OK, so the comeback kid made some premature declarations. I've spent the last couple of weeks stretching and strengthening, but without a lot of success. So onto a different tack - acupuncture. I had my first treatment tonight and now feel as if a tractor backed into the back of my right leg. Apparently this is normal - pain does equal gain in this game. If it just felt like a horse kicked it then I'd be disappointed (apparently). The practitioner is a lovely guy who is confused about the point of the whole Kepler thing but when I told him it's a 60 km run he laughed and said "Ok - I see you many many times in this year."
I've given away the 25km event at the end of the month. Even if my Achilles was OK by now, I'm worried that going out for even 25km on very little recent mileage might give just cause other problems that come from too much, too soon. So, the plan now is to build up very slowly with my eye on the Christchurch half marathon in June. It's a flat course, fast and hard, and usually run in the kind of of nipple-shriveling temperatures that make warming up impossible, until you're 10km in, that is. Last year it snowed - running in a winter wonderland! Hopefully it'll suit me in terms of time, distance, and a great run - not a race but a good long weekend trot with lots of other people on a course I haven't done before. It's good to have a new goal on the way to Kepler.
Bring on the winter!
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
Comin' back, kids
I went for my first pain-free(ish) run today - 20 whole minutes on the road-to-nowhere that is the treadmill, and I feel soooo much better. I have new shoes (running and dress shoes - a girl needs balance in her life), and a much improved outlook. Has anyone else had the experience of a physio or doc saying "You'll be fine now," and feeling like you've been given permission to not feel sore anymore? Today I'm enjoying that particular feeling.
Plus I'm now thinking that maybe a 25km event in a month isn't totally out of my reach after all, and that I'll be able to head to that event with friends. I would have gone anyway cause it'll be a great weekend - the social side of running is definately important. And it's nice to come back into that, too, as well as into the business of getting and staying fit, building a good base, and making it through winter training. Today in our fair city we had winds gusting 140 km/h, so it's time to break out those training routes that involve a tail-wind and a pick-up rather than a turn-around and head home :)
Cheers all!
Plus I'm now thinking that maybe a 25km event in a month isn't totally out of my reach after all, and that I'll be able to head to that event with friends. I would have gone anyway cause it'll be a great weekend - the social side of running is definately important. And it's nice to come back into that, too, as well as into the business of getting and staying fit, building a good base, and making it through winter training. Today in our fair city we had winds gusting 140 km/h, so it's time to break out those training routes that involve a tail-wind and a pick-up rather than a turn-around and head home :)
Cheers all!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
My Achilles heel
"Oh, that's typical Achilles tendonosis, that is." That's the physiotherapy equivalent of a mechanic saying "Well, there's your problem, love!" And your stomach sinks. Not because it's going to cost a lot to fix (well, that might prove wrong), but what it's going to cost in training time and confidence. I know a few people who've ruptured an Achilles or have had chronic problems, and it's not somewhere I'm keen to go.
So, at present I'm cooling my heels, literally sitting here with an icepack wrapped around my ankle. I am able to cycle and run lightly when my heel isn't sore first thing in the morning, but I haven't quite managed to get to that point just yet. In the meantime, it's podcasts and stationary biking. Oh the joys!
Why is it that running and injury seem to have to go together? I do believe that humans are made to move, and some move better than others, for sure. But amongst all the discussion of the benefits of barefoot running vs orthotics; stretching or not; massage or not; recommendations for ice baths and hot compresses, it does seem odd that we have to spend so much time trying to prevent and/or manage injury. And interpreting the confusing array of information that comes with it. If hunting and gathering had involved ultra long distance running, how is it that we, as a species, survived at all, AND without $300 pairs of shoes?
The NSAIDS and biking-to-nowhere must be addling my brain.Wait for more coherent posts once I'm back on my feet!
So, at present I'm cooling my heels, literally sitting here with an icepack wrapped around my ankle. I am able to cycle and run lightly when my heel isn't sore first thing in the morning, but I haven't quite managed to get to that point just yet. In the meantime, it's podcasts and stationary biking. Oh the joys!
Why is it that running and injury seem to have to go together? I do believe that humans are made to move, and some move better than others, for sure. But amongst all the discussion of the benefits of barefoot running vs orthotics; stretching or not; massage or not; recommendations for ice baths and hot compresses, it does seem odd that we have to spend so much time trying to prevent and/or manage injury. And interpreting the confusing array of information that comes with it. If hunting and gathering had involved ultra long distance running, how is it that we, as a species, survived at all, AND without $300 pairs of shoes?
