Planning Marathon Number 2!

It's been a busy few weeks as the tectonic plates of life take a wee shuggle and I've not done as many runs as I'd have liked. But I decided to use the running I could do to tackle a few barriers and that's proved really valuable in getting me back on track.

On a trip up North, I had a delightful early Sunday morning run in Inverness. After a bad night's sleep and a day in the car, I knew a run was just what I needed; plus a run is a great way to get the feel of a place.

Inverness is a delight to run in. I did the obvious and ran along the River Ness that cuts through the town.  There's paths down both sides and lots of bridges, so you can do a real mix of loops back and forth across the river. I don't get the chance to run over many bridges at home so I took full advantage and weaved from side to side as the whim took me.  I used the bounce on the bridge to help me run lightly, an aspect of form I've neglected recently.

A little way down towards the edge of the town, there's a wee island in the middle of the river that's just  like Narnia with lights stringing through the trees and a maze of little paths. Magic. I bet that's a cracking run any time of the year and I could have gone much further. I look forward to running Inverness again before too long.

My run was not stylish. My legs were heavy and I had  a a persistent pain in the butt from sitting down  that just wouldn't shift. I was tired, grumpy and lumpen. It was an ungainly run. But I was pleased that I didn't let the pain put me off. I analysed it, kept an eye on how it responded to running and I wasn't frightened of it. For me, losing the fear of pain is a key part of the recovery process.

Back home again, I did my first hills since the marathon. After the warning from the podiatrist I'm very wary about running hills, but the time felt right to start, with a hefty measure of respect. It went fine. I took it slow, focussed on my form and didn't over do to. Hills are back into the training schedule.

And the long runs are not far behind.  I've done my first five miler. I decided to make the most of a cancelled mid week run and save myself for a longer one at the weekend. I love my long run, it's my favourite run of all, it's what running is all about for me.  So it was with a big grin that I donned the gear on a beautiful sunny North Berwick Sunday morning (last weekend!) and hit the road. The aim was to do my 5 mile run, even if I ended up walking half of it.

It was great to get back onto the old route after so long. The field full of rapeseed oil has been harvested and re planted. The recent high tides have removed a lot of sand from the beach and collapsed the sand dunes. But it was a really low tide and the beach was ginormous. Only a few dog walkers were about at this time of day, the only company except for the footprints of the early bird runners. Just me and the sun and the seabirds. Bliss

I just trotted at whatever pace I felt like. Since the marathon, I don't look at pace when I'm running. It's weird I used to be so obsessed with how fast I ran. Now it's all about how long I can run for. I trust myself now that the speed will come in due time and it is.  That's been a big (and painful!) lesson for me to learn.

I'm now ready to start planning ahead and set myself some running goals.  It's taken me a long time to recover from the marathon, much longer than I thought it would. Whether it's age, anatomy or a mixture of the two, doesn't really matter, that's just how it is for me. So I've decided not to do a marathon next year. I want to be fully recovered physically before I start that training regime again, plus I want to put the lessons I learnt into practice without the pressure of a marathon. 

I fancy a couple of half marathons; I know I can manage the distance and I need to know if my debut time was a fluke! If that goes okay, I'll aim at 2015 for my second marathon, hopefully with a good year's running behind me.  I'd really like to do Lochaber again, I had such a wonderful time and they were superbly friendly. But who knows.

Whatever you've been up to I hope you've had a great time. Run strong, stay safe.

Take care

Suex

Runner Dundee

Time and tides conspired so I only had one run this week, but it was a bit different and rather special. This week's run was in Dundee, a fine city famous for jute, jam and journalism. I was away from home for work and there's always a bit of time for a quick run when you're away, and there's no better way to get to know a place than running it.  So I packed my trainers and sports bra and headed off.

I was up bright and early and so was the haar - the thick wet mist that comes in from the sea. It's the price us East Coasters pay for a period of sunny weather. But after winter marathon training, it felt cool and refreshing; Scotland's mists are always a bit magical.

