The Joy of Socks

My running hopes have been saved. So today I want to heap praise and gratitude on the Cinderella of the running world - the humble sock.

So often the sock is the subject of fun and mockery for being smelly, worn out or embarrassingly visible.  I too have heaped derision on the sock. Yet socks are indeed the foundation of good running for many of us.

I have history with socks; they remind me of my Dad whose socks were a regular topic in our house.  Every year, Santa left our Christmas pressies in one of Dad's (washed, Headingly Rugby Club) socks. As a little girl I had a kiddy-type speech impediment and pronounced socks as 'thocks' (said in a juicy fruity spray-y way).   I was very insistent about my pronunciation and my Dad never let me forget it and teased me mercilessly. Even today if you say 'thocks' to Mum she remembers the joke, she beams with happy memories and memories are a rare gift indeed for her.

Later on in life, the sock theme reappeared. My gone but never forgotten monster cat Kyle had a big thing about socks. In his younger years he used to steal socks from nearby washing lines and bring them home for me proud as Punch.  Kyle stopped his stealing when we moved to North Berwick (it's not that kind of place) - but he remained partial to Ali's socks if he could get his paws on them. Just a week before he shuffled off to the great litter tray in the sky, Kyle had placed one of Ali's socks in the middle of the kitchen for me - a token of his love.

Socks loomed large when I was cycling and again when I got into running, and as I really got into running, things began to change.

My first running socks were my cycling socks. Then as I ran a bit more, I started to worry about blisters, so I got 1000 mile socks (they are good!) and those brilliant twin skin Hilly socks.

My first summer of running, I had to think about what length of socks to wear - all that running on the beach meant sand got into my shoes when I wore short sockettes giving me awful  blisters which took ages to heal. So I got long socks to keep the sand out; I got over wearing knee length socks for the first time since second year at school.  My sock collection was beginning to get serious and my horizons widened further.

Next came the injury, and yes there were more sock-related consequences. After doing my calf in I got seriously into compression socks as the sock of choice, I really liked the way they made my legs feel all wrapped up safely.

That was followed by a too brief but very enjoyable sock free period when I got into barefoot running. I am by nature a non- sock wearer, I love to feel the earth under my feet, but dear reader, as Borgen's husband says: 'sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do' and the socks had to come back.

My deformed feet mean I have to work extra hard to run and they don't absorb impact properly, so I can't run barefoot (at least whilst training for my marathon).  To work round my limitations, I have to minimise the physical impact of running on my body. It's basically the same stuff you do to avoid shin splints - wear cushioned shoes; run on soft surfaces, take rest days.

All has been hunky dory with the new regime, but I had a few niggles now and then. I analysed my training diary for an answer.  When it was cold I had fewer niggles. Hmm, usually it goes the other way. It wasn't speed, it wasn't route, it wasn't shoes. Then I twigged. When it got cold I wore my lovely thick padded winter socks and of course they absorb more impact than thin or even compression socks. I tried it out and the difference was indeed remarkable. The best socks I've found so far are Falke, but I'd be very interested to get some ideas from other runners.

Whilst I love the freedom of the barefoot, I also love my big cuddly padded socks, and so do my toes. It's much less of a sacrifice as the ice and snow set in up here! Wearing padded socks is like wearing one of those lovely comfy duvet coats round my feet and they snuggle in comfortably for a long run. On a very long run I might get a bit of a twinge, but every time I go out, it comes  on later, hurts less and goes away faster.  The positive effect of padded socks is cumulative.

This week I've had some good sessions, just made the most of any opportunity to get some miles and fitness into the pot before it snows.  I've done 25 miles running - my long run a 12 miles on the beach. I found a way of mixing trail and beach to get a bit further.  I've also done  a couple of spinning classes, lots of stretch and a body pump to get those muscles firing.  Also started trying out gels and thinking about fuelling and recovery.

Some niggles in my right knee, but Pam at Physio Plus has given me exercises and stretches. I had a soothing bath and used Napier's massage relaxing oil after my long run today and that's worked wonders, so no new bathroom until after the marathon!

Wherever you are, have a good week. The snow is making an appearance here, so I'm off to find my yak tracks!