The NSAIDS and biking-to-nowhere must be addling my brain.Wait for more coherent posts once I'm back on my feet!
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
No sex please, we're runners
I love Runner's World magazine. It's often got impossibly ripped people on the front, and pictures inside of abs the kind of which belong to models and/or elite runners. Eye candy, even if in my wildest dreams I couldn't find the time or motivation (or stay away from the icecream) long enough to train enough to look like that.
But that said, the variety of body shapes and sizes at longer distance events is astonishing, and brilliant. A quote from the a recent Runner's World article by Mark Remy on Rules to Run By includes a gem of a quote: "Not everyone who looks fast really is, and not everyone who looks slow really is." I'd also add that not everyone who looks intimidating and unapproachable really is - appearances can be deceiving in many ways.
Last year I went to a road race event. Local clubs were heavily represented, all age groups and speeds were on course. Once their race was over, a group of teenage lads sauntered around having ditched their race singlets. Unlike many of the Runner's World cover specimens (but probably like a lot of the runners on the inside pages with their shirts still on) these young guys were skinny, pale-chested and ropey, but they were working it, big time. They probably had picked about the most receptive audience-for-body-type possible!
So is there eye-candy at running events? Yes. Does it matter? Only as a side show, or until everyone gets sweaty, snotty and muddy enough that we're all pretty much equal. Grovelling is grovelling, no matter how it's packaged.
I could ask my husband for the male perspective of sex appeal and running, but he's training for the Christchurch marathon and has gone to bed early. Like I said...
But that said, the variety of body shapes and sizes at longer distance events is astonishing, and brilliant. A quote from the a recent Runner's World article by Mark Remy on Rules to Run By includes a gem of a quote: "Not everyone who looks fast really is, and not everyone who looks slow really is." I'd also add that not everyone who looks intimidating and unapproachable really is - appearances can be deceiving in many ways.
Last year I went to a road race event. Local clubs were heavily represented, all age groups and speeds were on course. Once their race was over, a group of teenage lads sauntered around having ditched their race singlets. Unlike many of the Runner's World cover specimens (but probably like a lot of the runners on the inside pages with their shirts still on) these young guys were skinny, pale-chested and ropey, but they were working it, big time. They probably had picked about the most receptive audience-for-body-type possible!
So is there eye-candy at running events? Yes. Does it matter? Only as a side show, or until everyone gets sweaty, snotty and muddy enough that we're all pretty much equal. Grovelling is grovelling, no matter how it's packaged.
I could ask my husband for the male perspective of sex appeal and running, but he's training for the Christchurch marathon and has gone to bed early. Like I said...
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Memorable runs - they're not always the fun ones!
Addition to the list of things to guts through - running on late Saturday afternoon. It was hot, well 23C or so (hot for Wellington), and had I not made a pact to run with a friend, I wouldn't have gone. Leaving home when my family were sitting on the back lawn with cups of tea? Less than 20 minutes into the run I was thinking I should have stayed, but I'm pleased I went out.
I would put the grovel factor at about 6/10 (it wasn't that long); the grot factor at about 8/10 (hot and sweaty, and had baked beans for lunch); the company factor 10/10 (love running with friends); recovery factor 2/10 (felt rubbish afterwards). But there is a certain satisfaction in noting a run the paper diary and in here, especially after two days off (1 planned, one too busy to think). It'll be a run I'll always remember.
It always amazes me, when I look back over my running diary, that I can place most of the runs, even those on the tried and true local circuits. There's almost always something memorable about each one, either for the delight of a great run, or the happiness of finishing a rough one. Thinking about the last 20 km of the Kepler, these tough ones are probably the most valuable to me - not that I'm wishing for more of them!
Happy trails.
I would put the grovel factor at about 6/10 (it wasn't that long); the grot factor at about 8/10 (hot and sweaty, and had baked beans for lunch); the company factor 10/10 (love running with friends); recovery factor 2/10 (felt rubbish afterwards). But there is a certain satisfaction in noting a run the paper diary and in here, especially after two days off (1 planned, one too busy to think). It'll be a run I'll always remember.
It always amazes me, when I look back over my running diary, that I can place most of the runs, even those on the tried and true local circuits. There's almost always something memorable about each one, either for the delight of a great run, or the happiness of finishing a rough one. Thinking about the last 20 km of the Kepler, these tough ones are probably the most valuable to me - not that I'm wishing for more of them!