I left the hotel at 6 with only the odd bus or two for company and headed for the silvery Tay.  Outside the hotel was a most dramatic and unusual sight - massive piles of rubble. Most of the buildings round the waterfront have been demolished and the great piles of brick and concrete fill the landscape, whilst half-built roads leap out through the mist disappearing en route to the river.  You rarely see sights like this in peace time, it was a bit like running in the set of I am Legend (or a Coronation Street tram crash!).

I've not been to Dundee for about a year and I barely recognised the waterfront (which I think is the whole idea) but  I quickly got to the Tay and the magnifident Discovery which graces the City. The ship is a symbol of the pride and vision people have for Dundee. Few are unmoved by these magnificent ships and the bravery of the folk who sailed them.

The Discovery is at one end of a delightful waterfront path that runs almost to the airport and is punctuated by art works of a marine nature.  It was very quiet save for a couple of friendly cyclists.  On one side of me the silvery Tay lapped at the sea wall. On the other, the ghostly shells of half built luxury flats rose through the mists. In a short time, this place would be a hive of activity. I idly wondered if Brad Pitt might be about looking for another Scottish film set.  Those flats will have fantastic viewa across the Tay when they're built and an easy run or cycle to the train station too.

I went as far as I could and then headed back into town.  I was just shy of my 3 miles so I did a a brief sight seeing tour round the shopping area. The magnificent buildings, the legacy of a rich and prosperous history, have survived and the new and the old blend well. It's pedestrianised which makes for good running (and good shopping!), clean and welcoming.

Of course Dundee is also home to that august publication much loved by us all - The Beano, so I wasn't surprised to come across Desperate Dan with chums in tow on my route.

A three mile, thirty minute run. A perfectly normal short run. I am recovered. I only stopped to take photos and finished fast and ready to run more. It felt good. And of course a morning run justifies a treat! Thanks @paintedrunner for the suggestion of Dundee Cake!

Dundee is a city in the middle of massive and bold change. A great deal of the old (and mostly very ugly) waterfront has been demolished and so at the moment it's not exactly pretty, but it is very exciting to think about what Dundee will be like in a few years.  Most folk I spoke to were happy to see the changes and were optimistic about what would come next.

And it's not just a Giuggenheim that Dundee has to look forward to. Look what I found right next to my hotel!  Surely getting a great running shop must be a pretty good indicator of well being and economic regeneration!

I hope to get back to the beach runs next week again. Cue wind and rain!

Wherever you are whatever you're up to, have a great week!

Take care

Suex

Running with Herons: Recovery Week 3

Recovery run week 3 and I'm starting to feel like a runner again. Last week really took me up a level and this week I felt like a different person when I donned my kit and headed out.

That first moment of hitting the beach is always breathtaking. Whether it's summer or winter, morning or evening, it's magical. I never get tired of that first sight of the Bass Rock on a run. I read some research that said people define 'home' in different ways. For some, home is when they get through their own front door. For others, it's when they arrive in their own country. For me, it's when I see the Bass Rock from any angle, by train, by car, by run. I love the Rock best when it's white, then I know it's covered in gannets and gannets always make me happy.

This week low tide's been very low and so the beach has been enormous: great rocky outcrops with oases of sand scattered between. It's something else to run on sand that a few hours ago was covered by sea; sand we only see when the tide's way, way out.


There's a lot of bird life when the tide's out, especially early morning and it's noisy out there. No need for the ipod on morning runs on the beach.  Both days I've arrived at the wee estuary at the same time as a flock of seagulls (cue 1980s flashback). What a racket!  As the gulls gathered, they rose to greet each other squawking and calling, before settling down to look out to sea and harass the oystercatchers.

There's loads of birds early morning on the beach; angry black headed gulls; startled oyster catchers,  curlews sounding like childhood. But this week I've been lucky enough to see the herons.