Take care

Suex

You are what you think: mindful reflections on running

You know how the weather's been a bit rubbish this week? Well muggins was out and about, running  through what can only be described as North Berwick's equivalent of a monsoon, heading up a muddy slope, when I realised I was in survival mode.  My teeth were gritted, my smile had become a grimace and my head was down, eyes firmly fixed on the road in front.  Mentally and physically I'd hunkered down. I was doing a run, and that was that.  'That which doesn't kill me makes me stronger' I muttered as I turned into the wind and rain.

As I pulled myself upright physically, I smiled and my spirits lifted too.  How many times has every one of us uttered those words and how true it is that those toughest of times help us grow and strengthen.  Running in the rain is hardly the end of the world or indeed of any note at all really; as our Madeiran walking guide said to us 'it's only water' (what he didn't know was that at that very moment, the Icelandic Volcano was spewing out the ash that meant we came home by boat!).

Another favourite quote is the one from Hilary Clinton - about not wasting a good crisis.  Somehow despite the bad stuff, the seeds of hope and a better future are often closest to us when the going gets tough. And there is something very powerful about getting something good out of the hard stuff in life, it feels like somehow things even out in the end.

As I ran on, I was thinking about the tv programmes about the Olympic greats and all the studies that show that the truth of the Buddhist quote that we are what we think.  I've coped with missing my marathon and my calf injury by seeing my calf as teacher and a guide that will help me on my running journey, wherever that takes me.  I'm still being amazed by how that calf is keeping me right, reminding me that every thought has consequences. In lots of ways, it was my running equivalent of a near death experience - a serious health warning to change my ways or else - and it certainly did the trick. Maybe it's best to say it's still guiding me, there are no guarantees in life I know.

It's helped me re-write my personal rule book.  I used to have a general rule on no stopping until I finished whatever I was up to. I've seen me up ladders trying to stay awake with a paintbrush in my hand at 2am rather than leave a job unfinished. Looking at the wall in the cold light of the next morning, I could see that it hadn't been my best paint job.    From somewhere I managed to develop running rules too, like I have to run non stop, walking not allowed; and  I have to do a long run every week. Keep going 'til you drop might have its moments, but I no longer think it's the right rule to live or run by - the dropping bit can be a bit literal!

My new rules are to listen to my body and obey,  to focus on improving my running form and not to push myself hard on more than one run each week.  If I do a long run, I can't do hills. If I do a speed run, I can't do long distance.   It's strange not to get out for a good long session each week.  But  I've rather enjoyed getting that bit of time back, though I feel a bit guilty saying that.  And I return to my long run with a new vigour and energy and appreciation - absence truly does make the legs grow fonder.

There's another valuable gift that my injury is giving me - I'm learning to be disciplined and take control.  Running, and indeed life in general,  for me can sometimes be like taking a lively and enthusiastic golden retriever for a walk, my thoughts go bounding off dragging me after imaginary rabbits and interesting distractions only coming to rest when exhausted or hungry. So when I hear that little voice saying 'an extra mile? go on, go on!', I have to say 'no'.

So what if I can do 2 more miles, that's not the point, I know I can run further than is good for me. What I need to learn is discipline and control, I have to practice hard on these, it's quite a challenge for an old hippy 'go with the flow' person like me. But the deal is, when I get a better grip on things I can say 'yes' if it's the right thing to do.  They do say willpower and discipline work like a muscle, so f I can extend this discipline to cake and toast, I'm sorted!

My running journey is proof to me that I am what I think. Everyone's journey is different and it's a deeply personal experience that touches the very heart of who we are. That's so clear in the stories of the heroes and sheros we see all around us during this fabulous summer of sport and it makes their achievements even more memorable and awesome.

It's been a good running week for me despite the weather. Heavy spin class, my 5 miles and 5 hills route with my first ever series of hill sprints at the end (I only did 4 sprints, but I get the gist!). Also a fabulous sunny morning, speedy barefoot 3 miles on the beach and a long sunny 7 miler run. Distance and rigour building slowly.

North Berwick is always a beautiful place to run, but in the sun it is truly stunning - as you can see from my mid-run snap.

So onwards and upwards as they say. Raise a glass to our Tour Champion, what a great achievement. Have a great week's running and only 5 more sleeps until the Olympics!!

