One Big Fat Run

The last weekend of the month means it’s One Big Fat Run (#OBFR) time. #OBFR is a monthly virtual 5k. You can read more about it via the link above or search for it on Facebook. Anyway, the plan was to do 6 x 800 metres with 3 minute walk breaks in-between as my #OBFR – it would amount to nearly 5k of running and would overall be more in terms of distance – but close enough. Alternatively, if we also managed to get out for a 45  run on Sunday, I’d use that. We set off on Saturday, walked down to the canal and set off for the first 800 metres. All fine. Then we walked for 3 minutes, turned round a little earlier than we really wanted so as not to get tangled up with a group of dog walkers, set off running for the second 800 metres. All fine for the first 500 metres. Then I felt a little niggle along my left shin. Then, with maybe 150 metres to go, a sharp pain across my left shin and simultaneously a twinge just below my butt on the right. It brought me to a halt.

I was so upset and pissed off. Just when the running was actually going quite well I was going to be injured. I had a little panic and strop and walked home grumpily. There was no pain when walking and no pain when I ran my hand across my shin – so maybe it was ok after all. I did a few stretches on Saturday and had a busy day in the garden. I then did almost nothing at all on Sunday other than a walk to the sheep. I felt a bit crappy for not getting my #OBFR done at the weekend but I slept lots so maybe I just needed a rest.

Today we went out at lunchtime to run a 45 minute loop. We did our sheep loop the ‘wrong’ way round. We set off and it was fine, no pain and feeling relatively comfortable. I managed to run downhill slowly without too much of a panic and settled in along the canal. Mile 1 was fine. We had agreed before that we would walk up the golf course from the car park but that still meant I had to get up to the car park! I started struggling from probably about a mile and a half in. I don’t think I was struggling physically, I think it was all in my head and I couldn’t make my legs go faster or even keep at the pace I was at. I was still breathing fine and my legs were a little heavy but ok but my brain wouldn’t work. As we crossed the canal bridge and started the shortish sharpish hill to the car park I thought I’d never make it but gave myself a bit of a talking to, gritted my teeth and pushed. I got to the top and then we walked.

At this point everything sort of hurt but not really. I didn’t really want to walk up the golf course, I most certainly didn’t want to have to start running again when I got to the top. But to the top I did eventually get and run I did. Slowly. I knew I was physically fine. I wasn’t finding it physically hard – I knew this because I was breathing fine and my legs felt ok and yet my brain was telling me that it was far too hard and I couldn’t do it and I needed to walk. I didn’t walk, not yet. We made it past the sheep and up the little slope when Kath called a walk break. I’d just surrendered here and did as I was told. I didn’t want to think or make decisions. I was quite happy to run when told and walk when told. Kath took us towards home with 1minute/1minute run/walk intervals. As we hit the bottom of Ilkley Road something clicked in my brain and I decided I wanted to run home from there – up the slope, all the way, just because I can. At times for those last few minutes it felt like I was going backwards. Any slower and I would have been rooted to the spot. I was screaming at myself (in my head, not out loud, I don’t think) to just stop and walk and then screaming back that I didn’t bloody well want to walk.

So with head down and terrible running form I pushed up the last little bit of the hill and turned the corner into our road. I looked up, straightened my back and kept putting one foot in front of the other and just as the watch beeped for 45 minutes I stepped onto our drive. 3.23miles, one of my slowest 45 minutes ever but done.

This run was not about being physically able to run a certain time or distance – I am perfectly capable of running 45 minutes or 5km. This run was all about the mental. Running is mostly about learning to take your mind with a pinch of salt and not believing everything it tells you. I am far more likely to be convinced by the negative messages about not being able to do it than I am by the positives. When I am not in a good frame of mind and when I have self-doubt I need to really focus on doing the opposite of mind over matter because it’s my mind that needs pushing on and/or ignoring. I proved to myself that I can do that today by running up Ilkley Road when before that, really, I’d given up. I’m proud of that because not so long ago I would have given up on the golf course and just walked home. Now I just need to find a way to get to that point sooner. I need to think about what changed mentally when I turned into Ilkley Road. What made me decide that I wanted to and decide that I can? What made me lose it on the golf course? Up to that point I’d struggled but managed to keep pushing. What could I have done there to make the walk a positive (it was planned in anyway) and then keep running after without having to drop into intervals? Why can’t it just be simple – you know like run a certain distance regularly = distance becomes easy…

Still #OBFR is a fabulous thing. Without it I may have come up with all sorts of excuses to not run at all today and it gives me a monthly 5k marker which gives me the opportunity to reflect on all things running and most of all it reminds me that there are lots of others at various stages of their own running journeys and we’re not in this on our own.

