Excuses excuses and more excuses!

Well it has been a while. Well a week and a bit. So after the 6.5 miles we did on the Sunday (see last post) we felt pretty good and were up for our shorter runs during the week. Then Monday came and we had our planned rest day. Then Tuesday came and we didn’t go for a run, then Wednesday, Thursday, then Friday and we hadn’t been. We went away for the weekend so knew we wouldn’t be going then either. We had all the usual excuses, too tired, too close to having eaten, feeling a bit low, can’t be bothered, we’ll go in the morning instead, didn’t get up in time, would be too much of a rush… Yep, if you can think of an excuse, we probably used it last week. And the thing is, as the week went on we felt worse and worse both physically  but also mentally because I certainly kept feeling like I was letting us down. We should have just gone for a run! So enough of that.

We had a lovely weekend away with friends who were amazing hosts and who helped us just relax and chill out completely. We had a longish walk with them on Saturday and it was good to be out. Our drive home Sunday was about five hours including a stop for lunch on the way so by the time we got home we actually both felt like going for a little run. I found it physically hard but I enjoyed stretching my legs a bit. We did 2.78 miles in 35 mins.

We couldn’t ignore the Sunday weigh-in either so when we got back from the run I hopped on the scales fully expecting a few pounds to have gone back on. I hadn’t tried to eat well and I hadn’t been running all week and then we had a lovely weekend with lots of yummy food and a couple of drinks. However the scales stubbornly stayed on the same number they were at last week. I think that’s what you call getting away with it!

Yesterday Kath persuaded me to get my butt on the road (well canal path) again. I didn’t really want to go, I had work stuff going round in my head and felt like I just wanted to hide under the duvet. But she was right, another 35 minute run did make me feel loads better. We went slightly further on this one 2.89 miles I think.

I am writing this on the train back from  Liverpool where I have been visiting a school for their UCAS week. I think I might actually quite like to go for s short run this evening. I’ve spent most of the day on the train. I feel like I want to move and be outside. I am also very very conscious that our first 10km run is in 19 days. More on that soon!

So, a crap week last week but this week has started pretty well. Let’s see if I can keep it going.

The one where Jess runs a long way and most definitely hates running but it’s ok because there’s brunch

Sunday, that means weigh-in day. I woke up when our kitten jumped on my head about 7.45. I don’t think he meant to, he was just running loops rounds the house and the loop took him across my head. Wish I had that much energy. Anyway, the scales. For once they were quite friendly and spat out reasonably agreeable numbers. I have lost 4 pounds since last Sunday. I really haven’t done anything special with food – can’t say I’ve been trying that hard but we have been out running a fair bit and it seems to me that moving more has always worked better for me than eating less. We are also eating pretty healthy meals overall with virtually no processed stuff so that will be helping too.

Sunday also meant a long run. 6.5 miles to be exact. I had a banana and some water and then we did 15 minutes of yoga just to get moving. My legs and hips felt tight doing that. I don’t really quite know how to desribe the run without swearing lots. We warmed up with a short walk and then a couple of short jogs. Then we set off. Then a very very very long time passed and we had got to a mile. One piddly little mile and I felt like my lungs were going to explode and my legs, well let’s just not talk about my legs. Then another eternity passed and we got to 2 miles. Two stupid miles. Completing the 6.5 miles seemed rather unlikely. Onwards I plodded. We got to three miles, my lungs had sorted themselves out, not sure when – somewhere between 2 and 3 miles. We turned round just by Bingley 5 rise locks at just over 3 miles. I do like turning round and heading for home. Amazingly we got to 4 miles. No idea how. Then 5 miles. I was taking every walk break as it came and my legs felt stupidly heavy. At 5 miles my back was aching a little and I know I was losing form and running completely inefficiently. Lungs were ok though and I’d come this far, it seemed silly to stop with only a mile and a half to go. We passed 6 miles. I took the walk break which finished at 6.1miles and then I just went for it. Not fast but determined because, frankly, we’d been out for long enough already and it was time to get it over and done with. So, 6.5 miles (10.4ishkm) in one hour 26 minutes and 57 seconds. Pace of 13.23 minutes per mile. Hated 6.4 miles of that. Loved 0.1miles of it and was quite excited about having done it.

We got home, had a bath and then the muchies set in. We had what is billed as a South American brunch to try and re-fuel (get me – running lingo!) and help with recovery. It’s basically a fried egg served on quinoa and back eyed beans topped with avocado and a spring onion and tomato dressing. The recipe is originally Jamie Oliver and we haven’t made too many changes to it really. We use packet quinoa which can just be done in the microwave in 45 seconds and usually a tin of black eyed beans but other beans will do. We don’t add any salt and we don’t add chilli sauce. It’s delicious and it looks like this:

South American Brunch

Enjoy.

What (not?) to wear?

We went for another run today. We’re slowly moving up to running 45 minutes during the week rather than the 30 minutes. So today we headed out for 35 minutes. It was ok actually. One little ‘you stupid woman what are you doing’ moment during the 7th running section (still 2 mins running  and 30 sec walking) but we managed to take out a couple of runs in the second half. Pace of 12.14 minutes per mile; 2.86 miles. Still struggling with teetering on the edge of depression but I’ve been thinking of my black dog as a puppy today so I think I’m making progress

It’s been warm today and warm brings with it the need to think about clothes. Not something I do much of. I know what real runners wear, we have several issues of Runners World lying around. So just to be clear, short (lycra, cycling, running, whatever) shorts and a top that is basically no more than a sports bra are not an option. Not now, not ever. That’s just not me. But what is me? What should I wear for running? I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t self-conscious. I am. I’m too heavy, I’d like to/need to loose maybe 3 stone ish. I’m currently a comfortable size 18 (UK) or an uncomfortable 16. I’ve got curves in the wrong as well as the right places. Running is a big deal so I need to feel confident as well as comfortable or I just won’t go.

