Yorkshire Dales running day

I went for a little run today which felt a bit silly because Kath was on a big run. It was the Due North Burnsall Half. So while Kath was making her way over 13 and a bit miles of up and down some Dales bumps, I plodded along the river for three quarters of a mile. Not quite the same but still a stroke of genius on my part. In my head today was always about Kath’s run and me supporting her. But I also hadn’t run yesterday because I somehow just ran out of steam in the afternoon. I also didn’t run on Wednesday or Thursday because I am utterly useless at getting my arse out the door after work at the moment. So I sort of felt I should really run today and for ages I couldn’t see how I would make that happen. Until yesterday evening when it dawned on my that if my run is 30 minutes and Kath is out on a lumpy bumpy half, I will have loads of time to see her off, go for my little plod, get back, have coffee and cake at one of my favourite cafes and welcome her back at the finish.

So that’s what I did. I’ve done 3 runs of running a minute and walking 90 seconds 8 times now so it is time to try the next set of intervals on the plan. I’ll see how I feel because my knee started niggling again the other day although it was mostly fine today. I probably turned round one run too early as I ended up with a bit of a random loop but had I continued I would have been that really annoying person who comes past you on a path and then almost immediately stops and turns round. So I turned before I got tangled up in a group of hikers. After my run I had coffee and banana and pecan cake at Riverbank Burnsall. If you ever find yourself in this part of the world, pop in. The cake is always excellent and I have had worse views drinking my coffee!

After coffee and cake I went back to the finish area, wandered around a little, read through a paper that I need to revise and resubmit to let it whirl round my brain a bit and watched the first 10km runners come in. After a while I got bored just sitting so walked down to the river and back. There was now a steady stream of half marathon finishers coming through so I stood at the finish and clapped them in. I heard lots of mutterings about ‘bloody hills’ and the run being hard, oh and those ‘bloody hills’. There was some shaking of heads as people crossed the finish line – mostly in disbelief rather than disappointment I think and a few ‘I’m not doing that again’ or ‘I did not like that’ comments. One poor guy who wasn’t local had done all his training on the flat. He seemed a little overwhelmed (as well as knackered). All those initial ‘fuck that was hard’ sentiments seemed to quickly melt away into exhausted but happy chatter all around me. Everyone seemed to agree that it was a brilliant but brutal course.

I spotted Kath coming over the iconic Burnsall bridge – well it is iconic if you’re from round here – you see the bridge, you know its Burnsall. Anyway, I saw her run across the bridge and make her way into the field and down the finishing stretch where I met her with a big hug she didn’t really want. (I should know this. I mean the last thing you want when you are trying to work out whether you are going to puke, fall over or cry and in what order is someone giving you a big squeeze hug – but I was excited to see her and didn’t think). It was a hard fought one for her and I am very proud of her. She’s so good at doing hard things. We picked up her goody bag and her well earned Cornish pasty and sat for a little while. Then I drove us home and have tried to help with recovery by providing food, an ice pack, water, cups of tea and kind words. Somehow I am very tired now. I shouldn’t be. I had a little plod and then spent most of the rest of the day doing very little.

Anyway, I can highly recommend the Due North events and now that there is a 10k option I might have a go myself. Those hills scare me a bit, the runs seem way more impossible than a road marathon but if I can get myself running fit then why not? Why not add another impossible thing to the list of impossibles I would like to do.

