Life after a marathon: even my recovery time is slow!

It's over a month since Lochaber and by now I'd planned to be well into the next challenge of being a Speed Queen again, training for Race for Life in June and on my way to a new 10k PB. But as ever, things haven't worked out quite as I'd expected and I've realised that marathon recovery can have a bit of a tail....

Things started off well immediately after the marathon. I had one day of being very stiff, a few days of minor aches and pains in places that don't usually hurt and then everything felt normal.  But I didn't rush back to running. For the first couple of weeks, I ran very little and focussed on mixing the activity up to get my body re-balanced. I wanted to re establish my original core fitness that stood me in great stead when I started running a few years ago.

On my first post marathon run, I felt stiff and heavy legged and it was hard work. The second run felt  more fluid, strong; I was coming back and it felt good.  Good, until the next day when my knee and my foot hurt. It was weird, neither cause any problem when I run, and I had no problem during or after the marathon. In fact they'd been fine since February when I was half way through marathon training and got my insoles.  But then I twigged; I'd done the second run au naturelle without the insoles (though still in my Brooks).  My post marathon plan had been to build up my natural unaided running as part of general base training.  This turned out to be a bad move. Those 5 miles, great though they were at the time, set me back. Lesson learnt.

So I went back to spinning, yoga and pilates and didn't run for almost a whole week. The next Thursday morning dawned beautifully sunny so it was time to get out to the beach and just see how things were panning out. This time I wore all the foot stuff, I wasn't taking any chances. Five super sunny miles, without a niggle and I even did a spot of fartlek for fun.  I felt great. Phew, back to normal. Until the next day when, yes the knee and foot started niggling.

However, things weren't as bad as before at all and quickly settled down, so I decided to cut running down to once a week, keep a spin class or two and a Pilates or yoga session. I also decided to focus more on strengthening my feet and knees. So this week I've started every morning with some feet and knee exercises and after work on Friday we  had a lovely barefoot walk on the beach. It's just impact that my tootsie's struggle with and I even managed the first (deliberate!) paddle of the year. Pretty warm it was too.

Yesterday, I did Zumba (my first for months and what fun!) and a short interval session on the treadmill. For today's treat, Ali and I got the bus to Gullane and walked the 6 and a bit miles back.  Not much of a view, but the beach was really atmospheric. Someone has fixed the coastal walk so you can get almost all the way to Gullane by land even if the tide's in. There's a lovely bit of new woodland path that I am looking forward to running soon.

So, full recovery is taking a while,  but there's no rush, I've got plenty of time. I'm just doing what feels right and going with that and not my head telling me I need to get on and achieve things.  There are some things that might never 'recover'. My feet are bigger now. Before I was a size 5, now I run in size 7s. My abnormally high arches are a little less high than they were! Will they spring back? Who knows! The other big change is how good it feels to have accomplished something despite all the struggles and obstacles. I know it's not like Everest, and I know loads of folk can run miles and miles further in much less time and then do it again the next day.  Running is about what you can do, not what other folk can do and Lochaber was my achievement; no one can ever take that away from me. Never. Ever. And that feels good.

Oh, and something else that felt good this week, I got a piece about the Lochaber Marathon in The Scottish Running Guide. Which is great cos that's where I found out about it in the first place!

Hope you've had a good week and got some quality healthy you time in too. It's so hard to make time with all the things we need to do, but we are definitely worth it!

Take care

Suex

I've run a marathon - what next???

I had one of my most favourite (and shortest!) runs ever this week.  Monday morning I just ran for the fun of it on the beach; without insoles, without gels and no thought about fuel or glycogen. I just got up, got dressed and ran. That's the first time I've done a run purely for the fun of it for months and it felt great!

I'm sure no matter how many half and full marathons I run and how fast or slow I do them, nothing will feel like the first one. I've really enjoyed the exclusive focus on running and what I've learnt from pushing myself and aiming for something that wasn't easy. And I hope very much that I'll run another marathon if I'm spared and well; but not for a wee while. For now I want to spend a bit of time doing all the things I've not had time to do and get a bit of balance back into my life and muscle - I like balance.

There's been a few things about the whole marathon thing that have driven me batty.

- Not being able to do much exercise with Ali because I had to run all the time
- Having to run to a timetable not when I want to - especially when it 's a lovely day but I can't do a run on the beach because I'm resting (AARRGGHH!!!!).
- Having to focus only on distance and forget about hills and speed, especially speed, it is my weakness
- Not being able to do spinning and running because my knee began to grumble if I did too much

The biggest thing is the time that marathon preparation takes up -- especially when it's your first one and you can't even think about cutting corners (expect the crisis type cuts!). The juggling, the wheeling and dealing to get those runs in.  Without the long runs I have so much time.  Ali and I can do lunch and get a walk on the beach.  Yesterday we cycled to Haddington and back for lunch with a dear friend.  My legs really enjoyed the change, especially my knees.