Take care

Sue

Barcelona 2012: cheering from the sidelines

Who could ever turn down a weekend with your loved one in one of your favourite cities in the world in perfect spring weather? Not me!  I had some minor reservations about going to Barcelona, but life is short and holidays are precious, so off we went.  Barcelona did not disappoint, how could it?  It is a truly magnificent city and what a setting for a marathon. Wow.

We'd picked a lovely hotel within walking distance of the race start and finish.  The day of what should have been my first marathon, dawned bright and sunny.  We woke to the universal sound of the pre race DJ getting everyone psyched up and ready to trot. I could feel my legs wanting to get out there and warm up too!  But my brain went numb, I suddenly was very indecisive - should I go and watch or just pretend it wasn't happening and get on with the day? Luckily,  Ali took control and we headed off to watch.  I'm, so glad I did.

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The start was magnificent. The totally over the top fountains were on full blast, ticker- tape flew everywhere and the place was thronged. The runners, like always, were every shape and size imaginable and came from all over the world. The start was emotional: everyone full of hope, determination and courage for the miles ahead. Some runners looked strong and sure; others looked like they were seriously going to struggle to manage 5K never mind a marathon. An older woman with a grey pony tail; the nut brown man in what looked suspiciously like speedos, the guy running with the racing buggy. I wanted to shout out that I should be with them, that I was one of them, but I didn't.

For the first time, I saw the end of the start of a marathon. I was amazed how many people came late and had to run to catch up. I'd just assumed that everyone arrived on time and if you got there late, tough! It might have been the clock change that did it - the clocks went forward that morning.  I was also surprised to see quite a few obviously injured runners crossing the start line, obviously in pain before they'd even started their marathon. I don't know if any of the hobblers made it. I hope whatever happened they are okay. I was glad I wasn't running. My leg hurt just walking, my hamstring was stuck in a massive nippy knot and my toe throbbed. Any delusions I had about running were gone and I felt at peace as they headed off.

A moment's reflection as I watched the runners disappear into the city; a curative hug from Ali and then off for breakfast. We took the metro and headed to the beach. It was mobbed with spectators heading to cheer on loved ones at the next stop down the line. I have never seen so much lycra, everyone was a runner that day many bedecked in other marathon T shirts, worn with pride, signalling they were bona fide members of the marathoner club. There were even one or two folk with Barcelona Marathon running numbers on the Metro train.  One guy tucked in the corner was carefully hiding his number under his jacket. Surely no one would nip onto the metro rather than run 26.2 miles?????

The beach area of Barcelona is amazing. It was regenerated for the Olympics and is now a fantastic open gym and activity area. Walkers, strollers, cyclists, roller bladders, runners, joggers, dog walkers, uni cyclers, nordic stick walkers, skateboarders, scooter riders - you name it, folk were out doing it.  All day long a mass of people make their way up and down the flat walkway that goes for miles along the beachfront. On the beach itself children and adults played volley ball and football and ran about. I saw my first (and I hope, my last) naked jogger. (Male if you must know and not in the first flush of his youth - no David Beckham I'm afraid).  It makes you realise that if you give people good healthy spaces they will get out and use them - good weather helps! Mind you, there were an awful lot of folk smoking which is a real downside to going to Spain sadly.

About half way along we saw the runners and the 3.45 pacer in the distance and went to watch. They looked strong and were running well despite a number of heavily lycra-d cyclists and tourists getting in the way. But the police did a great job of keeping things manageable and the locals wove across the road quickly and easily with scarcely a ripple. 

The rest of the day we could see the runners over there somewhere.  The later runners moved me most. The ones that find the marathon challenge really hard, that run for hours and hours, but still they keep going. Not to take away from the fast finishers, but I admire the guts and persistence of people who were still keeping on hours after the leaders were home and dry, that's guts and commitment.

That night we saw marathoners everywhere, many still in their tops and medals. The next morning, they were even more noticeable - loads of fellow breakfast eaters had developed a hobble since the previous morning and the breakfast buffet was annihilated by carb hungry runners.  Everywhere we went we saw Barcelona Marathon tee shirts and medals.

Watching as an injured runner was a bit weird, but I'm glad we did it. It was good to watch a marathon and think one day I'll do this. I'd never watched a marathon in real life since I've started running. The chance to stand back and watch with a rather more informed eye was useful. It's scary, it goes on for a long time, there's lots of people. Yup watching that run brought home to me what a challenge those 26.2 miles are.  The other thing I really appreciated was how much we rely on our loved ones to bear with us and support us. They give up their holidays, stand and watch folk running instead of going to art galleries (I think that counts as a plus myself). They listen to us prattling on about pacers and carb loading and all the rest of it!