….but look at the bling

I don’t quite now how this happened. I don’t quite know how to explain this. And I am sorry. Really I am but I seem to have been totally and utterly reeled in by this medal business. Running is not about the medals, of course it’s not, it’s about the exercise, the way it chases away my little head gremlins and kicks that silly black puppy into touch, it’s about being outside, moving, learning new ways that my wibbly wobbly body is awesome, learning to push through when it gets tough, breathing… Oh but it so so so so is about the medals.

For a good few weeks I have pretended not to care at all about what the medals for our next races might be like. I have told people in Facebook groups to chill out and just wait. I have suggested that it might actually be quite nice not to see the medal before we actually get it… And then runDisney released pictures of medals for races I am not doing. Oooh look at the shiny pretty things…Have I gone completely totally and utterly insane? I mean really? Since when is shiny pretty things even a thing. I have never done shiny pretty things. And then this happened: runDisney released the Inaugural Disneyland Paris Half Marathon Weekend medals.

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Photo from RunDisney

But just look, just look at this. I mean just look. It’s all pretty and shiny. And  and and , well, just look. Now I’ll run 13.1 miles for that. No, I really will because something in my brain has broken and I see the bling and think it’s pretty and shiny and I want it.

And it doesn’t stop there. Look at this

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Photo by RunDisney

Want want want want want. Yes, I have gone mad. It’s also making me want to watch the film again. Just look at the medal. Yep, I’ll run 5km for that. Who wouldn’t?! Oh wait, hang on, this isn’t normal is it. What is wrong with me.

As for this:

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Photo by RunDisney

I may have run round in circles making funny squeaky noises when I first saw this. Before telling myself to get a grip of course. I do not understand why I am even in the slightest excited about the medals. I mean, really?!? This is the sort of thing I roll my eyes at. But just look…

And I realise I’m about to hugely overdo it but just look at these:

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Photo by RunDisney

These are shiny and pretty too! And I am going for them in November. Until then I think I better go lock myself in a room and hope this obsession with pretty and shiny passes.

 

Yellow Shoes Run and a redstart

I have just got back from a brilliant little run at Bolton Abbey. We wanted to do our RunDisney Shorts virtual run somewhere nice and fun and not take it seriously at all! so after a lovely little yoga session (Morning Stretches for Back Pain from Yoga Studio) we set off and drove to Bolton Abbey. It was a little overcast but dry and actually looked like it would turn into a gorgeous morning.

So we set off from the Cavendish Pavilion and walked to the top of the first slope – we were meant to be having fun after all, not killing ourselves on the first hill!. We had changed the intervals to try running a bit longer – so running for 2.5 mins and walking for a minute. I thought I might not notice as much if we sneaked in an increase on our fun run and I was planning on stopping for pictures anyway.

The colours were fantastic and the smell of the wild garlic really strong in some places.

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The trees and ferns seemed to offer every imaginable shade of green and brown and we couldn’t help but stop and stare every now and again.

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We pootled on alongside the Wharfe and up to the Strid where this little hill thankfully coincided with a walk break and I just about had time to stop at the top, turn around and take the picture.

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Onwards and downhill a bit – I have to admit, I was scared going downhill – probably even more than usual after my fall last week but it was all fine and soon we came out of the wood and into the open with the aqueduct just ahead of us. This must be roughly half way – obligatory selfie as we crossed the river.

 

 

Just past the aqueduct on the other side of the Wharfe a group of people were standing with binoculars pointed into the trees. We asked if they could see anything good and they said they could see a male redstart and were even kind enough to let us have a look through their binoculars. I’ve never seen a redstart before so that was really exciting and we continued on our way with a spring in our step.

This stretch of the route is what you might politely call ‘undulating’. I call it fucking hilly. I managed to stick to all the intervals and just kept going lost in my own little world just letting my mind wander. And then we came to my nemesis.

