After my Happy Running in Bath, Edinburgh and at home, we headed to Seahouses for a week of writing and thinking for my DBA. We had a lovely little apartment and the perfect location and as well as some lovely walks on the beach I also had one little run.
I didn’t go far and I found it really hard and was initially frustrated at the lack of fitness. I was also a bit unsettled because we’d had to change plans. The initial plan was to drive Kath to Craster for her to run back and for me to have a plod there before driving back. But the road was closed and rather than trying to work out an alternative, we pulled into the car park at Beadnell Bay to regroup. Kath was unsettled and so was I but eventually we got going and she set off to run to Dunstanburgh Castle and I set off on my plod.
After about a mile I realised that I didn’t want to run, I wanted to walk in the sea with bare feet- so that’s what I did.
I didn’t run very much at all that week but I loved walking on the beach, playing with the sea and just being.
I wrote about my Philly running adventures and noted I was going to come back to the plans for consistency and my inability to actually stick to those plans. So here we go. We got back from Philly and I felt good about running. But then I did almost nothing for 2 weeks. I managed some yoga but not as much as I wanted to really and I felt like jetlag properly kicked my butt. I didn’t really get going until this week. I dragged my butt out for the first run of week 4 of Couch to 5km plan on the bank holiday Monday. On the Tuesday we had a spa day but went to the gym before and I ran down to get there and we did yoga in the evening. That was a good self care day!
I went to yoga on Wednesday and Friday, too but didn’t get out for another run until today. Today I walked/ran 3 miles. It wasn’t fun and it was full of self doubt and negative chatter but it’s in the bank. So I got my three runs in this week. I have also done 2 strength sessions at the gym, a couple of daily stretch and foot re-set sessions on dynamic runner and a couple of Yoga Studio App morning flows. I’m not doing nothing but I am struggling with running consistency. I guess I just need to keep doing the best I can on the day.
I am trying to plan week by week, just one week at a time because that seems to be more realistic. A routine of gym on day X and running on day Y doesn’t work very well at the moment because I don’t have set days where I need to be in the office. I am hoping that sitting down today and looking what is realistic for next week might help me stay consistent and keep ticking the running off. I have to keep believing that the running will click back into place and that at least some of it will be enjoyable again.
I’ve been trying to work out why it is such a struggle to just go out and do it; why I can’t get back to running just being a thing I do. I am not looking for it to be easy. It’s not that I mind hard, in some ways I actually like the feeling of being good at doing hard. Partly I think it is that I am slightly heavier. It’s not the number on the scale (I don’t actually know what that is), it’s about where and how I am carrying the weight. It’s typical premenopausal, right round the middle weight that makes running weirdly uncomfortable. I am a different shape to when I was running consistently and certainly to when I was running happy more often than not. So there’s that. Then there’s the added anxiety, self-consciousness and brain muddle that seems to come with being a woman in her mid 40s. While I am mostly embracing the ‘I don’t give a fuck what you think’ attitude that somehow comes more easily with this age, there is also the imposter part of my brain that has been louder recently than it has been in years. I have stopped believing that I belong on the canal towpath, in the gym, in the yoga class…I know I do, I just don’t believe I do. So every potential run is a battle ground to be negotiated. I have to convince my brain that running is not pointless, that nobody will laugh at me and even if they do, what do I care, that I am perfectly entitled to take up space out there running and that I am capable. My brain thinks it has more evidence to the contrary and of course every time I don’t run as planned it banks that as further evidence that the best place for me is on the sofa.
But I know my brain is wrong. Even with the overwhelming evidence that I am currently an utterly crap runner, I know that I am a runner. I want to run and I want to get better and I know how to do that and I deserve to have the opportunity to try – whatever my brain thinks. So my brain needs to sit this one out. Right now running for me is about doing the impossible and my brain has no business in that. I’m benching it. I’m going to try to get to consistency without thinking, just feeling and doing.
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.
Week One of a Couch to 5Km programme done. A day late but done and done in a way that felt like happy running. I posted about the first 2 runs last time. It took a while longer to get out for run 3. Yes I probably could have made the time during the week but it was a busy one and I am very very tired at the moment and I felt pretty on the edge in terms of keeping it all together, so this feels right.
