pain, bad times.

In others news, the London marathon people kept emailing me about signing up for a half marathon as it’s ‘good training for the marathon’, after several emails I was brainwashed enough to think it was a good idea. Unfortunately they only had charity places left, I just didn’t think I could raise another £500 but then I found a little charity who only want you to raise £50, well I figured I could just pay that myself and up I signed!

It wasn’t till after I had applied that I realised the charity was for a certain religion that I don’t actually follow. I feel a bit immoral about this but they are still helping people in Africa building schools etc so I’ll just focus on that aspect. They’ve already sent me a bib to wear on the day.

I now have 3 weeks to be ready for the half marathon (13.1 miles), I figure it’s do able, right? 4 laps of the Silverstone race track, sounds a tad dull.

When I first told some of my friends I was doing the marathon, they immediately informed me that I would poo my self – apparently this can happen!
Here are my goals for the marathon:
1. Get round
2. Don’t poo myself

I really want to achieve both of these! (So much for toning it down this week hey!)

Pasta of doom!

With only 10 weeks to go, I decided a monthly update just wasn’t going to cut it, so, welcome to the new weekly update! Excited? Yeah you are!

Having just devoured an entire bag of mini eggs (for energy purposes you understand), I have now moved on to the kiwis, apple and limes smoothie,mmmmmm. As you can see, I am taking the nutritional side of marathon training extremely seriously!

In November I was all action stations, the cupboards were stocked with brown pasta and rice, the fridge had so much spinach that even Popeye would have been jealous and my trusty steamer was cleaned up, ready for some steaming action!

There was no snacking between meals and all I ate was steamed fish or steamed chicken with steamed vegetables and wholemeal pasta. Yes it was dull, but damn it, I have a marathon to run!

Any way, after Christmas I decided it was time to up my game, I could take things further, I could transform my entire body, I could release a celebrity style fitness video, I could change the world! Clearly the running was starting to go to my head. I made the difficult decision to give up chocolate until after the marathon.

About 3 weeks into January, I had an epiphany, clearly I am an idiot!

Who gives up chocolate at the one time in their life that they have a chance of actually burning off the calories?! Surely in a matter of weeks I’ll be running 3 hours a day and burning several thousand calories and will be desperate for a little bit of sugar to see me though? And let’s be honest here, mini eggs!!

It was decided that chocolate was back on the menu! I celebrated this revolution with a triple chocolate sundae. The chocolate binge lasted well over a week, I don’t recall a great deal of it, it’s all a blur of hyperactivity, I know there were highs, I know there were lows but there was chocolate!

Unfortunately, the sugar high couldn’t last, last week the scales revealed the devastating truth of my binge, all 4 bloody pounds of it! I can feel the wholemeal pasta laughing at me from the back of the cupboard.

Back to the running, I managed 4.8 miles of solid running last Tuesday but then the dreaded glands popped up again and put me out for the rest of the week. Having spent most of Saturday in bed, I finally emerged from my room at 5 pm, hands on hips, in full running gear, if I had a cape, it would have been blowing in the wind - super hero style!
5 and a half miles later, I returned home triumphant, if not a little doubled over and gasping for air.

But I ran the whole way with no walking, I’m concentrating on the little mile stones at the moment!

The first run

So it turns out, marathon training is kind of hard! Why did no one tell me this?! Training is not going well, not well at all. In fact I’m sort of freaking out a little! I’ve read the books (well flicked through them at least), studied the websites, brought the kit, eaten way too much wholemeal pasta and yet the actual getting up and running bit is just not really happening!

It all started at the running shop last March...So I went to this specialist running shop on a very wet, dark Thursday. An impossibly fit looking lady took one look at my feet and produced several pairs of trainers. To my horror, she instructed I run up and down the street outside the shop.


In the middle of the city of London, in a suit dress, in the rain, I ran like a penguin up and down the street, trying to weave between the bankers and their enormous umbrellas. I looked like a fool! A FOOL!

A hundred and something quid later and I was the proud owner of trainers, running socks and an ipod arm band.  I was extremely excited about my first run, like a naive child at the dentist before the drill starts! I rushed home from work, pulled on my running kit, (the kit being some old jogging bottoms and an oversized ‘I heart NY’ t-shirt - another classic look for me!) and was ready to go. I froze at the door. What if people saw me running? No one should have to see that! This is going to be so embarrassing!

Eventually I mastered my fear, crawled out from under the bed and believing that my headphones acted as some sort of invisibility cloak, off I set.


I was intending to jog down to Clapham common, run around the park and return home. A nice easy 4k run to start me off... Oh my god! Seriously, it was horrific! I got to the end of the block and thought I might actually die, a quick U-turn and I returned to my building (why oh why do I live on the third floor!). It wasn’t a pretty sight, I was spitting, sweating, could barely breath, my chest hurt. It took hours to recover, actual hours, maybe days. I looked like a tomato! I’d only run for 5 minutes. It was less than half a mile! Not having run since the age of 15 probably didn’t help matters.

Thankfully things have improved slightly since then. The running look has actually got worse, I now have a very snazzy black head sweat band to keep my ears warm, which works perfectly with my black running leggings and black thermal top. It’s a great look, I like to think I look like a ninja! The training has been very up and down, November saw the pavements freeze over and turn to ice which meant no running for weeks. I did manage a run on Christmas day (a bad idea after a breakfast of chocolate) and by the first week of January I was on my game! 2 x 45 mins runs in the week and an 8 ½ mile run/walk on the weekend, it was looking as though maybe, just maybe I could do this marathon.

Then disaster struck, I got the January lurgy, 2 weeks of swollen glands, snot and temperatures meant no running at all. I attempted to go for 9 miles on Saturday and only managed 2. Agghhh I’m back to running around the block! With only 11 weeks to go, I’m scared!