Happy trails.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
What's wrong with me - and anyone else reading this?
Yesterday I was at the gym on the treadmill (aka machine of unending doom). The guy next to me was doing hill intervals and making noises that people only make in times of great pleasure, or great pain; either way, not noises normally made in public places. Turns out this gentleman has just qualified to represent New Zealand in short-source tri, and is aiming for representation at Olympic distance, too. He outlined a racing and training schedule that made me even more short of breath than I already was, then asked what I was training for.
At the word "Kepler," I swear his eyes bulged, then changed to a look of pity. He shook his head and said "wow, 60 km - you're crazy!" Well, I'm pretty sure he does more kilometres every week than I will do on course in December, and he works across three disciplines, balancing training, nutrition, and wetsuit wrangling. My hat goes off to him! But the question is why something like Kepler is seen as something really, really scary? Is it the topography, the distance, the training required, all of the above?
These are the moment when I wonder whether I've totally overestimated my ability to do this, and/or over underestimated the challenge and that I must be a bit off the margins! I reckon I've got one major advantage, one thing to fall back on: having been at the race briefing, the finish line and the prizegiving when my husband's run the race, I've seen the people of all ages, shapes and sizes, finish times and reactions to completing the race. They're incredibly varied, and incredibly encouraging. And I guess I'm keen to find out what it feels like. And I don't means DOMS so bad you can't lift your feet above ankle level!
So what's wrong with me, and maybe you? I guess we all choose our punishment one way or the other - the tri guy does his hill repeats and I'll do my long slow runs, and we'll continue to wonder at each other's choices. Nice though, that even at the gym, there's camaraderie as we pursue our chosen form of madness. And hopefully have the breath to compare notes!
At the word "Kepler," I swear his eyes bulged, then changed to a look of pity. He shook his head and said "wow, 60 km - you're crazy!" Well, I'm pretty sure he does more kilometres every week than I will do on course in December, and he works across three disciplines, balancing training, nutrition, and wetsuit wrangling. My hat goes off to him! But the question is why something like Kepler is seen as something really, really scary? Is it the topography, the distance, the training required, all of the above?
These are the moment when I wonder whether I've totally overestimated my ability to do this, and/or over underestimated the challenge and that I must be a bit off the margins! I reckon I've got one major advantage, one thing to fall back on: having been at the race briefing, the finish line and the prizegiving when my husband's run the race, I've seen the people of all ages, shapes and sizes, finish times and reactions to completing the race. They're incredibly varied, and incredibly encouraging. And I guess I'm keen to find out what it feels like. And I don't means DOMS so bad you can't lift your feet above ankle level!
So what's wrong with me, and maybe you? I guess we all choose our punishment one way or the other - the tri guy does his hill repeats and I'll do my long slow runs, and we'll continue to wonder at each other's choices. Nice though, that even at the gym, there's camaraderie as we pursue our chosen form of madness. And hopefully have the breath to compare notes!
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Where are you, woman in the blue top?
There was this woman in a blue shirt in the last event I did, ten whole days ago. She ran in front of me, steady as a metronome. At first I was bullish, picked her out as someone I could track for a while and then hopefully pick up - and I did. Then I had a spell in front of her, but stopped to grab some food. She tapped past, and gradually disappeared from view. Thinking that she might be in sight again just around the next corner kept me going, though.
I wish she lived around here somewhere. The last 10 days have been a bit frantic and I haven't run at all. I could have, but it was too easy to say 'maybe tomorrow,' or 'maybe when I get this piece of work done.' If she'd been running past my house every day, or I'd seen her running into town while I sat on the bus, I might have been motivated to try and follow her.
Motivation in the face of modern life? All too easily lost!
I wish she lived around here somewhere. The last 10 days have been a bit frantic and I haven't run at all. I could have, but it was too easy to say 'maybe tomorrow,' or 'maybe when I get this piece of work done.' If she'd been running past my house every day, or I'd seen her running into town while I sat on the bus, I might have been motivated to try and follow her.
Motivation in the face of modern life? All too easily lost!
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Upright, moving forward
Saturday's run wasn't pretty, it wasn't fast, but it's done. And I don't have any new scabs on my knees. I'll take that as a not insignificant victory.