Today I wore just some standard (Cotton traders I suspect) jog pants and a no sleeves top which is stretchy and therefore a little clingy. The tops was ok. The pants are too thick and heavy for this weather. So alternatives? I have some Roots 3/4 jog pants but they’re also too thick really. Comfy as anything but too thick. I have a pair of 3/4 length running pants from Gap – they’re tight lycra-ish and I am not sure about wearing them with the kind of top I wore today – I’d have to be feeling very brave. I have worn them with  normal cotton T-shirts but they are quite thick and the few t-shirts I have from previous races are clingy and not that comfortable. Hm. I may need to go and buy some 3/4 length tracksuit bottoms that aren’t  thick and heavy. (I do have a pair that I loved but I can’t get my backside in them at the moment!) I hate shopping for sports stuff – I can just hear the ‘really, you’re buying these for running? Of course you are!’ I can see the sales staff rolling their eyes. I may have to just be too hot until my backside has shrunk enough to fit into the pants I have – by which time it will be cold and a moot point anyway.

Sunday weigh-in, 5.75 miles and running faster than your ‘black dog’

I woke up this morning with a feeling I haven’t had for years. That feeling of teetering on the edge of depression, of my mental health not being where it should be; the wanting to stay in bed and hide, the barely being able to get up. My black dog was pushing at the door (for some reason I picture my symbolic black dog as a fat black labrador). But there was good news that was worth getting up for – our friends’ baby was born over night and all are doing well. So now I was up, I might as well stay up. I remembered it was Sunday and got an the scales. +1.5 pounds. Hmph (though fully deserved and expected). The plan was to move to the next longer run on the programme, skipping some of the 30 minute ones and moving through to the longer runs more quickly. I had a banana and then we did 15 minutes of yoga.

We set off for our run, heading along the canal towards Bingley for a change. Run/walk ratio continues to be 2mins/30 secs. The first two runs were awful. I couldn’t breathe, my legs felt like led, everything felt like an effort and, if I’m honest, I just didn’t want to do it. It’s hard to describe the battle that went on in my head. Not only did I have the usual ‘ you’re not a runner’, ‘what do you think you’re doing’ and ‘really, you want to run do you?’ going on, I also had a more general crisis. I had a really dark cloud hanging over me which made everything so hard. – the black labrador hanging on to the back of my top and pulling me back. But that wasn’t everything, I also had a tiny little voice, a very quiet voice initially that was trying to be determined not to be ill, not to give in, not to allow the black dog into the room. That voice got louder as we kept going. I had a major wobble just before 2.5 miles where I informed Kath that I couldn’t do ‘it’. I have no idea what ‘it’ was but I was sure that I couldn’t do it. She took no notice of me and just told me that I could and kept going. As she is right about most things I just had to believe her and keep going with her.

The running was hard, I was grateful for every walk break but as I kept going the little determined voice got louder and as we passed 5 miles it got a little bit giddy and almost shouted ‘you can do this’. There was no reply. There was no response saying ‘don’t be stupid’, there was silence. A silence I’m not used to when running. Is this the empty mind, clearing head kind of silence that real runners talk about?  I enjoyed the last half a mile. I actually enjoyed it. I felt like giggling (except I didn’t have enough breath for that), I’d just pictured a big black dog as the symbol of depression running along behind us on the canal desperately trying to keep up with us, tongue hanging out, panting, getting slower and slower and eventually, probably around 4 miles giving up. I win. I ran 5.75 miles today. I woke up not well but I came back from running feeling confident that I will go to bed much better.

So 5.75 miles. Pace of 13.15 minutes per mile. An hour 16 minutes and 10 seconds. However slow that might seem to you, as long as I’m outrunning my black dog it’s fast enough for me. Oh and when I got back on the scales after the run I’d actually lost half a pound since last week. I haven’t changed the weight in the log because that felt like cheating but it felt good.

Calf niggles, eating crap and running in the sun

I was looking forward to a run after work on Tuesday – that never happens! I walked up the hill from the bus stop, got changed and we set off. For the first time since my injury we set off from home rather than heading for the canal bank. The first stretch is a slight downhill. Great. Then a bit uphill, fine apart from the huge gust of wind that nearly knocked us over but certainly took our breath away. As we turned the corner and started on the next little downhill section I felt my right calf complain a little. I finished that 2 minute run, walked and then set off on the next run, it niggled some more. The next walk came quickly and we set off to run again and the niggle turned into a twinge and I stopped. It was so frustrating. We’d been running a consistent pace of just over 12 minutes per mile and I felt strong even on the uphill bits. My calf however is not yet ready for hills!

No running Wednesday, instead I curled up on the beanbag (no sofa still), drank a glass of red wine and tried not to think about the utter crap I’d eaten during the day. It started well with porridge (finally found some in sachets that isn’t too sweet) but then went down hill from there with sarnies from work and chips and biscuits and stupid amounts of coffee to get me through the 13 hour day I did. Oh well Thursday was meant to be another day altogether…

So today I didn’t have to be at work early. We did half an hour of yoga (balance for beginners – or in my case unbalanced) and had pancakes and a big bowl of fruit salad. Then I made my way to Leeds. Things fell apart at lunch with crisps, chocolate, more sarnies, more crisps…  Not holding out much hope for the Sunday weigh-in this week. After a day in Leeds I was ready for home and after being stuck on a commuter train packed like sardines I wanted to be outside. I wanted space and I actually sort of wanted to run. We went along the canal for 30 minutes in our 2minute/30 seconds patters. It’s warm. Our average pace was 12.58 minutes per mile. It felt good, I felt ok, my calf muscle is behaving itself. I like running in the sun!