So this is the sight I never saw (even if you imagine about 15K runners in front of me!). I have no regrets at watching instead of running and as I said, my leg was badly crocked so I could't have done it anyway. As it turned out, it wasn't my calf, I'd done my back in somehow travelling and had a trapped nerve. The physio sorted me and all is now working again, though a bit sore. Also I'm not sure an overseas marathon is the ideal first marathon for me, though the thought of carb loading and post marathon feasting in a city with such great food is very tempting!  I think it's going to be Edinburgh next year. Maybe. Not decided yet.

I got home to North Berwick with very happy memories of a lovely holiday in a fabulous city; a bit of a tan, a lot of ironing and a new found respect for the challenge of taking on that marathon and those that try.

We were very sad to see that Barcelona was a very different place later on that week, they are a lovely people and were so helpful and friendly. I hope it all gets resolved soon.

Whatever you're up to, have a great time. Even if things don't go quite to plan, they usually work out in the end!

Take care

Suex

Being Tigger

I've always loved Tigger and I have my moments when I'm bouncy, bouncy, bouncy, bouncy, fun, fun, fun, fun fun!   Tigger bounces back and I've had to do that a few times, including now.  It's been a slog but my inner Tigger is bursting through and it feels good.

The grown up version of Tigger is being resilient - a word that's  cropping up everywhere I look at the moment. This usually tells me there's something I need to pay attention to, so I decided to have a little ponder.

I like a bit of definition as you know, so here's what the dictionary says about resilience:

1 the ability of a substance or object to spring back into shape; elasticity: nylon is excellent in wearability and resilience.2 the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness: the oftenremarkable resilience of so many British institutions.

Now doesn't that just say it all! You can't get very far in life without resilience.

I remember very clearly the first time the word 'resilience' made me stop and think. About five years ago  I was struggling badly to cope with everything and felt very close to the edge. Mum and Dad needed more and more care and I was travelling up and down to Leeds to sort out food, medication, the care system. We were trying to get them moved to live near us which Mum really didn't want to do and with a major recession about to start. We were negotiating the care system on both sides of the Border for Dad and buying and selling houses to get us all to North Berwick (we bought and sold 7 in total). At the same time I had to change jobs and my back packed in so I'd lower back pain and couldn't exercise my stress away. This was when I was getting really, really fat. It was a really hard time on every level.

The crunch came in my annual appraisal, something that I find incredibly stressful at the best of times. It was booked for the afternoon of my first  regular mammogram screening and by the time I got to my desk I was a bit tired and emotional. We got started and for once instead of just ignoring what I'd been through (largely because I was about to cry!) I told my boss and said I wasn't sure it was the best time. He agreed and said just in passing as I left the room, 'you're very resilient Sue'.

At the time I wasn't sure if being resilient was good or bad - there must be something wrong with me if I needed to be resilient, surely I should just cope and not make a meal of it. Don't people just get on with it and not make a fuss? They certainly don't want to cry at work or tell their boss just as they're about to have their appraisal. Anyway I just got on with it. Things got much better, life went on, everything got sorted.

I realised as I thought about it, that I'm being resilient again. The clue was wanting to cry at inappropriate moments and bursting into tears over a tv programme.  Things have stacked up again. The calf injury (you know all about that), having to change jobs again; Mum's care needs going up a major notch and I'm struggling to cope with all the demands on my time and my emotions. Yet again, when I need it most, I can't run,  so those stress chemicals are washing round my system. I don't know the science but I am sure that I want to cry to wash them out. Much better to sweat them away.

Anyway, I've decided I'm not going to cope, I am going to be resilient, in fact I'm going to do more than that, I'm going to bounce back.  I'm reconnecting with my inner Tigger. Tigger doesn't just cope, he bounces through life with zest, fun and with his chums.

I've got lots to make me bounce like Tigger.  I have family and friends (real and virtual!) who are wonderfully caring and supportive; Mum may not always know who I am but she loves me anyway and appreciates everything we do for her and this won't last forever.  I have my health and my passion for life, I live in a lovely place, I have a job I love and I will run again.  I am indeed rich and blessed in all the things that really matter and that make life sweet.