London Marathon – Ballot entry But Why

It’s that time of year again – London Marathon Ballot time. I have entered. Of course I have entered. It’s almost a ritual now and of course I won’t get in because most people don’t get in most years. But what if I did? I’ve been thinking about that because, as I may have mentioned, I really did not like my 2019 London Marathon. I have said several times that, unpopular as that opinion may be, I don’t actually like the London Marathon. And yet… So I have been thinking about that. Because if I really didn’t want to have another go, then why enter the ballot – just makes it even harder for people who actually do want to run it to get a spot. But there is part of me that does want to run it. There is a part of me that wants to go back and put the demons of 2019 to bed. And I don’t mean that I need to be faster than 2019 or anything like that. It’s more that I would like the race to leave me with more positive memories. Because memory of races is funny isn’t it. What I remember from the 2019 London Marathon is not that the first few miles were pretty good or that I got to 11 miles without any issues and feeling pretty solid and that I had my shit together. What I remember is missing Kath, slipping on Lucazade and hurtling to the ground, the pain in my hip and moving forward to the finish just because that was the only thing I could logistically think of to do.

So let’s stop there a second… I had my shit together, I was running well, I stopped for a pee and lost a lot of time and from there on in struggled to get my head right again. I fell, I was in pain and yet, I went on to finish. I look at that now and can’t really quite believe that was me. I can now step back and admire the strength. It didn’t feel like strength at the time but it was. Re-reading the blogs from the 2019 marathon still makes me emotional. I wrote that all the way round I wasn’t sure I wanted it enough and also that I was probably done with marathons. I think that was absolutely true and how I felt at the time but things have shifted. The world has changed and I have changed and I think I’m beginning to see more and more clearly what running far gives me that nothing else quite can. I miss the clarity of thought that comes with it. I miss the feeling of being able to do it. I miss the confidence in what my body can do, what my mind can do, what I can do. I am back where I started when we trained for our first Dopey – I want to do a marathon because I don’t believe I can. I want it because it’s impossible. I want it for me because people like me don’t run marathons.

And London, why London. I could pick any marathon. Well, that 15 mile marker and I have unfinished business, I still haven’t run across Tower Bridge or along the Embankment and I want to. As much as what I wrote in 2019 resonates, I also want to believe in the power and magic of one of the most iconic marathons in the world. If I do get another chance at running it, maybe my first one in 2016 can be my London Overwhelmed, my second one in 2019 can be my London Grumpy and my third could be London Happy. I’m back running now, taking baby steps, building slowly and stretching and doing strength. I could get physically ready over the next 12 months and I am absolutely mental enough to do the impossible.

Core Strength, Modifications and a run

Meh, meh, meh. The strength session yesterday didn’t break anything. I can feel the work but nothing is sore. I am not entirely sure what I have done today. The day just sort of disappeared. I made breakfast and tea and I vacuumed the bedroom. We did a bit more of our current Lego set (Natural History Museum) but otherwise – no idea. Kath went and ran her intervals. I didn’t.

We had the Core class booked at the PureGym this evening. I decided to run down. Well, it seemed the scenario that was mostly likely to result in me actually running today. The run was ok. As it was my means of getting to where I needed to be I gave it very little thought. I had my Couch to 5km intervals set on my watch and sort of vaguely ran in line with them. The route to the gym is mostly downhill so I ran a little more than the plan suggests. So that’s the run done.

The Core class is usually 20 minutes and I have actually sort of enjoyed it the couple of previous times – there is a lot I can’t fully do like planks and side planks but there’s always an option to modify and do planks for the knees or whatever. Today we did 3 rounds of 4 minutes. Starting with 15 sit ups, then 15 leg raises and then 15 in and outs and then the remainder of the time in plank. I have no issue with the idea of the workout although it does rather encourage rushing through rather than focusing on good form. However, there was no information about any sort of modifications and in fact several reminders to lower the legs all the way back down to the mat before raising them again for the leg raises. My core is not strong enough, so I arch my back and before we know it I am getting almost no benefit in my core but my back hurts. I wasn’t sure how best to modify other than to not lower the legs as far which had already been commented on so I ended up just not really doing it. I have since looked it up and there are several variations that I can try next time. As for the in and outs – I rushed through them with poor form. I have looked up a modification for them too.