And there's the energy! That first weekend without a long run, I was up early and completely bottomed the kitchen. I was up ladders, on top of cupboards, into every nook and cranny. Our kitchen has never been so clean and the spiders have had to make do with a move to the garage.  Since the long runs stopped, the garden has been weeded and I've done swimming and aqua aerobics, the cats are all played out and I've done all sorts of stuff I've not done for months.

Finally, there's the mental space that marathon prep takes up. I still wake up at 5am planning my running schedule for the week. I'm still checking tide times and wind direction several times a day and looking to see whether I can fit a run into my work schedule. But it's a but less obsessive now and I have a bit more brain capacity for stuff that isn't running.

But of course running's not far from my thoughts. There's another reason I want time to do other things. I never captured the level of fitness I had when I ran my first half marathon, I spent most of the training sorting out my deformed feet. Plus in my training, I got loads of things wrong and many's the time I thought 'next time I'll remember to do X or Y'.  It's in my blood to learn from my mistakes (just as well given how many I make) and I never waste a learning experience (especially if it hurts) so I've decided to spend the rest of the year getting myself into good basic shape to start training for a marathon next year (I want to do Lochaber again, I loved it). I know now what bits of me I need to work on.

I've set my fitness goals for the rest of the year as:

• Taking my Chi Running deeper, which includes the Nick's Chi Running weekend in the autumn which I'm really excited about (dead chuffed to feature in Nick's roll of honour this month too!)
• Building up my basic fitness, core strength and resilience, especially the bits that struggled most with the training. A mix of Pilates and Yoga and circuit/strength work to build key muscles and strengthen joints.  And I'll get back to spin with a vengeance.
• Getting my 10k back under 55 mins and maybe even a new pb.  That should keep my inner speed queen happy!
• Reintroducing hill work. I was much slower and running felt harder without the hillwork. Like speed, it got binned so I could build up distance. I'm going to very carefully start building in some hills and get those calves back to peak condition.

The aim is to get faster, fitter and stronger by the end of the year and to re discover and develop other aspects of my running, the bits I've neglected so I could run long. I want to start marathon training next time from a stronger base using my experience of what it's all about and how my body responds.  I'll keep doing my long slow runs now and then, mainly because I really enjoy them. I just like heading off and running up the coast and back on a nice day, simples.

So, that's it. Time to get off the laurels and back onto the training schedule. Apart from my mini run, I've done a cycle ride, pilates and yoga and a couple of Gillian Reynolds shred sessions. Everything seems to be in working order, so I'm ready to go.

Lots more full and half marathons this week and some great achievements.  Whatever you're up to, be great!

Take care

Suex

You'll Never Run Alone: A thank you to those who stand and wave

The world seems a very different place since the Boston Marathon last Monday.  With the London Marathon a few hours away, there has never been a stronger sense of us runners being a global community, united not just in our love of all things running but also in our determination not to give in.

Of course we are shocked. Less than a week ago, running was in a different world from bad things. Marathons are all about being human, reaching for our dreams, a manifestation of all that is best and true of humanity - even if that isn't always pretty.  Somehow it was even more shocking because something so good and innocent was targeted by people who hate. Shocking because it happened to ordinary runners, people like me and you and millions of others all over the world dreaming of their first or their perfect marathon.  It just didn't make any sense. Why on earth would you target runners? Why?

As events unfolded, it became clear this wasn't just about runners.  Friends and family, strangers and colleagues who cheered and waved as runners reached their marathon's end were killed and mutilated.  A young boy watching his father. A restaurant manager who stood at the finishing line almost every year.  A young graduate student from China. That this horrible frightening thing had happened to the people who stand and cheer us on seemed even more unfair and grotesque.

Shock became anger. It's bad enough to do this to runners, we who have chosen to do this mad thing, but to hurt our supporters, our posse, innocent bystanders; the strangers who smile and wave and cheer us on? It just didn't compute. It seems doubly unfair.

 I thought back to Lochaber and the wonderful support of the folk who waved and smiled me over the long hard slog. The folk waiting for me at the finish line more than 5 hours later and who gave me a massive hug looking almost as pleased as I did! The marshals who made me laugh out loud and kept me safe and hydrated; the people waving from their doorsteps and windows who gave me a thumbs up or a word or two of encouragement. The group of folk who cheered as I ran towards them, making me look round before I realised they were cheering me! I felt like Mo Farah! The scouts who handed out lucozade and the lovely little girl in pink who waved from the bus stop and offered me a drink.  None of them different to the supporters in Boston.