Annoyingly it does not look like all that much on the photos but trust me, it’s a bastard. It has literally brought me to my knees and to tears in the past. Today we were having fun so we walked it, took a picture at the top and then headed off again. Downhill and flat from there!

We completed our 3.1miles, or 5km with lots of photo stops and stops to look at birds and the scenery in exactly 45.5 minutes. It was a slow but really lovely run and we have earned our Yellow Shoes Medal (although Valley of Desolation doesn’t sound very Disney, does it?!?)

We celebrated with coffee and breakfast at the Cavendish Pavilion sitting outside in the gorgeous sunshine.

The week after the marathon

The ballot for the London Marathon 2017 opened today. Oh that excitement of will I or won’t I get in, it was almost tempting and then I remembered: I don’t want to get in. A week and a day after the marathon and I have absolutely no desire to run that distance ever again. It hasn’t been a ‘never again…oooh look a marathon’ sort of scenario. I’ve done it twice – that’s twice more than I ever thought I would! That’ll do!

It’s been a funny week. I perfected a sort of penguin shuffle over the first few days until the stiffness eased and I could walk normally again. I learned that touching your toes is a privilege and not a right (I could barely reach past my knees) and I felt totally lost for a couple of days and tired for the entire week. I craved salty stuff for a day or two – crisps mainly and anything with carbs and then my sweet tooth kicked in and I just wanted chocolate and cake and biscuits. I didn’t want big meals, I just wanted to eat constantly. I was looking forward to a glass or two of wine but when it came to it wasn’t really bothered. I’m still not fussed really.

Looking back at marathon day is also a funny old business. I am remembering things I didn’t immediately after when I wrote the race review and my perception of the day is shifting a little now the pain has worn off. The memories that are sticking are the good ones. I remember the rhinos – oh the rhinos. They were fabulous. I think we were probably overtaken by all of them in the end but we spent a lot of time close to rhinos. I don’t know how the guys managed to run in those ‘costumes’ – more like contraptions really (sorry if you have no idea what I am talking about).  I remember the crowds through Greenwich and I remember the first person to call my name – a little boy maybe aged 10 shouting ‘go Jessica!’. I remember all the high 5s offered by the kids and my inability to be grumpy about being in pain and then making the effort to run over to the kids even when I felt like I couldn’t move another step.

I remember the cutty sark and looping round it, smiling to myself and I remember really wanting the Too Fat to Run cheering station to come because I needed a boost. I remember the feeling of being supported and cheered on. I don’t remember the  disappointment at not being able to run across Tower Bridge, I remember going across Tower Bridge, taking it in and looking at it as if I’d never seen it before and I remember going past mile 15 thinking ‘ ok well, not going to plan but I’m doing this!’ I remember at mile 16 setting my heart on finishing and I remember remembering  – probably at around mile 18 – a t-shirt I’d seen during my first half marathon which said ‘Pain is temporary, knees are replaceable but glory is eternal’.

I remember my blister popping at about mile 21 as I decided to use the roar of the crowds to just try another little run and I remember emerging from the tunnel, I remember the Thames and how gorgeous London looked on the day. I remember how lovely it was to see Sarah and Mark out on the course – friendly faces also on this journey. I don’t really remember Buckingham Palace, I just remember the crowd and the noise and then seeing the finish line and Kath turning to me and saying ‘Starwars theme tune?’ and I think I laughed and maybe it did play in my head as I crossed the line. (See my Dopey half marathon post for an explanation of this. Edited: Actually it’s not there – we crossed the finish line to the star wars theme tune and it’s the best ever! Was it the marathon? Hm!). I remember the bloke giving me my medal – actually putting it round my neck. I remember saying thank you over and over again and him laughing at me telling me well done.

As the days have gone on, the time it took or the fact that it didn’t all go to plan have become far less important. I look back on the day with fondness and the overwhelming emotion looking back is happiness. I wouldn’t swap that experience for anything – doesn’t mean I want to do it again though! So if you’re sitting there wondering if maybe you should enter the ballot, do it. There isn’t really a good reason not to. Well actually there are 1000s of good reasons not to but none of them matter. I’m happy, really happy I’ve done it and even happier I don’t have to do it again!