The problem is, I am not sure I will want to modify in a class like that if it will basically be called out. The vibe in the room was a sort of weird competitive one, a fast paced, keep up if you’re hard enough kind of feel. A very difficult atmosphere to be kind to yourself in and to do what you can on the day properly. I can do the sit ups – at least in the first round. I can do one or two full leg raises but would then like to modify or just not lower as far to build the core strength without hurting my back. I’d like to be able to slow down the ins and outs and maybe heeltap rather than hover the feet for the duration. I don’t want comments about ‘lowering legs all the way to the ground’ when I have just stopped doing that because my back is killing and I know it’s nonsense. Or comments like ‘lift your knees off the ground in plank’ when I have just held a full plank for a minute and have dropped to my knees because my form has gone. So yeah, I felt judged and not all of it was in my head today.

So the answer is of course obvious – don’t go to that class. But that misses the point. I don’t actually want to go to any class. I am not choosing my classes by ‘want’ here. But, as everything I have written above should make abundantly clear, I need to build core strength. I don’t have any. It’s never been strong but now there is just nothing and that is problematic on so many levels. A Core class should help me work on that. The class should not assume I already have a strong core. And the previous iterations of the class have been better. I have struggled in some of them too and the instructors have not always been great at giving modifications but when they have seen me modify, they have often remembered and let the class know the options or on one occasion an instructor came over to correct me and I confirmed that the move hurt my back and he told me to keep doing the modification and that was fine. Anyway, I’ll go back but I know it will be even harder to walk into that class next time than it was toady. I feel a bit defeated before I even start. I need to shift from thinking ‘how much will I not be able to do in this class’ to something more positive.

And reading this back I get how this sounds so entitled and self absorbed – it’s all a bit ‘make the class all about me and focused on me and my level and my issues’…I can see why your answer might be ‘shut up, get over yourself and get a PT’. It’s an option but I would give myself about 15 minutes before the urge to punch a PT would become overwhelming. And it’s also not really what I mean. I don’t believe I was the only person struggling. I don’t believe I was the only one whose back was hurting and I know I wasn’t the only one whose form had gone to the point that there really was no point. By just outlining different options at the start of the class, that could be avoided. Everyone could work at their level without feeling weird or awkward and everyone could have a hard for them, positive but challenging Core class. It’s not really about me, it’s about everyone.

The Gym

If you are looking for some inspirational reframing following yesterday’s post – you know the sort of ‘it was all terrible but actually good because this good thing happened and personal growth… positivity… gratitude… #blessed…-then stop reading now. You’re not getting that. The picture at the top is me dripping in sarcasm and rolling my eyes. Stronger than Yesterday is nonsense. The whole beating yesterday thing that pops up every now and again and was a staple of fitness industry advertising a while ago (not sure if it still is, I pay no attention), the idea that every time you go out and exercise, the session has to be better is nonsense. Better than what on what basis? Why? Anyway, inspirational quotes and memes are clearly wasted on me at the moment. What did stick with me from ages ago though is an idea I heard somewhere. It was from a famous runner. I want to say Eliud Kipchoge but that may well not be true. I have googled but it didn’t come up immediately and I don’t have the patience. Anyway, it was something along the lines of training runs not having to be pretty, not having to be better than the last one, not having to be happy or easy or whatever, they just have to be done.

Just having to be done reminded me of something I say to students when they are scared of assessments – do it scared, … but it needs to be done. If they want the thing at the end – the degree- then they need to do it. If I want to be able to have adventures, see the world, get outdoors, keep playing, I need to start getting this done. So I’ll do the gym miserable and grumpy and feeling judged today. This is me, taking up space (I hate the pictures btw but keeping it real) in a space that I feel totally conflicted in. I know what I am doing but it feels like everyone there assumes I do not (nobody assumes anything, they don’t care, this is all me). I feel invisible and hyper visible at the same time. I hate the mirrors but the mirrors also confirm that my form is good and I do in fact know what I am doing.