It's a cliche to say you should count your blessings, and that's a very Tigger thing to do. Well maybe Tigger doesn't count blessings, he just enjoys them.  It's blessings large and small that get us through the bad times as well as making the good times great.  And of course if you're not feeling bouncy today, there's always that other saying - that which does not kill me makes me stronger! Good times, bad times, they all change.

A quick running update. I got a major bounce from a 10 minute run in the sunshine yesterday. All kitted up, with garmin, yes I know it's daft but it was an important statement. All I need to do now is run a few more of those joined up and I'm laughing. What's great is my leg feels better for running, so my confidence is growing too.  I can now walk downstairs and run for the bus. And I am starting to think a marathon this year might be possible after all..... Now isn't that a Tigger-type thought!

Thank you to all of you who help me bounce!  Take care everyone, keep bouncing!

Suex

I Ran. #thatisall

Well finally, here it is,  the blog I've been dying to write for 6 weeks 6 days and 16 hours.

I  RAN!

A massive thank you to all my running and non running chums who have kept me going over the last few weeks. I hope I never ever have to return the favour.

It was short - 6.21 minutes of walking and running, but boy was it sweet. Pam the physio got me all sorted and we went for a trot by the beach.

Like learning to walk, those first running steps were amazing, dizzy, emotional. This was a run I have appreciated more than any other I've done, and I will remember I think forever.

It felt very strange at first, like my body didn't know what to do. My feet were flat, my legs were stiff and I was very very unsure it would work.  But then everything started moving and I knew it was going to be okay. What was brilliant that I had a little try at Chi running and .... it works! I've been thinking about it and listening to it for a few weeks and even though only had a little go, I could feel the difference.

I am going to enjoy the return to running. I am going to savour the gradual build up like drinking a very fine wine or a gourmet meal.  Every step, every second is going to be experienced and enjoyed. I will be slow and focussed and strong. I will remember how lucky I am to be able to do it.

I have as long as I want to do build up the speed and distance and that feels good. I am so glad I'm not rushing to do a marathon. My calf muscle will be my guide back to my running form and I will forever remember it when I run. I plan to check in regularly and see how me and that calf muscle are doing.  I will think of a name for it. Rowena suggested a tattoo, I think it might be a mental one!

For now I just want to run forever and never ever be injured again. I don't care if I run a marathon. I am a grateful humble runner. If I can stay like this I will be fine.

The wait is over. I ran. I run.  I am.

Take care, run safe.

Suex

Into the starting blocks

The end is nigh. I am, I sincerely hope, now in the final week of not running. What a relief - for us all I'm sure. You must be as fed up of this as I am!

For all but the first week of the injury I've kept up my exercise routine. At the core have been physio, upper body conditioning and Pilates, gradually built up as my poorly leg could take it. Good for keeping some muscle tone and discipline,  great for staying positive, feeling like an athlete and keeping in touch with the healing process.

This week I got back to the gym - hooray! I got a lovely welcome back from Kevin at Virgin Omni and it was great to be back despite the usual busy-ness of the gym this time of year. I know people complain about gyms, but the joy of being able to exercise again beats all. I'd have made do with a massive hamster wheel if it meant I could run.   There's a machine for everything even for the crocked runner.

My first triathlon - 10 minutes on the bike; 10 minutes on the cross trainer and 10 lengths of the pool. No resistance, very slow, very gradual. Savouring the movement of my limbs and paying close attention to the messages from the muscles - testing, trying. There were as many complaints and grumbles from my non injured leg which rightly feels it deserves a rest after the last 6 weeks of keeping the show on the road.

As my non-running draws to an end, I'm coming to the end of my first reading of Chi Running. A phased running recovery will fit well with the transition to chi running - physically and mentally. I've tried Chi walking and it's helping a lot. Relaxing my lower leg helped me stop limping and start to balance the legs again.

Recovery has forced me to slow down and think about what I'm doing. It also makes me pay close attention to my body and what it's telling me. That damaged muscle lets me know how it's reacting and I am actively listening. A nip slows me down very effectively and that enables me to correct my posture too.

If you'd asked me before I would have said of course I'm listening to my body. I heard nips and niggles, but I wasn't focussed enough on how my body was reacting - not like I am now.  My head knew I was running too fast, but I wasn't getting feedback from the bit of me that does the hard work. I want to keep the focus in future so that as I recover physically I don't just speed up and do it all again.

