Category: Depression

To Run Every Day – or Not

Jess GuthLeave a comment

Thought I’d posted this on Sunday – obviously not!

Today marks the start of the Ronhill #RunEveryDay October Challenge. We’d talked about this a while ago and thought it might be fun to see how we get on with it. We’ve never really done a run streak and there are of course some pretty good reasons for that – mostly that rest days are pretty important for recovery and for getting stronger and staying injury free. I also don’t think I have the motivation or discipline. While the initial attraction wore off and I’d forgotten all about it, the temptation has sneaked back in now that October is here.

However, the wheels have come off a little in our house. Work has been busy. I know how this works – the terms starts and insanity kicks in for a couple of weeks and everything seems chaotic and too busy and a bit silly. This year is no different but it always gets me. So I’ve been tired and working long hours and Kath, who had been making great progress, has been floored by nothing in particular. So between us making time and finding the headspace and motivation to run has been difficult. I didn’t run all week and I think that is having an impact on my mental health. I need to get out there, it helps me cope.

Last Sunday we went for a run at Bolton Abbey after the 9 mile up and down of the day before, doing one 4 mile loop slowly and with a fair bit of walking was quite enough and I felt quite sore after. On Monday I made it to the gym and stretched loads. That was it for the week. We were thinking about going yesterday but spent most of the day asleep.

This morning we watched the Aussie Rugby League Grand Final and then we went for our run. We were going to go the sheep loop and the first mile was ok but then my feet started hurting, it didn’t really ease with walking either. I’ve tried the Mizuno trail shoes several times now and I keep thinking they’ll be ok but I think I just need to accept that they are too tight for my feet. So 2.2 miles in I gave up and we walked back. Goodness it was nice to take the shoes off and massage my feet!

We had lunch and watched something on telly – can’t even remember what – and then we went out again. We had to nip to the shop to get something for tea and for in the morning because we haven’t been shopping, we weren’t going to be at home this weekend, and thought we might as well run. It was a good 3 mile run at a decent pace. Mile 1 and 3 are pretty even at just under 12 minute mile pace and mile 2 was a bit slower  – probably because it included the downhill where I go a bit bambi-ish. It felt good to go out again and finish on a positive.

We grabbed some crusty bread, smoked salmon and hummus and walked back up the hill. So we covered a total of 8.05 miles today. I actually have some time to run tomorrow and probably on Tuesday, too so I may have a mini run streak. I don’t think I’ll run every day though, I need rest and I need to not be injured. Maybe my October can be #RunMoreDaysThanOtherMonthsButDon’tGoSilly. Catchy that.

Sunday Weigh in News: Last week I’d lost 3 pounds. This week, well if you take my weight this morning it was up by a pound but I couldn’t resist sneaking back on after the second run and if you take that I am the same as last week.

 

Fiddlesticks Fartlek

Jess GuthLeave a comment

Well well well. Today it said something a bit scary on the plan Kath has drawn up for me. It said: RW Fartlek. So that’s the structured fartlek I thought I’d outlined previously. I’ve just checked and I’ve outlined all sorts but not that session! Anyway, all will become clear below! I was a little apprehensive about it but I was also looking forward to seeing how I’d do. Kath has been doing fairly regular sessions and it seems to be helping her improve speed. So after a fairly lazy slow start to the morning we got up, had half a banana and set off. The first bit is a 10 minute warm up so we ran down to the canal taking it fairly easy. Then the first fast section is 5 minutes followed by a minute 30 secs break. I found that hard but ok, towards the end my tummy rumbled dangerously but was fine and then my mind went.

I walked after the 5 minutes and I started the 4 minutes but barely even did a minute before my mind shut me down. I just couldn’t make myself do it. I really wanted to do it and I really didn’t at the same time. There was the usual snot and tears of a meltdown and we sat on a bench for a while and watched some swans. Then I walked home with my tail between my legs. I wanted to just curl up in bed and ignore the world.

I hate that feeling of my mind getting the better of me in that way. It makes me feel weak and pathetic and quite a bit stupid. So I resolved that I wanted to try again later on in the day. We had a South American brunch and then I caught up on several back issues of Runner’s World and Trail Running Magazine. Eventually I was ready to go again. Apprehensive this time- well scared as hell that I wouldn’t be able to do it. I pulled my trainers on and off we went.

  • 10 minute warm up: 12.43 pace;
  • 5 minutes: 10.27;
  • 1minute 30 second rest
  • 4 minutes: 10.18 pace;
  • 1minute 30 second rest
  • 3 minutes: 10.18 pace;
  • (then 5.5 minute rest);
  • 2 minutes: 9.52 pace;
  • 1minute 30 second rest
  • 1.5 minutes: 9.47 pace;
  • 1minute 30 second rest
  • 1 minute: 9.29 pace;
  • 1minute 30 second rest
  • 30 seconds: 8.37 pace;
  • 1 minute rest
  • 30 seconds: 7.39 pace.
  • 10 minute cool down (mostly walked and stopped for picture with swans) 15.16 pace – yes I did sort of manage to get back up.