Run 3 was uneventful. There was no attempt at excuses or elaborate planning on when to go just to change my mind and do something else; no indecision about where to go… All of this was probably helped by the fact that we are at Kielder Water for a long weekend and for Kath to run the Dark Skies 11 miler this evening. We had breakfast with the chaffinches (and a few sparrows), sat for a bit chatting and just being, watching the cloud and fog roll out and back in and then we headed out. Kath came with me for a little shake out run and to have a look at the start area and the route arrows to be prepared for this evening. So that added purposes took care of whether to go clockwise or anti-clockwise round Kielder Water (we went clockwise).
It was a stunning morning, the reservoir was like a millpond and the light was doing interesting things with reflections and seemed to make everything look sort of silver. I quickly noticed that runs 1 and 2 had been basically completely on the flat. The path here is not flat. It’s undulating and my lungs quickly told me what they thought of that. Still, the 8 runs of 1 minute each with 90 seconds walking in-between were fine really. We did 7 in one directions and then turned round and came back.
I was pleased with how quickly I recovered to normal heart rate and breathing – even if not entirely happy with how quickly both had shot up during the run. But baby steps, patience and trusting the plan will get me to where I want to be so I am doing just that. I wasn’t really sure about Couch to 5km. I have tried it before and I didn’t get on with it. I have always preferred the more permanent run/walk/run of the Jeff Galloway method. But over the last year I have also sort of feel that it is no longer doing it for me. Or at least it isn’t helping me get back into running properly. So let’s see how this goes. I am not saying I want to go and run a marathon or even a half without walk breaks. I think I am likely to always use run/walk/run for longer distances. However, I also think I need to build some baseline running fitness and a Couch to 5km which builds to running 30 minutes without walking seems like a good place to start.
Week 1 has been good. Roll on week 2 which consists of 3 runs that are all the same – Five 90 second runs with 2 minute walks breaks in-between. It has probably been quite a long time since I did 90 second running intervals but I am actually looking forward to it and 2 minutes feels like a very generous recovery period. So, now for hot tub, afternoon nap, stretches and then being Kath’s support crew for this evening.
Just a very quick post because I’m tired and need to process today. We left Howard Lodge in Carlisle just after 8 am after an average breakfast but nice overall stay.
Today’s route was varied, more undulating than yesterday and actually a lovely route.
There were some muddy bits and some of the road sections were actually welcome after having spent a chunk of time thinking carefully about where to put our feet.
We had the path completely to ourselves for the first 5.5 miles and after that we met others coming in the opposite direction every couple of miles or so.
My feet are sore. The walking shoes were still soaking wet so I obviously wore the trail running shoes. They’re actually much better and fabulous in mud but they are quite tight. Those pressure points already tender got worse and I was in low level pain from early on. facilities are basically non existent so eventually we had a wild wee.
The sunshine was lovely and it was nice not to be rained on! But I started flagging quite early. We decided to push on to 10 miles before lunch. I sort of made it but I was struggling. We sat by the roadside and had some pasta we’d bought from M&S. I struggled to get going again and in Walton we thought we’d stop at the tea room for coffee. We didn’t have coffee because we couldn’t get served as the guy running it seemed more interested in chatting to locals. He seemed cross that we left with me just having had a pee but in all the time it took he hadn’t taken an order from Kath.
We saw the first bits of stone wall today. It’s quite a staggering wall and must have been tea imposing in its time.
Around 14 ish miles I lost the plot. Everything seems to hurt worse. There was a narrow muddy section that just made feet and hips throb with every step. I had a little cry. I got in my head. It definitely felt like I had taken on too much. I was cross that I didn’t feel better. After all we were just walking and not walking fast and the terrain was mostly fine and while there had been a hill or two it really wasn’t a strenuous route.
So today has been tough. Dacre House, our B&B is really nice and I am happy to just be able to rest. My feet are really tender, my little toes are blistered to hell and let’s just not talk about the chafing along the knicker line – let’s just say I screamed in the shower and Kath’s response to seeing it was ‘fucking hell that’s horrendous’. Vaseline has been liberally applied, the toe blisters popped and I’m about to do some stretches and then sleep.
Tomorrow is another long day. It has much more up in it and is described as moderate to strenuous. I don’t know how I’m going to do it. But I want to.
really (not) a runner 