Walking back to happiness, very very slowly.

Happy New Year everyone!

It's been almost 6 months since I last wrote a running blog. In that time I've barely run and I've  had to cut my walking down too. I decided not to bore myself and you with an in depth analysis of my injury like I usually do,  but it's a new year and I have to look forward and be hopeful, even though it will be some time before I run again.

If I say I've had an Achilles injury, many of you will know exactly what the problem is and maybe have shared the frustrations it brings. Long story very truncated, I ran and walked too much on soft sand last summer; all my walking on the beach was barefoot. At the same time I was gradually increasing my run rate and hill running. A recipe for a disaster made in runners' hell.

This nasty little injury has hit my physical and psychological Achilles heels and is challenging me on every level you can think of, it's taking ages and ages to recover.

I'm very disciplined in many ways - I do my physio exercises and don't run. You'd think that was enough, but it's not.  My heel is aggravated by almost anything you can think of. I've always struggled to see walking as exercise, walking is just what you do to get from A to B, it's as essential as breathing. Now every single step counts which of course means being mindful not just about running but about walking. Even those little trots you do if you're late for a meeting. Everything.

As well as mindfulness, recovery from my Achilles injury requires a lot of time and patience, things I tend to have relatively little of. I have good days when nothing hurts, but if I push even just a little bit too much the next day, I put my recovery back again. The surge of excitement that comes when I can walk briskly pain free for 30 minutes (the threshold) tends to lead me to doing a little bit more than I should and I pay the price.

It's like a massive game of snakes and ladders. Three times I've climbed to the brink of recovery only to push myself over the edge and back down to the bottom.  But I can't give up, I have to sort this or I'll never run or climb a hill again and that's unbearable.

Current status - I can walk 30 minutes briskly without pain if I'm wearing heels and only on the flat.  I  need a rest day or two afterwards or it starts to build up again. I'm focussing on the duration and speed of my more frequent shorter walks and gradually introducing the flats as they really increase the load on the Achilles.

As my lovely physio Emer says, I have to take control of this injury and I'm trying. I wish it would go away. I know it's wet and windy but hell, what does it matter of you can run?

Take care and do a run for me please!

Suex

Feels like taper madness... what happens when runners don't run

A long period of not running is a bit like a prolonged taper, it does weird things to your mind. When the running stops, that running-shaped bit of our lives becomes a void where there be dragons and monsters to work wyrd magick in our heads. When we taper, we have to trust the space of not running and it's often when we get a deeper understanding of running.  Not running because of an injury brings a similar void. I'm beginning to realise the importance of finding the value of 'not doing'; not running; whatever the reason for our stillness.

In my last post I found myself questioning the right to call myself a runner. It led to a lovely exchange with Bob, a Twitter chum and remarkable blogger.  Bob has a powerful story to tell about being a runner and not always being able to run (I don't want to spoil the story so will say no more!).  His tale helped me understand that I am indeed a runner even if I'm not on my feet. If you ever get fed up being injured and fear you're losing hope, read Bob's story and believe. Thanks to Bob I know that at a fundamental level that no matter what I do, I am a runner. #thatisall

As the week went on I got more and more aware of the vacuum created by not running and how clearly I can see how running has become a fundamental part of my life, of who I am and increasingly, my core survival strategy.   When things have been tough, running has got me through. Now that I've stood still for a while, I can see I've almost literally been running for my life the last wee while - to burn off stress and clear my mind. Running has given me a massive sense of achievement and self confidence that I can do what I set out to do. It has provided an escape from worries and fear. Running has gifted me friends, a positive attitude, resilience and more confidence than I have ever had about anything: ever. But I only truly understood this when I stopped running.

The weird thing is it's all crept up on me without me even noticing.  Three years ago I was doing one run a week and just beginning to think I might go for a half marathon.  I could easily slot a run into my life with almost no adjustment. I just had to find a bit of time - about an hour a week. I wore my  usual gym kit and shoes. I ate what I normally ate. Easy.