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So what’s the lesson here? My mind is sometimes idiotic and stupid and sometimes I can’t do anything about that. My mind is also determined and focused and sometimes it can do pretty much anything. Anyway, that’s a total of 4 miles for the full fartlek session, another 1.5 miles from this morning and then the walking. It’ll be interesting to see how I do when I repeat this session in a month’s time. Funny sort of running day but it’s done and I feel good about having gone out again and done it. Black puppy dog put firmly in its place

Oh yeah, it’s Sunday – I was supposed to have a saintly week – I didn’t. The scales are still resolutely staying the same.

Running Meltdown again

Jess Guth1 Comment

Two miles into my 10k run I was sat on my arse at the edge of the River Wharfe with tears running down my face trying to focus on a little chaffinch in the tree in front of me. Yep, running meltdown – again. I wasn’t even really aware I was struggling. We’d had a lovely first mile with a little stop to watch a deer for a few minutes and I felt fine really. My legs were a bit tight but really, nothing dramatic. We were running at the Bolton Abbey Estate and had just gone under the aqueduct when panic set in. I said that I thought I should go back, we walked a bit, then I stopped completely and then Kath sat me down. So there I was, not quite 2 miles in. FFS.

This mental wobble I can’t explain. I didn’t see it coming, I had been looking forward to being out, it was a gorgeous day and the sun on my face was lovely. But all of a sudden my black puppy pounced and got me. I couldn’t dodge her or outrun her. She just attached herself to me and growled. So I sat and looked at the chaffinch; a sweet little thing right at the end of the branch, silent mostly. At the time I thought it was a female but I’m not sure now. It might have been a male but I just couldn’t see the colours because I was looking into the sun. It was really more of a chaffinch silhouette. Slowly I began to realise that I had stopped panicking. Slowly I decided that I could probably manage to go on. So on we went. It was ok for a while, a short while and then doubts crept back in. The puppy was keeping pace but then we saw a heron and walked so we could see him better – he rotated slowly so he could keep an eye on us. Onwards. We stopped again at Barden bridge and watched some ducklings and some goslings – all neatly lined up in a row between the parents. Then we continued.

It was ok for a bit and then it was ok for a bit longer. We had a few little walks along the way but I tried to keep going. The puppy was somewhere but she was keeping her distance now and as we stopped to watch a pied flycatcher she disappeared completely. As we saw lots more birds I tried to remember that this is why I run out there. If we wanted to run fast, we’d go to a track Kath rightly pointed out. Running out there is not about pace or even really distance, it’s just about being out there. I mean really being there.

I agreed that we would stop at the Pavilion rather than go further and aim for the 10k. I knew that would be about 4.5 miles. I decided I wanted to do 5. I informed Kath of that as we came onto the flat out of the wood and ran alongside the Wharfe. We kept going along that path but soon turn round to head across the bridge to the Pavilion so that we didn’t have to run through a whole load of people. To get the distance we ran passed our car and along the car park. The puppy caught up. In my head she was running rings round me trying to trip me up shouting ‘hahaha you can’t do this’. My tummy gurgled dangerously but I focused on the image of the puppy and kept thinking ‘you’re wrong’. My legs felt heavy and my mind kept wanting to give in but eventually, after what seemed like forever, my watch beeped for the 5 miles.

I have felt focused and strong for the rest of the day and I have rattled through the first batch of marking really well. I left my puppy licking her wounds somewhere out there. She’ll be back I’m sure, but not today. Today I won!

Mind Over Matter

Jess Guth3 Comments

So I entered the London Marathon ballot and then headed for the trails. It was meant to be a repeat of the awesome 5.5 mile loop we did the other day and I was looking forward to it. We set off and it was ok and then it wasn’t. By the time we got 3/4 of the way across the golf course I was in meltdown. We sat for 10 minutes, I had a little cry and then continued. I made it down the hill and across the fields but a little way along the canal I lost it again and gave up. We walked home. I’d sort of run/waddled about 3 miles by then and my tummy was bubbling and my calf muscles were tight but to be honest that wasn’t the problem. The problem was in my head, all in my head. Now that I am back I feel so disappointed and cross with myself but that’s the running game I guess. I’ll just keep playing.

Later

I sat on the sofa a bit grumpy for a while, had some brunch and then wondered whether it was sensible to have another go. I felt physically fine. My legs felt ok, my ankle was a little tired – I think that’s the best way to describe it – but otherwise it was all good. I asked Kath what she thought. She didn’t want to go again because her ankle was a bit niggly so if I was was going to do this it would have to be on my own. I hate being defeated by anything depression or anxiety related so I felt like I needed to have another go and leave the head gremlins out there somewhere.

I set off having agreed that I would see how I felt once I got to the turn off for the trail and text Kath and let her know if I was doing the shorter sheep loop or the longer trail. I felt pretty good so went up. I walked the steepest bits and then headed across the golf course. Slowly but surely I made progress. I ran it all and still felt pretty good when I got to the other side. I plodded up the slope to the gate, once through I walked up across the field to the wall, climbed over and then jogged down the trail through the wood. I still very much dislike downhill and this is pretty steep. I was going very slow I think but I kept moving all the way which was my aim. Here are some images from the wood section – doesn’t look that steep. Hm.