The first heron was on my run out. A large bird, invisible until the moment something tells you that's a heron over there. He was sitting on a rock looking like he was gazing out to sea. Not a muscle moved. I slowed down to try and not startle him. He was still sitting there when I came back.  I slowed down again as I went past and as I came round the corner, I saw a smaller adult (Mum?) and what I think was a young bird being taught to fish. They were off too quick for me to get a snap, the young bird ungainly in its rush to get to safety.

Herons have such a quality of stillness about them; even taking off these birds are so elegant, so unhurried (usually). Herons make you want to stand still and reflect on the world.  I always feel special when I've seen one. When I got home I had a Google and found out that in Native American mythology, herons are about independence, being open to change and following non traditional ways. They offer the gift of balance, allowing you to perform many tasks at the same time.  That sounds like most runners I know, we're pretty independent and not exactly run of the mill folk.

I know change is the only constant, but I'm in big change mode at the moment and running is a big part of it. As a woman of a certain age, I'm having physical and emotional changes to deal with and running helps.  I can't tell if I'm having a hot flush when I'm running - result! I've been having acupuncture, initially for the menopause symptoms, but  I'm also getting my post bursitis hip rehab sorted too. That's all about strengthening the ability of my hips to balance my left and right sides and my asymmetric body.  As Ming  uses her magic needles, my hip pain has all gone now and it's helped me identify a tightness in my psoas muscle.  I've now got myself a set of Yoga moves to stretch out my psoas and strengthen my hips and create more balance.  Running has become part of my hip recovery not a cause of injury. Of course acupuncture and Chi Running share similar values and philosophies.


I've done two runs this week, each with 4x5 minute runs with 1 minute walks in between.  My second run was over 3 miles - the first time in ages - and it felt good, I started to feel I might be able to run without stopping soon.  I was delighted to realise that I've been so focussed on how long I run, I haven't once looked at the pace on my Garmin. That felt like a real achievement!

Instead of a third run,  Ali and I did a ten mile walk on Saturday walking from Gullane to North Berwick. A beautiful day and it's so great to see our beaches being used. There were walkers, strollers, rowers, paddle boarders and cyclists with those fat tyres - and of course dog walkers and runners and sandcastle builders with the odd barbecue thrown in. Something for everyone.

We had a delightful lunch at the Direlton Gallery - great soup and sarnies and always an excellent cup of tea. What more could you ask?

Next week is 2x10 minutes with 1 minute rest.  After that I should be able to do 20 minutes without stopping. And after that I'm back to being a normal runner again - whatever that is!

Have a great week, take care and good running!

Suex

And then a miracle happened...

Recovery Week 2 is now complete. Hooray! Three runs done of 4 minute running and 1-2 minutes walking. It's been a great week for beach running - lovely weather, not too much wind and tide times fitting my schedule. It's been an incredible contrast with the freezing wind and rain of my training runs.

Of course I'm delighted to be running again, it's fabulous. But if I'm honest it's been a hard slog even though I've not run for more than 4 minutes at a time and only hit 2.5 miles today. Every run I've wondered how I ever managed to do 26.2 miles when I haven't even got to 2.6 miles yet, yes it's been tough. But of course runners know to trust the process and the wisdom of our bodies, so I just got on with doing the running bit and waited for the usual miracle to happen.

The miracle came this morning.  Saturday morning runs send a tingle down my spine. During marathon training Saturday was the day I did my long run - my favourite run of the week. On a Saturday I could run as long as I wanted, no time limits, no desk to get back to, just the trail ahead of me. It's like being a kid and being allowed to play out all day. So early this morning I left the house with a lovely warm

glow from previous Saturday mornings at the back of my sleepy head.

The beach was empty for almost the entire run. The beach was mine, all mine. Running along an empty beach is like you own the whole world for 30 glorious minutes.  I headed off as usual, checking my garmin for my 4 minute intervals, listening to the sound of the waves and the seabirds.