But over the last 3 years, the balance has shifted and quite often I'm working out how to juggle things round a run. The signs are visible everywhere I look.  The alarm set for the crack of dawn to squeeze a run in before work; protein shakes in the cupboards; more trainers than heels and drawers full of lycra.

Nature abhors a vacuum and I have felt a real desire to rush to fill the spaces with noise and ideas and plans and goals, but if I do that I lose the true value of being where I am.  So I'm not going to do that. I'm going to stay here for a while and see what emerges. I'll be running soon and I'll lose the perspective that not running gives me, the chance to reflect on my life from a different place.  The future lies in the spaces in between and it will emerge in  its own good time.

Every time I've taken time out of running I have gone back stronger and better and more fully a runner. The first time brought I discovered a Chi Running teacher and community that have helped me connect my mind and body and focus on form.  The second time I learnt how to  accommodate my less than perfect biomechanics (i.e. dodgy feet) and to balance my lop-sidedness. Now, I'm reflecting on where running fits into my life and how I want to run over the next stage of my life.

When we runners don't run for whatever reason, a space is created. What we do with that space is up to us. We can turn away from it, ignore it, freak out, pack it full of activity.  Or we can lean over the edge, take a peek at what lies within and wait for new things to happen. It  really is a case of watch this space!

Whether you're running or reflecting, have a great week.

Take care

Suex

Ich Bin Ein Runner

What is the defining feature of a runner?

It's only over the last two years I've come to define myself as a runner, even though I've run sporadically for over 50 years.  I'm very proud of being able to call myself a runner now that I feel I've earnt the right to the honour and there's no doubt that it has transformed and enriched every aspect of my life.

At the moment, I'm a runner who can't run. The fact that running is so much more than a physical act is painfully apparent to me just now. But what happens when you can't do the very thing that defines an important part of you? I might feel like a runner inside, but how do I proclaim my running identity when I'm not able to run? How do we runners recognise our ain people if they're not clad in lycra and trainers and out on the trot? When I see another runner and I'm not running I want a badge, an arm band, some way of letting them know that, although I am walking and in civvies, I run. I want to tell them - 'I'm a runner too, I just can't run at the moment!' I don't do this of course, I've come to learn that shouting at strangers is not acceptable behaviour.  If there's someone with me, I have been known to make a running-type comment just loud enough for the passing runner to hear so that they know I am not just an ordinary person, I am one of us. Sad but true.

But even though I can't physically run, I am still a runner. Being a runner means being part of a massive community of folk to compare notes with, to share tales of glory and woe with. The running community loves to chat about the great passion we share. We learn from each other and support each other and cheer each other on to greater feats. Though indisposed, I can still work on my running. I can read about and develop my understanding of running; I can blog and tweet - life savers for us runners who are off our feet.

 I'm finding the combination of injury-enforced time-out and connecting with the wider running community is taking me to interesting new places that will ultimately develop me as a runner. Because I'm injured I don't have an active running goal; no time; no race; no distance to focus on. This has enabled me to open up to new and better ways of doing things.  For those of us who tend to get carried away with enthusiasm in our running, injury time can be nature's way of making us take stock. So the really daft thing to do is ignore the importance of time out and waste its potential.

I'm finding the mental part of injury time is a bit like the process my mind goes through on a long run.  Once I settle down to accepting I'm here for a while, I begin to relax into where I am and just go with it and see where it takes me. Last time injury took me to Chi Running and my teacher Nick. This new long non-run is leading me to think about why I run, what drives me to get out there. I'm not sure why or where this will take me, but I know it's a journey I have to make.  I have to put on my mental training shoes and get out there beyond my psychological comfort zone.

I am a runner. I can't run, but that won't stop me and it doesn't take away the fact that I am a runner. I ran today. I sat in the garden with my eyes closed. In my mind's eye I visualised my favourite run.  I ran barefoot from North Berwick along the beach; splashing in the briny and leaving perfect Chi footprints from here to Yellowcraigs and back. I felt the sun on my face and the wind at my back (going and coming back - a delight of virtual runs!). The oystercatchers shrieked and the gannets were diving from a deep blue sky.  My muscles were strong and every bit of me was on perfect form and my mind felt clear. I could run forever.