I plan to treat myself to some new ultra light Brooks. I am going to include barefoot beach walks and runs in my training and I will be running with Danny on the iPod. Cross training is back in, it worked well before and I will continue my core Pilates and yoga.

The external pressures on me to run are removed.  Recovery will dictate my running until I'm back to normal. I will run that marathon when I'm ready, not when I can fit it in with everything else.  I know I can do it, I just don't know when yet.  You know things are bad when they're a learning experience, and this certainly has been an education, but it will soon be history.

Soon I will be off running again. I can't wait to get my legs and buns of steel back - my legs are so soft that the cats have taken to sitting on my lap again.

Friday, I'm back in the race. Today I'm hunkered in the blocks ready to go. No false starts.  Cue the snow!

Happy running!

Take care

suex

Runner Reborn: the end of a dream?

It's been a big week on the recovery front. Physically I am doing great, taking great (baby) strides.  I've braved public transport and climbed from the bowels of Waverley Station to the dizzy heights of Calton Hill.  I've survived the inhumanity of being knocked over by fellow commuters who think trying to hold on is pushing in. (I really would have kicked that man but I'd have fallen over).

I can walk like a normal person for short distances and as long as I don't go too fast or too far.  I've done a few low impact aerobics workouts and Zumba. (I've been really impressed by Jillian Michael's 30 day shred). And of course keeping up the Pilates to keep my core strong and balanced. Physically, I'm getting there.

But as I've said before, the really big thing about recovery is not physical; it's mental, emotional and spiritual (or whatever you call it).   Getting an injury knocks your confidence; it makes you feel like a rubbish runner; it's pants being patient and waiting. Somehow you feel you should be working through the pain and you're a wimp for giving into it.  Coping with the pressures to get out there and run is tough, but like every other hard thing in life, if it doesn't kill you, it makes you stronger.

Last week I mentioned I asked my Twitter chums how they avoid injury.  @Pyllon suggested Chi Running; @rowenanews reminded me about the marathon goals that matter more than time.  Well, these seeds have taken root and are starting to sprout and they have made me look long and hard at some stuff I'd been trying to avoid.

In this enforced time out, I have an opportunity to be a better runner. As I start running again, I can start from scratch, using the experience I've gained and the wisdom of other runners.  I can ditch all the stuff I've picked up along the way and that's holding me back.  I need to find my inner runner again. I know if I was running any thinking would be trampled under my bouncing Brookes; but because I am so totally and absolutely fed up with not running, I am very open to anything that means I can avoid this happening ever, ever again.

 Desperation has made me accept a few home truths:

Hard Truth number one.  I'm not going to be in good enough form to run the Barcelona Marathon this year. Fact. I have decided. Whether or when I do a Marathon can wait until I'm back on my feet and running normally again. That hurts, but it has to be so.

Hard Truth number two: I was partly responsible for my injury. Very hard to write that one! I am Mrs Sensible. I read, I prepare, I do as I'm told. How can it be my fault? Of course it's not about fault (!), I just have to accept that there's things I can do to make me a better runner and reduce the risk of injury.

Hard Truth number three: I need to rediscover my inner runner, the runner in me that knows how to train, who knows how to improve. Following schedules and training plans is not the answer, I need to work out what suits me, that probably means running less and cross training more.

It's hard putting it all down in black and white. It's hard to kill your dream, it seems like such a defeat and a failure.  But I want to run forever more than I want to run a marathon in a few weeks time.  I started off well just running in my own way and I got 1/2 marathon and 10k times I am dead chuffed with. Marathon training in a reduced timescale stopped me doing what comes naturally. It was like getting into a very tight pair of trainers and the consequences were dire. I need to get back to that Sue and let her guide my running.

So, onwards and upwards. I am going to use Chi Running to help me find a better way to run, not just technically but inside.  I will do that marathon, I know I have it within me, but I will do it when I'm ready.

I'm hoping to run again soon. I can feel it in my quads. I just hope the sports bra and Garmin are in working order!

Take care and if you're running or recovering, be great!