 

IMG_4965
Looking back across the fields I’d just run

Once at the bottom I made my way across three fields, running (well plodding) it all and just stopping to open and close the gates. There’s nothing like  field full of geese to make you go a bit faster – luckily they just stared but stayed where they were. I got onto the track and made it onto the canal. In terms of actual running I was now on the easy bit – pretty well maintained, flat canal towpath. Yay. I was beginning to get a little tired which isn’t really that surprising given that I was on a total of about 8miles for the day at this point. Still I was plodding

IMG_4967
Track after the fields just before left turn to canal

quite nicely putting in a 15 second walk here and there. Then I saw people ahead, a big group of people and my heart sank. I’d been doing well mentally since about half way across the golf course where I’d decided I was doing this and had counted my way out of a rough patch. I did not want people. Why the hell were there people going for a walk. Outrageous! I put in a short walk break, took some deep breaths and started running again. I said a few ‘excuse mes’ and ‘thank yous’ and weaved my way through the group and kept going. Anxiety levels were sky high but nobody said anything. Nobody laughed. I kept going.

As I was approaching the golf course bridge, I thought I might cross there and walk up the golf course and go back that way because it was likely to be quieter and there were more people walking along the canal, there were also a fair few canal boats. However, as I got to the bridge it was open for a boat to go through and I didn’t want to stop. So canal towpath it was. Onwards. It was definitely getting harder now but I still kept to just a few short walk breaks and focused on landmarks to run to – a tree here, a wall there, IMG_4973then I concentrated and catching up with and going past a canal boat, then the bench in the distance. As I was heading for the bench there was an alarming gurgle in my tummy, then another and another. I made it to the bench, stopped my watch, stopped, closed my
eyes and squeezed my butt… Either this was going to induce disaster or avert it. I wasn’t entirely sure but whatever was going to happen was going to happen. I opened one eye, then the other and breathed a sigh of relief. Crisis averted. I decided to have a little break before tackling the last mile.

I sat on the bench for a few minutes, let the canal boat I’d over taken earlier catch up and then raced it to the bridge (I lost on purpose so I could have another little break waiting for them to open the bridge to go through and close it again so I could cross). Then I marched up the hill stopping briefly to reply to the last in a series of lovely and encouraging texts from Kath, jogged down the slope and came up Ilkley Road run/walking post to post. I had a quick chat with one of our neighbours and ran the last few metres to our drive. Phew. So that was tough. I was definitely getting tired by the end and my tummy was a little dodgy BUT I left the gremlins out there on the golf course somewhere and I did it on my terms. I needed that run.

I suspect I might feel this tomorrow. I’m heading for a bath shortly. I’ve had some food and put my compression socks on for a bit. I’ll do some more stretches before bed too. I’m glad I did the 10.6 miles today but I really am looking forward to not running tomorrow.

 

 

8 Year Old Me

Jess Guth1 Comment

I felt pretty good after running 8 miles yesterday. My legs were perhaps a little tired but nothing major. I therefore thought a slow recovery jog on the flat would be nice. I hit the afternoon slump about 3pm ish so that seemed like a good time to go.

We ran down to the canal and to the stone bridge and then back to the bridge and walked up the hill home. The run was 3.72 miles and it was 12.10 minutes per mile pace.

All good then

No, not really. That was mentally horrible. As soon as we got onto the canal my little black puppy got hold of me good and proper and kept telling me how crap I was at this and that I’d always been crap. Then somehow it unearthed a memory I didn’t even know I had. I was taken back to being about 8 years old ( I think, I’m note entirely sure I was 8 but in my memory that feels about right) and having, for the second time in my life, been asked to and not managed to run 800 metres in a PE lesson. That in itself wasn’t too bad. I don’t remember being that bothered. I was good at other things but then my PE teacher made a big deal out of it, telling the whole year group that once again I had failed to run 800 metres and that it really would be something special if I ever managed it – not that she gave me any tools to try and learn to run 800 metres. I never tried again, not while I was at school anyway.

That memory was most unhelpful. I spiralled further. Every step was an effort. It felt like I had to drag my feet out of setting concrete. At one point I asked for a walk break and then changed my mind. We were running into a headwind and I was struggling to breathe but actually physically I was going ok. The stone bridge finally came although I’m sure the universe kept moving it further back. We turned round and for a few seconds it felt better. I felt like maybe I was outrunning the puppy… But then it renewed its efforts. I knew I was running well physically but my mind shut me down. I couldn’t put one foot in front of the other any longer. I walked. I got cross. I got upset. I started running again. I found a rhythm  somehow and just kept moving. Slowly, slowly that memory of 8 year old me turned into something else. You see, I can run 800 metres now. I probably could at the time but nobody actually explained to me how. I made it to a point that I happen to know is 800 metres from where we were going to finish (from previous 800 metre repeats) and I ran the last 800 metres for 8 year old me. I ran them fast and I ran them strong and inside there was a little 8 year old fist pumping and jumping up and down with excitement – even as I pretty much collapsed on the bridge trying to suck in the oxygen.