So, yeah, I went. Getting out was tough but once in the gym I turned my music up loud and disappeared into my bubble. I have my little leg routine, I did it mostly without thinking about it. So as I am feeling judged by numbers anyway, I will tell you what my weights circuit was this morning. This is just me, trying to take the power out of the numbers. I did 3 sets of everything

  • Leg Press: 52kg x 8
  • Leg Extension 25kg but niggled knee so dropped to 18kg x 8
  • Leg Curl 23kg x8
  • Adductor 29kg x 8
  • Adductor 50kg x 8
  • Calf Raise (single leg) 11kg x 8 (to go up next time)
  • Deadlift 17.5kg bar x 8 (to go up next time)
  • Glute bridge with 5kg weight

Did I have fun? Nope. Did I enjoy it in any way? Nope. Did I enjoy having done it? Still nope. But it doesn’t matter. It’s done. I did it fucking grumpy and quite a bit miserable but I’m ok. Nobody laughed (obviously), the numbers didn’t gang up on me, nothing earth shattering happened. Fat lass went to the gym, did a workout and left. End.

Kath also took my lego castle apart for me and I have bagged all the pieces and started to build the foundation for my magic. Still haven’t found the box and instructions but that doesn’t actually matter. So there you are, the castle is in bits, a bit like my fitness journey, waiting to be put back together again, section by section. This may take a while:

So if you are looking for motivation or inspiration (why are you still reading this?) then take this: Whatever the ‘it’ is for you right now. Just get it done. Do it tired, do it stressed, do it sad, angry, miserable. Doesn’t matter. It might not change your life but if it needs doing then do it however you feel. I did the gym miserable. I am still miserable about exercise but there is the tiniest possibility that I might actually be very very slightly stronger than yesterday – hm.

Me in my head

Ah right, where are we. It’s the end-ish of April. It’s well over a months since I last posted. I wrote the last post while we were away and I was all set for starting week 2 of couch to 5km. Then I got food poisoning or a nasty tummy bug and wiped myself out for a week. Eventually I started back on the bike, the new gym opened and I went to some classes and did a couple of strength sessions and I have done the odd yoga flow and workout at home. I even went for a run while at a conference in Glasgow. But nothing is quite clicking.

After attending the yoga class at the gym for the first time I wrote the following LinkedIn post. Since then I have been wondering if maybe I need to call out my own BS. Am I fitter than I look? The bit that I think is true is that I do indeed have a lot of experience. However, having spent chunks of time in the gym where there are mirrors everywhere, having been in several classes where I have struggled with some bits and having tried to go back to basics with running and with the bike, I am not so sure I am actually fitter than I look. And I don’t look fit.

I have noticed that the more time I have spent in the gym the less I feel like I belong there. The more classes I have been too, the less confident I am in taking up space in them, the more I go out and try and tick off the couch to 5km runs, the less I feel like a runner and as for the bike, well I never really believed that was for me. I was asked recently if I enjoyed the gym and the classes. My answer was that I am not that keen but that I do it because it makes me a better runner or even just allows me to run without getting injured. I want that to be true but it assumes I am currently running. In truth, I am not enjoying any of it. It’s miserable. All of it is unreasonably hard. I am stiff and creaky, weak, inflexible, have nothing on cardio and not even the willpower the swear mostly. This morning I did a 20 minute Joe Wicks strength workout, and by did I mean I tried but I modified every other exercise and for one I just quietly sobbed in something vaguely resembling child’s pose which I can’t properly get into because by tummy gets in the way and my hips won’t flex.