Suex

The Waiting Room of Enlightenment: Reasons to stay cheerful

Recovery might be a journey, but it's more like a waiting room sometimes. You're just sitting about waiting for that train, plane or automobile to transport you away. You can good use of the time reading, meditating or learning Japanese. You can entertain yourself people-watching or plotting your perfect murder mystery. I think you'd be surprised by how many of the folk at the bus stop are plotting murder and mayhem behind closed lids (or maybe you're not!). Or of course you can rant about late trains; messed up timetables and the general decline of civilisation. The thing about waiting is that you can't control when you move physically, but it can be just the right place to be.

I'm still waiting to run and this train is a long time coming.  I am at that critical point where I'm on the cusp of a little jog, but if I go too soon I will undo my hard work and patience. It is so tempting. I know I'm taking longer than most people do to get back into my trainers and I am feeling such a failure! Yes, even at the time in my life when I am almost certainly paying the price of  too much too soon, I am battling with my speed obsession again and putting pressure on myself to heal faster, dammit!

I want to run. I want to run now. I want to run my first marathon in 8 weeks. Today was glorious day, a fantastic day for running, a good long run. I should have done 18 miles today, totally manageable if I'd not got injured. I am so cross, frustrated, stupid. I'd kick myself if I wasn't scared of another injury!

But I can't run. I can do almost anything but run. The muscle I've ripped is exactly the one that springs me up into the air. All the others - that keep me on the ground, that let me do side planks and toe taps and one legged bridging and squats -  work absolutely fine. It's just that one little muscle. I am sending it lots of love and attention; taking it on little walks to whet its appetite; willing it to get better soon and re join the party - please!

As ever in this amazing world we live in, as I start to despair, the universe sends me gifts. For running these usually come via Twitter. First, Chi Running. Yes, almost a month since I hit the 'send' to Amazon, Danny Dreyer's book on ChiRunning arrived on my doormat and it sits in front of me now. I've looked on the website and flicked through the book and I am really excited and inspired.  On a quick read it's got links with Pilates. I like to have theories behind my training and improving and I'm a big Pilates fan. Pilates got me through some emotionally tough years and helped me manage the chronic back pain I got from being massively fat and massively stressed. Pilates was critical to my body (and spirit) recovering then and has been a constant friend ever since. I have used it a lot over the last month. I look forward to Chi Running helping me through my current recovery and taking me into my new running future. I have high hopes. I am going to read Danny as I travel on the train every day to and from work and I've already started practicing Chi Walking - weird but strangely liberating.

The second Twitter angel was Rowena, one of my running sheroes, who does amazing runs in amazing places and has been massively supportive of me and lots of other hobblers and limpers. Rowena says:

My goals have been pretty simple: finish the same day I start, with a smile on my face, and injury free. 


These are great goals and Rowena reminded me that when I started thinking about a marathon I had no time goals, no pace, no strategy. I just wanted to finish a marathon.  I still do just want to run a marathon and more than ever I want to smile and I don't want to get an injury - that would be failure.  Maybe I could do Barcelona in 8 weeks time, but I won't do it at any cost,  it's not just me that pays the price. Still too soon to be definite, but I have set my parameters.

My third Twitter angel is Johnny, who is also battling an injury. Johnny makes me smile and laugh out loud on Twitter so much that the folk on the train think I'm a mad woman. We both have knackered right legs so can't even do a three-legged race between us.  We will both run again and I hope together, maybe the Edinburgh BUPA 10K again....

So I remain in the waiting room that is recovery, waiting for the train that will take me back to running fitness and onto my marathon.  I would never have taken time out to reflect on my running if I'd not been forced to.  Everything happens for a purpose; every nightmare brings opportunities. I know this is nature's way of telling me to slow down. Not just to run slower (though by gum I've had the choice ripped out of my hands) but also to slow down in setting my running goals when I have so much else to do  A marathon is a heck of a long distance for someone like me and I am not invincible. This injury will probably stop me running Barcelona this year. But it will not stop me from running my marathon and it won't stop my lovely North Berwick runs; Race for Life; the Edinburgh Half and every other bit of running me and Danny are going do do. And it won't stop me smiling!

So, thanks to my running chums on Twitter yet again for making my waiting room a place of enlightenment and discovery. Watch this space for what comes next!

Take care,

Sue


ps if I ever, ever complain about not wanting to run or moan about losing my running mojo - shoot me!

In Recovery - Ready to run .....