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That number will forever be my marathon PB. I am done with that distance but I am also an official London Marathon finisher. I have to say, writing that feels pretty good. So here is how it went.

Today seems to have started in another life time. After a pretty bad night’s sleep we got sorted, did some yoga and set off. The tube and DLR ride took about 30 mins, the walk to the assembly area another 15 or so. We went to the loos, sat for a bit and then handed in our bags, then we sat a bit more. We entered the starting pens about 9.45 and soon we were moving forwards and then we were off, just like that we were running the London Marathon.

The first 5 miles were fabulous, we kept going with the flow for a while and then stopped at the loos just before mile 1. The early loo stop strategy had really worked for us during Dopey so we adopted it here. Then we went on. I got to just before mile 6 and suddenly felt really poorly. I couldn’t really explain but it felt like I was going to pass out. It wasn’t poor fuelling or hydration, I know from training runs that feels different. I actually thought I was going to have to stop there and then. I took an extra walk break and then we were at the Cutty Sark and the crowds lifted me a bit and I could keep going. I did have to put in extra walks though. Again the thought I might not make it crossed my mind.

Just before mile ten was the Too Fat to Run cheering station and I needed that. I got a big hug and lots of high fives and then we were gone. I was ok for a mile or so and then the funny feeling came back. Not quite dizzy, not quite nausea, not quite anything  but most definitly not quite right. Kath said she thought I should stop. I didn’t want to. We pushed on. We walked most of Tower Bridge, I’d wanted to run it but I just couldn’t. Half way came. There were other runners going the opposite way on the other side of the road, they were at 22 ish miles and I longed to be there and wondered if I would be, didn’t seem likely.

At 14 miles I was ready to quit. I just didn’t feel right. I don’t know why I didn’t stop, too stubborn maybe. I just kept walking and crying, I did a lot of crying around mile 14.   We agreed we’d keep walking for a bit and see if I could continue. So we did, we walked, we walked fast, as fast as we could and every now and again I managed a little jog, just to the next traffic lights, just to the km or mile marker, just to the bus stop. Every bit of me was screaming to stop but that’s how we ticked off the miles, one after the other, 15, 16,17 and then we saw 18 and I’d decided I wanted to finish. I felt better in myself, no longer not quite right but just fatigued and my hips, lower back and thighs had had enough, but 19 miles came and so did 20 and then it began to seem possible.

I walked most of the Dopey marathon and that was miserable. This wasn’t really miserable, we had a few giggles along the way and I tried to take it all in. The crowds were fantastic and hearing people call out your name helps massively. So no, not miserable but also not quite what I’d had in mind. I didn’t want to be in this much pain and this knackered at 20 miles. But then maybe I should have got my arse of the sofa and trained more…

21 came, then 22, 23 seemed to take forever but it did come as did 24. Just over two miles left running along slowly but running quite often now, the Thames on my left, the familiar views, the embankment, 25 miles. As well as my lower back, hips and thighs my right ankle has now had enough and my left calf is seriously unhappy and still, somehow I jog more in the last mile than I have the previous 12. Somehow, I make it, somehow I run across the finish line. And cry, and then giggle and then do both at the same time.

All the time Kath has been by my side, talking to me. I know she’s in pain, she must be if my back is this bad but she keeps pushing me on, keeps reminding me that we are Dopey and that together we can do anything. She’ll never get the credit I do for running the marathon because she won’t shout about it as much but really she ran it for us both today. She broke through her pain barrier and mine and kept us putting one foot in front of the other.

Could I have done better today? I could have trained better but as things stood going into the marathon, no I couldn’t have. I had nothing left, I didn’t hold anything back. I left everything I had out there on the streets of London and I am bloody proud that we finished, finished running across the line.

We were meant to go to an after party for the Ron Pickering Memorial Fund but neither of us felt very well and it took us ages just to walk to get our bags. We wanted to come back to the hotel, stretch, have a bath, eat etc. So we did. I’d love to tell you I’m out celebrating but I’ve had a little bottle of peroni, gallons of water and I’m ready for bed!

So not the greatest marathon ever but if you think slogging it out and not giving up counts for something, you can still support me here: My page: http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/jessguth

thank you.