None of the tricks are working. I can’t motivate myself because I am struggling to trick my brain into getting it done. I know exercise is awful when you first start, when you have to claw yourself back to fitness. I feel like I have been clawing my way back since the first Covid infection in 2020. I feel like every time I make a tiny bit of progress, something happens. I feel like I haven’t had the chance to string any sort of consistency together. For the last few years I have never got beyond the ‘this is awful’ phase of exercise. I haven’t had the wins. I haven’t had the things that make it worth it. I haven’t been able to claim ‘strong not skinny’ for myself, I haven’t been able to focus on what my body can do rather than what it looks like because it can do so little at the moment. I haven’t even been able to say ‘This Girl Can’ because this girl can’t. And most of the time I was fine with that. I was fine with starting over over and over again, with making minimal progress, getting derailed and then going again. But now? I don’t know what has shifted. Maybe it’s the mirrors all over the gym, maybe it’s the lack of modifications given in most gym classes, maybe it is the constant ‘how to lose weight in your 40s’ advertising that hits my social media feeds, I don’t know. But for the first time in well over a decade I suddenly care that I am fat. It doesn’t feel like just a descriptor in the way that it has done for so long. I have forgotten that I don’t care what people think and suddenly found myself worrying about that. I have forgotten that it has never been about size and weight and have suddenly become concerned about both of those numbers, I have forgotten they are just numbers to which we have arbitrarily assigned value. I feel judged by the numbers. I have forgotten running, exercise, movement is about me and for me and not about anyone else or expectations or conforming to some weird normative bullshit about what my body looks like or can do. It’s swirling into one rather body conscious mess that makes getting out there doing the things that will help bring clarity and balance harder.

So today I wanted to start getting my head sorted but most things at the minute just feel like pressure. I could make a plan – what exercise do I want to do when. And I can do this well, my plans are good and sensible. I have been around this stuff for long enough to have a sense of what works and what is realistic. I could do a really ambitious but doable plan and I could also do a really gentle be kind to yourself through this wobble plan but just the idea of having a plan of any kind just made me convince myself that I would probably just disappoint myself. I thought I could use stickers again and give myself a sticker for every day where I manage to run, cycle or go to the gym – the stickers used to work well but now it just feels like it risks having to look at days and days without stickers when I inevitably don’t manage it. My self talk about just trying to do something was annoying and a bit preachy and anything inspirational that might have made me snap out of it was just not for me…

A week or so ago Kath told me about a conversation with her coach about visual representation of runs or mileage or whatever. And Kath has decided to use Lego – so no colouring in for miles run or workouts completed but instead Kath is, over time, going to build the house from Disney’s ‘Up’. I like this. Stickers on a calendar leave gaps, building something with lego doesn’t leave gaps, the progress and effort made are visible and remain for you to add to even if you miss some time. So I want to build my mini Disney Castle. I decided today that for every day where I manage to go out there and take up space in the fitness and exercise world, run, go to a class or the gym, cycle, whatever, I build. Brick by brick. I almost felt positive about it and thought that this long weekend I could literally lay the foundations for my own little castle of magic and dreams. But I can’t find the box. The castle is built on a shelf in my study. But the box and instructions? We have now searched the house from loft to every cupboard in the house. Can’t find it. Now I know I can download the instructions and I can keep the pieces in ziplock bags. It’s not actually a huge deal. But it felt like it. It felt like the universe saying ‘That castle of magic and dreams – yeah not for you’.

And while I am typing this, my lower back niggles, my bra is digging in, my right foot hurts for no reason and I know that I need to and want to snap out of it and get back to getting better at doing hard. I can do hard. Hell, I can do the impossible. It’s fun to do the impossible, or it used to be. Trusting the process, being patient and just trying to do something, trying to be kind and trying to call myself out when I am just being lazy is hard. I am ok doing hard. I don’t expect easy, it can be impossible for all I care. I will do it anyway, but what I can’t seem to do right now, is deal with feeling judged and like my value is somehow attached to numbers – numbers of the scales, on the clothes labels, on my Garmin or on the weights I am using at the gym. And the most annoying thing about this is – I am pretty sure most people are not judging. It’s all in my head and I don’t know why.

So we go again tomorrow. I want to do a strength session at the gym. I will take up space. I will do my thing. The numbers will be what the numbers will be. Maybe little by little my perspective will shift again. Trust the process, remember it’s for me, it’s about me and me needs to get out of my head.