Hope you've had a good week, free from injury of the body or mind.

Take care,

Suex

Proceed until apprehended: Going to the wire

Well here I am, one week to go til the the Lochaber Marathon. It's been another roller coaster - can I run? can't I run? - kind of week. Less than 7 days to go and I'm still not sure.

The best news is that I know what the problem is, thanks to my Physio Pam. Something happened to a nerve in my mid back and it's triggered all kinds of mayhem in my hips. I've had a bad back now and then for years. It comes on when I'm stressed and sit too long on uncomfortable chairs.  Ironically, the last time I had it was in Barcelona (watching instead of running the marathon last year) when the airplane seats tipped me over the edge.

Not great news, but it does mean there's a chance I might run next week, so I'm not giving up just yet; hope, as they say, springs eternal. In that spirit I hit the treadmill on Friday morning before work.

I started slowly and focussed on the feedback I was getting. I made myself stretch every 2k. My legs felt heavy and my running style lumpen and leaden. Was that the outcome of my extreme tapering or nerve/muscle stuff?  I went into Chi Running mode and focussed on form and tried to run smoothly. Mentally this was great, it distracted me from the experience of pain and kept me feeling in control, but I couldn't find a way of influencing the pain through posture (which surprised me).   The pain came and went and moved around with no clear pattern; it certainly didn't get worse as I ran, but it didn't ease off either. Just as I thought things were settling down, it came back and kicked in hard. Stretching usually helped, but not always, sometimes it seemed to make it worse.

I realised pretty quickly that the pain itself wasn't the main problem; the real danger was that I would let the pain affect my form and I'd do some serious damage. I took myself back to me training with Nick last year and used the different Chi form focusses to make sure that no matter what the pain got up to, I was running right.

Having a proper diagnosis and knowing that I wasn't damaging my body helped a lot and gave me the chance to get into my running head again.  As the pain came and went and sometimes (worst of all) got stuck,  I remembered the early days of my training. When I started marathon training, I struggled with sore knees, ankle tendonitis and ITB strain until I got insoles to compensate for my gammy feet and lop sided pelvis.  Using my Chi thinking and through experience, I learnt not to freak out when I felt  pain but to go with it and see what happened. I learnt the value of relaxing my legs and running from the core and letting my body accommodate and adapt.  In those early days, I learnt to observe the pain and use my mind to keep me relaxed and focussed and my form to let me keep running. I'd been running so well and so free of pain in the latter part of my training that I'd forgotten how determined I'd been in those early days.

After the run, I felt fine and did loads of amazing yoga and Pilates thanks to Stacey, Richard & Kate at VirginActive gym. I've also caught up on Coronation Street and Prisoners Wives whilst rolling around on lumps of foam and sitting on tennis balls. Everything felt good, so this morning I was stiff but decided to try another run.

It wasn't too cold, but I wanted to give my muscles total care so I wore compression and thermal tights and headed off along the beach. It was so wonderful to run by the sea again. It was drizzly and cloudy but not busy (I avoided all dogs!). This time my running felt smooth and fluid. I felt my legs switch from feeling sleepy and lazy to starting to work properly, not surprising given my extreme tapering. The rain on my face, no wind (NO WIND!!!!), the sound of the waves, it was bliss. I felt great.

I went slowly and focussed on body-sensing. I was fine until about mile 4 when pain began to surface.  Stretching sorted out the butt pain, but it came back in the next muscle. I eventually worked out how to stretch that one, but by mile 5, it was getting seriously tight, too tight to run without limping so I stopped (one of my rules). I walked back briskly, the pain went if I pressed on the muscle but any running set it off again.  Gradually, the leg calmed down helped my heat, ice, stretching, rollering and Napier's miracle muscle rub (thank you Janice!).