A word that's been very much part of my life over the last few weeks is recovery, specifically recovering to run.  For some folk, they get injured, they get better and that's it. But for many of us it's a more complex and less certain process. And it's hard.

Here's what the dictionary says:

Recovery:  a return to a normal state of health, mind, or strength.  The action or process of regaining possession or control of something stolen or lost. Also  recovery shot - golf stroke bringing the ball from the rough or from a hazard back onto the fairway or the green. Football an act of taking possession of a fumbled ball. In rowing, cycling, or swimming, the action of returning the paddle, leg, or arm to its initial position ready to make a new stroke.


There's lots of good stuff in here that inspires me and captures the recovery process for me. Of course it's all about getting back to normal, but I like the idea of taking back control, regaining strength. I like also that it's physical and mental, that recovery is an end and a beginning.  


The definition sounds so positive and active and I need to be more positive about recovery; about my eventual return to running. I need to focus on getting ready to run.


A huge part of my recovery is about regaining confidence. When I first get an injury I am very cautious and self protective. I'm a catastrophic thinker - something happens and I immediately extrapolate the graph to the end of the world. It's a well know psychological problem you'll be glad to know.  So I worry terribly that the injury is going to get worse. I worry that some small movement, slip, accident, knock, will send me hurtling down that ladder; straight to jail, no passing go and it will be really serious this time. I was listening to Desert Island disks where an ex ballet dancer spoke about her ballet injury and how she needed someone she trusted to hold her hand and encourage her to dare to tackle the move that injured her. The confidence to take that risk was a critical part of her recovery. 


So this week, having found the positive things about not running, i.e. enjoying the here and now; I've been focussing on the future; on taking back control and getting a positive running-focussed mindset.  


My strategy is to start off with some easy risk free actions and move up from there SLOWLY - no frightening the horses. Here's what I've done since I last blogged:

• Deleted my old training schedule from my iPhone and calendars
• Done one hour of some kind of exercise every day - including physio, balance; upper body exercises and Pilates. 
• Practiced walking properly - very, very slowly
• Tried to drive - and stopped - ouch! even the thought of an emergency stop hurts
• Changed my thinking as I go down our stairs from re-living the ping to imaging I'm fixed and heading out for a nice long run
• Bought a mini bicycle machine to get those quads working until I can drive to the gym/pool and some new Pilates and workout DVDs 
• Got (and used!) a foam roller and compression tights
• Begun to think whether I want to risk running the Barcelona Marathon even if I am fit or wait until the autumn

Acting positive, even when I didn't really feel like it, really helped. I've gradually upped my risk taking, pushed the calf a bit, but not too much. I'm more in control and recovery is becoming an active thing, not just sitting on my bum (although I am doing a lot of that!).  


I'm surprised how tired I feel. Sometimes I focus on the loss of my Barcelona dream, of my fitness and those good running days stolen from me. Sometimes I'm sad; lost in the rough or abandoned in the sandpit as my running chums do a hole in one and are back in the Twitter clubhouse comparing notes. But that's neither use nor ornament as we say in Yorkshire and of course fine words butter no parsnips!


Recovery, just like running and any other challenge we set ourselves, is about mental strength, discipline and persistence. When I was dieting, I dealt with setbacks (eating the entire tub of ice cream; a nice bottle of Rioja) by just getting back onto the diet and not looking back. Usually I recovered my confidence, focus and drive to lose weight pretty quickly and easily. I need to do the same now for my running, but I don't have quite the control of the biological side of things!


The challenges of recovery are different for every one of us.  I'm a wimp. I need courage to take risks that might well make my injury a bit worse.  Other folk need the discipline not to run with an injury. I need to stop analysing how it all happened and focus on the future. Others need to spend longer learning from what went wrong before they look ahead. What is clear is that recovery is not easy for any of us, it tests us mentally and spiritually and so, like our damaged muscles, can make us stronger.


As I type, I have done my first set of very light calf raises and survived. That was really scary. I still can't walk very well or very far, but it will come.  Will I be able to make up over 2 months lost training and get fit to run a marathon in about 8 weeks when I can't even walk to the train station? Not sure yet, but whatever happens, all will sooner or later be fine.


This post is dedicated to everyone in recovery, whatever your challenge is. May you find the strength, courage, determination and wisdom to get through. And more than anything else, the hope and belief that you will get there.


Take care
Suex