The 27 km event was cool: we had fantastic weather, even involving a tail wind through the second half of the race. What could be better? Well, some energy in the legs would have been good but frankly, that was lack of training in action. And the uphill start was a bit hard-out for an old girl like me,
It was an interesting experience during the event of setting the legs into plod mode and then almost chugging along without thinking at all. I seldom dissociate completely during a run, normally thinking constantly about how I'm feeling, whether I can still see the people I'm trying to keep in touch with, where the next km marker is, whether I've had enough to eat or drink. Aside from a hurty section at the end when I just couldn't, no matter how hard I tried, run up the last few slight inclines, it was all a head game. Is is better? More efficient? Or just normal? Tuning in, running out!
Coming back to reality with my kids and husband and other family supporters at the finish line was the best part of the day. And the beer... perfect. Now it's time to build on the event and see if I can't a) keep the momentum going and b) keep me knees clean.
The 27 km event was cool: we had fantastic weather, even involving a tail wind through the second half of the race. What could be better? Well, some energy in the legs would have been good but frankly, that was lack of training in action. And the uphill start was a bit hard-out for an old girl like me,
It was an interesting experience during the event of setting the legs into plod mode and then almost chugging along without thinking at all. I seldom dissociate completely during a run, normally thinking constantly about how I'm feeling, whether I can still see the people I'm trying to keep in touch with, where the next km marker is, whether I've had enough to eat or drink. Aside from a hurty section at the end when I just couldn't, no matter how hard I tried, run up the last few slight inclines, it was all a head game. Is is better? More efficient? Or just normal? Tuning in, running out!
Coming back to reality with my kids and husband and other family supporters at the finish line was the best part of the day. And the beer... perfect. Now it's time to build on the event and see if I can't a) keep the momentum going and b) keep me knees clean.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Opening the account: first event for 2010
This weekend I'm going to do a 27km offroad event across some of the most beautiful scenery in the country - a low pass between two volcanoes, across sand and tussock grass, and luckily toward the end, a few stands of beech trees. It's going to be hot, so I'll be looking forward to any shade that's going!
I'm nervous tho - while my scabs have all gone I've not run much recently so this is going to be a long run, but a big jump up from my recent distances. Injury worries? Oh, yes! Like Anne I really fear spending a lot of time off at any stage this year. So here is the internal dialogue:
I'm nervous tho - while my scabs have all gone I've not run much recently so this is going to be a long run, but a big jump up from my recent distances. Injury worries? Oh, yes! Like Anne I really fear spending a lot of time off at any stage this year. So here is the internal dialogue:
- Maybe I shouldn't run? But it's OK, I can tap out 27km.
- I won't do it as well as I'd hoped. But treat it like a long weekend run. Done those before off a low base and survived.
- This will set me up really well for a 25 k'er planned for late April.
- I need to practice not falling over during runs of more than 10 km
- It'll be a really cool event, and supports a good cause
- I LOVE carbo loading (even though it's hardly necessary for this -I can't taper off nothing!)
So for now, the ayes win out. Wish me luck!
Saturday, January 16, 2010
A tumblin' down
Goodbye Christmas! Had a great holiday and even managed some running, then came home with the idea of a good long run with some fantastic running buddies to kick-start my final training for a 27km off roader on the 30th of January. An hour or so in I tripped and fell, grazing my elbow and knee. A week later, and I can finally bend my knee again. Needless to say that the infections in both sites have meant I haven't run (or done anything vaguely athletic) for 8 days. Hmmmm, not exactly the taper I was planning!
The worst thing is that I have to admit that this is hardly the first time I've decked out while running. I don't pick up my feet, I'm clumsy and when I hit, I seem to hit hard AND slide. I have scars on my knees that would make a ten year old boy very proud. My workmates laugh when I have to negotiate the stairs at the office after a weekend crash. But the worst thing is being stuck inside. I even felt like going out today when it's raining and 12 degrees Celsius in January, the middle of our summer.
The short of it: the 30th of January will now be a moderate training run with lots of other people around and a finish line photo - a photo that hopefully will not show bloodied knees and a sheepish grin. Wish me luck!
The worst thing is that I have to admit that this is hardly the first time I've decked out while running. I don't pick up my feet, I'm clumsy and when I hit, I seem to hit hard AND slide. I have scars on my knees that would make a ten year old boy very proud. My workmates laugh when I have to negotiate the stairs at the office after a weekend crash. But the worst thing is being stuck inside. I even felt like going out today when it's raining and 12 degrees Celsius in January, the middle of our summer.
The short of it: the 30th of January will now be a moderate training run with lots of other people around and a finish line photo - a photo that hopefully will not show bloodied knees and a sheepish grin. Wish me luck!
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