So, I'm less confident today that I'll be up to 26.2 miles next Sunday, but I'm not giving up hope just yet.  I've been inspired by Facebook chats with Pam, Leah and Celina and the other Chi runners. We've been talking about how every run is a training run. That made me think that I could just see next Sunday's marathon as a training run, not for doing 26.2 miles, but for just starting a marathon.

I don't know what it's like to start a marathon; to line up, to keep a very slow pace and not be rushed by the excitement and other runners. I would learn an awful lot of useful stuff as prep for a marathon and no learning is ever ever wasted.  I might only manage 5 miles, but that wouldn't be the point of running.

Is it daft (or worse selfish) to even think of starting a marathon I almost certainly won't finish? Or would it be a wasted opportunity not to give it a try?

 I have my boundaries:

I won't run if Pam advises me not to, I run to be stronger and fitter not damaged and I'd miss my real runs - the ones on the beautiful beaches of East Lothian - if I got an injury.

I might run with pain as long as it's not damaging me. My experience on Friday showed me that pain and damage are not inextricably linked and then I read a great blog on pain and running by Tom Goom, which totally confirms my (very limited) experience on pain and running.

I won't run if it looks like I'll have to walk most of the way or take 6 hours. I want to run a marathon not walk one, walking 26.2 miles is not meaningful to me, plus I don't want to keep the marshals away from their tea! I'd sooner stop at 5 miles

You probably think I'm mad and I should just accept I'm not going to run and get over it. But I know it's not yet time for acceptance. I will not accept something's impossible when there is still hope, however faint. I plan to proceed until well and truly apprehended, chained and shackled. That's the only way to tackle the hard stuff and the only way that I will feel good about not running.  I'm pretty sure I can run 26.2 miles, I'm not sure I can do it next Sunday.

Clocked 10 miles this week (hooray!) and more yoga and pilates than you'd think humanly possible.

Hope you've all had good weeks and are running, walking, cycling, living happy and healthy.

Fingers crossed for next week....

Take care!

Suex

Where there's life there's hope!

(photo from Lochaber Athletic Club page)

Day 99 in the would-be marathon runner house. Sue has been training for her marathon now for 14 weeks and 1 day. She's been in enforced taper for the last two weeks. Mileage this week - a big fat zero.

On the long and winding road to the marathon, you get training guides for the running bit, but of course the mental and emotional stuff is just as hard.  I was fine with getting out there and running and I didn't miss a single training session because I didn't feel like it.  My mental challenge was to not get carried away and over do things, to maintain and develop my form and not my speed. I had to learn to adapt as I pushed my asymmetrical body to pound the ground mile after mile. And of course to cope with the ever present possibility that at my age and with my deformed feet, legs of different lengths and iffy hips, I was pushing my body a little bit too far.

My marathon prep has been as much about staying optimistic and positive; keeping my spirits and heart lifted when it looked like my knees or my feet weren't going to make it to the end and just keeping believing that I will get there - one day.

I've had a few false starts, so  thought I'd made it this time when I hit my final training week in good form. But then things went belly up and I had to start taper early and pull out of my final long run last Saturday.

Since then I've been RICE-ing, 'resting', Pilates-ing and trying to get to the bottom of the mysterious pains that move about and appear and disappear without any clear pattern. And I've had to face up to the distinct possibility that, yet again, I'll be watching, not running, a marathon.

Hip pain is notoriously hard to diagnose apparently and I haven't bucked that rule. I had a very painful TFL immediately after the aborted long run last week, but it responded very quickly to @tomgoom's suggested treatment. By the time I hit the physio on the Monday evening I had to run round the block to get even a faint memory of a niggle.

Judith went through the possibilities. Hips sound, knees sound, nothing structural, no muscle problems. Nothing hurt except running, the one thing I really really wanted to do! This suggested something weight bearing and a few deep prods and pokes suggested the possibility of an inguinal hernia. This is a split in the ligament next to the hips. The signs were it was probably a tiny one (at the moment); the hip pain was referred pain explaining its unpredictability and flighty nature.