Because it was a Saturday I allowed myself an extra interval, plenty of time to rest as I can't run again for at least 3 days.  As I hit the big stretch of beach between North Berwick and Gullane, the empty beach rolled out ahead of me and my own footprints behind me.  Something clicked inside; my legs eased into running gear, my breathing slowed and I just relaxed. I felt like a runner again.

As I ran  I remembered how even at my fittest, I often found those first two miles bloody hard going.  I'd put the struggle down to my slow recovery, but I'd forgotten that I nearly always have to grit my teeth for the first couple of miles even at my 'peak'. My heart lifted, my stride lengthened. As I started my last 4 minute interval I checked my time on the garmin and for the first time in my recovery runs, looked at my pace. I had to smile at the return of my speed obsession but I was pleased that I hadn't even thought of speed until now.

So a great recovery week, more recovery of the heart and the spirit than the legs! Though of course technically, this is not about recovery - I'm not going back to how I was, I am going somewhere new, somewhere better.  But the discipline of recovery has been critical; it's made me slow down and this has given me time to learn and reflect. If I'd done my usual dash to get back to form, I'd have missed some important stuff. Sometimes in running you need to slow down and let the sound of the waves carry you.

Have a great week, run safe and run strong!

Take care

Suex

Back on Recovery Road....

Ah, the joys of running. There's nothing quite like that first recovery run to make you appreciate the simple pleasures of running.

Being off your feet for more or less 8 weeks feels like forever. That last run in June was not joyful, everything felt out of kilter. A niggling hip, that little voice inside that you really wish wasn't there, telling you that you need to pay attention or else. I know the signs and I know resistance is futile. I stopped running and just kept up the spinning and yoga. The problem persisted and it was clear I had a problem that wasn't about running.  It turned out to be hip bursitis and the trigger seems to have been incorrectly positioned pedals and too many madly serious spin classes.  I was trying to protect my knee...... what's for you won't go by you.

There then followed a couple of months trying to keep off my feet, avoiding stairs and generally taking it easy. It wasn't as awful as I'd expected because I knew that it was time to stop running and sit down and deal with a backlog of other stuff that had accumulated (more to come in future blogs).

But sitting down doesn't mean you can't improve your running and I didn't waste my time. Running strength relies on a strong healthy body, so I went to see a nutritional therapist who helped me clean up my diet and rationalise my increasingly random selection of supplements and vitamins. Over the years I'd accumulated a small pharmacy of stuff from glucosamine to fish oils.  An analysis of what I ate by health rating rather than calories showed I was eating a lot of dairy and not enough carbs. My liver was struggling without my gall bladder, even though I hardly ever drink alcohol.  Roisin suggested I cut out dairy for a while. Within 24 hours my allergies to cats, dust, hay fever, pollen and a shed load of other stuff, disappeared. Stopping dairy meant the end of a 15 year long daily anti histamine habit.

After 6 weeks or relative inactivity, it was time to get those legs moving again. A fab holiday in the North of Scotland in all its sunny glory signalled the time to start moving. We did some good quality long walks over cliffs, across beaches and along rivers. Walking gives you plenty of time to focus on form, so I took my Chi Walking book with me and worked on form as we walked along. Over that week, I felt my muscles strengthen bit by bit and my running head gradually returned.  The little niggles began to fade and life came back to my feet and legs. The time to run grew nigh.

It felt more like a re birth than a return to running when I set off for my first run in months - two miles run/walk along the beach early one morning when no one else was around (well if there was it was too misty to see them!).  I'm using the full recovery plan from Running Well, written by two great running gurus and a forward by my shero Dame Kelly Holmes. It starts with several weeks of run/walk, gradually building up the running time over 6 weeks, after that you build up the running time using the usual training rules.

Week 1 of recovery is done.  6 miles running, 6 miles walking. No spinning!  It's good to be back and it's good to be back slow knowing that every step is making me stronger and getting me back on track.

Take care

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