This was not a good diagnosis to get. I got home and googled for all I was worth. It seems that not many women get it but we can do. The male runners seemed just to whack on extra tight lycra, take pain killers (or not!) and run with it in that macho way that MAMIL's do.  I didn't even contemplate that approach. Whether I'm a wimp or not, my pain was definitely not runnable with, not least because it brought with it impaired mobility- ie a totally seized up hip and a pronounced hobble.  To add to the risk factors, I've been running almost entirely on soft sand and through woods, a weight bearing injury on tarmac was not going to feel any better than on the sand dunes. I didn't want to walk a marathon so the prognosis for making the start line was not good.

As I pondered the probable end of my hopes for Lochaber, I was sad, but not desperate. When I thought about running with a split ligament, it just felt wrong. I saw 26.2 miles; 5 plus hours of not just pain, but a worsening injury that could take a long time to heal, might even need surgery. I also know that the effort to work round the pain would put other bits of me at risk too. It was clear to me that this is as much about the quality of my running as the simple number of miles. I want to feel good when I start, I want to run (as much as I can) not walk it and I want to finish tired, sore but healthy and ready to run again soon.

But of course, without some sort of scan, I don't know it's definitely a hernia, so I kept an optimistic heart and an open mind. On Tuesday morning, I headed off to the GP with my diagnosis. He did the usual tests (lots of coughing!) and couldn't find any suggestion of a hernia. My symptoms were classic hip pain and he also pointed to a massive bruise on my hip, quite yellow by now and probably from the leaping dog. My GP said I needed to rest from running and go back if it didn't go away. The mystery thickened.

I decided to do some gentle experimentation. Judith said if it was a hernia then I'd be fine to walk and run to tolerance.  I did my Pilates class with ne'er a twinge and had a quick go on the treadmill. First I did a little slow run. I barely managed 1k before the niggle started so stopped immediately and tried fast walking and walking up hills.  Nothing hurt. Not a twinge. I was delighted. This meant I could do a bit of taper training, handy if I could eventually run and good for morale.

But that night my hip kept me awake. I was in agony.  I began to think I didn't have a hernia after all. I started to worry it was something really serious, a stress fracture in the hip maybe? That's also hard to diagnose and you can end up out of action for a long long time.  No more running, no more treadmills. I did almost panic.

But I could walk and keeping moving definitely felt better for my hip than sitting or lying. So Ali and I had a lovely long Easter Saturday walk up to Yellowcraigs and back (my short run route!).  I felt fine except for a bit of stiffness in the hip which disappeared over a bowl of delicious soup at the Dirleton Cafe.  Yards from home, after about 6 miles walking, I got that now familiar sharp pain in the hip and  couldn't walk. Ali had to run back and get the car to drive me home.

Despite the pain, I was quite pleased to have a bit more of the jigsaw, another clue.  Walking for a long time, even on soft sand made it worse. Short walks and standing were fine. The pain went almost immediately I stopped walking.  Lying on my hip made it worse. It started to look like I might have hip bursitis which is linked to leg length disparity (tick), repeated activity (tick) and a tight ITB (tick).   I'm back to the physio tomorrow so will find out more then.  Bursitis is treatable with rest and a steroid injection. I might just make it....

As I type this I don't know if I will be able to run 26.2 miles  in less than two weeks time. I have a sense of hope, but I'm not sure if it's realistic or not, it's too soon to tell. But I know that whilst it would be a blow, running that distance on that date is really not what it's about.

For over 3 months I have trained diligently and hard and never missed a session except to avoid injury.  I've learnt from last year's calf tear and run stronger than ever before. I've done the hard work, I've put the hours in; I've built the mileage up; I've been out in some of the worst weather we've had for years.

Training for the marathon has been an amazing experience. I've discovered the joy of the long run and my 2 twenty milers have been memorable high spots which I am so proud of. I want to do more of them in future just because I loved doing them.  I've learnt so much about myself and built up my confidence in my ability to take on a challenge, to get through the tough bits.

I will miss this marathon gladly if it means I can run along the beaches here all summer long and enjoy the warm sun (!), the colours, the sound of the waves. I will not run if I know I'm likely to harm myself, I run to celebrate health.

Finishing a marathon is just the icing on the cake, the public affirmation and the formal marker of something the world sees as significant. But inside, in me, I carry every mile, every step, every heartbeat with pride. I am changed forever and that's what I value.

I've read two very inspiring posts this week from runners I admire who have great wisdom and humility.  Their words have helped me a lot, echoing so closely what I also have found to be true.
Paul  and Tom. Thank you guys.

I'm also enjoying taper! I got time with Ali and time to help the cats learn about the great world outside.    Here's Dougal lording it over his new domain. Hamish was a bit too quick for me to capture, it's all bit scary for him.

Whatever you're up to, I hope you and yours are well and happy.  Good luck with all your endeavours.

Take care

Suex

On the hoof.....

Well, the mystery is finally solved. Almost a year to the day since my calf went ping I have an explanation for what happened, and cleared up a few other running mysteries besides.

Quick recap: I''d stopped running after a worrying niggle in my shin and sore feet. Something wasnae right. My physio Pam referred me to Donna the podiatrist who said I needed a biomechanical assessment. So I went off to see Pam at the Abbey Hill Footcare Clinic.  Pam got out her rulers and measuring things and put me through my paces. I love to see good diagnostic skills at work and Pam's are truly awesome. I was fascinated as she tested out different hypotheses about what was going on and held onto every word as a picture began to take shape - Sherlock Holmes had better watch out.

The punchline is I have  'forefoot equinnus' in both my feet and I've had it my entire life.  Those of you of a classical or scientific bent will immediately discern that I am a horse.  Well not quite, but  like a horse, my hoof is naturally in a toe-down position with my heel off the ground. It's something to do with having deformed metatarsals and it can't be corrected or aligned, it has to be accommodated. So when I run I take a lot of pressure on the fore foot which the foot can't absorb properly because it's an odd shape.  Having equinnus foot basically means I am permanently running up hill. Here's a drawing.

As one writer says 'it is like having a built-in doorstop pushing you backwards and jamming your knee backwards.' Equinnus can cause calf strain and achilles, hip and piriformis problems as the body adapts.  You would shudder to know at the amount of treatment I've had over many years to sort out hip and lower back pain - and it was probably all related to my feet.

I now know that this is why I prefer to walk round the house on tip toes - (I'm a toe walker apparently, it sounds quite exotic doesn't it?). I thought it was because we lived in houses with noisy floors and I was embarrassed to thump about. Now I know why hills are such a struggle, why I trip up and why I can't stand up for long periods - those youthful demos were hell. 

The great news is that it doesn't stop me running, I just have to learn to work with my horses feet and adapt accordingly.  

 Pam advised me to go back to cushioned (neutral) running shoes to reduce the impact that my odd foot shape has to absorb. No more barefoot running, no more minimalist shoes. No more cute little pumps with no foot support and back to shoes with a small heel.  I have to make sure that I have the laces done the right way to take the pressure off the arch (ignoring helpful sales assistants with great ideas).  I just need to factor in the hoof shape and reduce the impact on my feet as much as possible.

So I'm back on the Brooks and my most cushioned hilly socks with as much compression as I can decently get away with in public. I'm building up the runs gradually and so far so good, everything is calming down. Ten good miles so far this week and feeling fine, and secretly enjoying the lashing wind and rain. The sea has been amazing if somewhat destructive.

Equinnus foot is not rare, so if you have a very high instep and a history of unexplained injuries, it might be worth checking it out. I found Physio Blogger's website helpful. 

I can't believe I've got so far through my life without knowing this. What's interesting is  that it's the Chi Running that helped me solve the mystery.  Along with the minimalist shoes, Chi running meant that I ran naturally and so the right bits hurt.  Because I was paying attention, I got things sorted without causing too much damage on the way.  

So I'm back running on the beach and loving it. Looking forward to some good running in between the celebrations - if I can drag myself away from the boys! Here they are giving me a bit of help with the ironing

I hope you're all setting up for a lovely festive season full of all the things that make you and yours happy.  Take care and have a great time!

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

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