I thought about all the support I'd got from Ali. Not just him popping up here and there to cheer me on and hand me a hot cuppa at the end. Ali who spent over 5 hours wondering if I was going to make it round or not and never let on how worried he was. Who never complained about my dark o'clock rises to run before work or commented when I walked down the stairs like I was 125 years old groaning and wincing on ever step.  The weekends eaten up by long runs followed by hours of stretching and rolling round on lumps of foam and tennis balls.  The tyranny of the training schedule which determined when we could walk or cycle and when I had to rest and eat. The timetabling of holidays round the marathon schedule.  The incessant worrying about aches, pains and pace. I'm sure there must be many times our loved ones would dearly like to tell us to sit down and have a rest, but bite their tongues.

None of us run a marathon on our own and the bombers have hurt badly the people who give so much purely to see their loved ones pursue a dream or to encourage a stranger.

The London Marathon is going to be an even more special run than usual. It is the first major marathon since Boston and it will point to the future of running across the world. Every runner out on Sunday is making a statement on behalf of every one of us who have donned trainers and hit the streets. Every person helping, supporting, waving is also making a stand against bullying and terror on behalf of us all. Everyone at the London Marathon carries with them the admiration and hopes of runners and those who support us across the world.

So yes, we are runners, we are strong and we will run on. But we are also the ones who stand and wave.  On Sunday, we will all be strong and we will be united.  Together we will honour the marathoners and their supporters from Boston, London and every other race.

Very special thoughts to Celina, Kaz, Denis, Michelle and Zoe who are running on Sunday. Remember your posse - real and virtual - are right there behind you waving you on.  Know you are strong and have a totally brilliant day!

Whether you're running or waving, have a great marathon.

Take care

Suex

Lochaber Marathon: Race Report

I can't tell you how much pleasure it was to type those 4 words. Four little words, 4 long months. 26.2 miles. I can't take the grin off my face either!

Yesterday I ran the Lochaber Marathon in 5h 14m (my Garmin said 5.11).  It was my first marathon. It was a marathon I really didn't think I'd start never mind finish.

The Lochaber Marathon is a must do marathon and a great place to do your first or any marathon.  I picked it because it's small, it's run by and for runners and it's in one of the most beautiful bits of the world.  It's also one of the oldest marathons, 2014 was its 30th year.

From the moment I registered, I knew this was the right place for me. I was nervous and sore from a long car journey and could barely walk. The prognosis was not good for running, but I was hoping for a miracle. As I registered, I felt so emotional I could have burst into tears. Would I make it to the starting line? Would I run 1 mile or 10?  But I got such a warm welcome, such a lovely smile and reassuring words from the folk on the desk that I relaxed. Whatever happened on Sunday, it was going to be okay. These lovely people would understand. All I had to do was get to the starting line.

The next day we did some gentle sight seeing, sampled local delicacies and did some gentle walking on the sands of Morar. No wonder they film so many films round this beautiful place.

On the road back, we saw the signs out for the race. I held my breath. Less than 24 hours time I might be here. The scenery was simply stunning, the road lovely and flat but it was a scarily long way. Lochaber is an out and back race and as we saw the sign for the turning point, I realised just how far I'd have to run. It silenced and humbled me.

The night before the big day, we had a seriously delicious carb loading at the Ben Nevis Inn with a view of the mighty mountain and a well deserved top rating on TripAdvisor (so good we went again to celebrate!). Then back to our room where I got my kit all paid out and ready then spent the rest of the evening trying to get my back into a runnable state. I'd forgotten my tennis ball, so instead improvised with... a turnip! A bit hard but needs must. Luckily I did remember my roller and trusty hot water bottle.

Sunday morning was wet. And cold. And windy. Here's the view from our  lovely B&B, Myrtle Bank. Not the best way to start marathon day with lashing rain and howling winds.

Given I was probably only running for a few miles I did wonder if I should just save us all a load of bother and turn back now. Wasn't I being a bit pig headed? But I'd come this far, and it would have been a real failure to have been put off by a  bit of bad weather on the big day. Especially as it was nothing like as bad as some of the weather I ran in when training.  I knew that at very least I had to start the marathon. It really didn't matter what came next. If I didn't start I'd never know what I could have achieved, and I might have wasted my one chance. Every single journey has to start with that first step.

So all porridged and vaselined up, we headed off in the pouring rain. I can't tell you how nervous I was. My mouth was dry. My tummy in knots. I was strangely quiet and introspective.  It stayed wet as the twa pipers piped us up to the start line on the shinty pitch. I went right to the back. I wanted to be out of the way, to run my race my way. Plenty of time to speed up over 26.2 miles.

We started off running through houses, along the canal and then onto the road to Mallaig - the Road to the Isles.  There were loads of lovely Marshals keeping us safe and cheering us on. It must be the friendliest race around, it was like chatting to people I meet on my runs on the beach (I did succumb to saying hello to a dog right at the end too!).  Even better, Ali was waiting for me at 4 miles to check I was okay. I was sore but not stopped in my tracks, which was progress on last Sunday when I'd had to stop at 4 miles and hobble home.

As we ran out of Fort William the views just got amazing and the sun came out. For the first time in months I was running in warm sunshine and having to think about hydration, but there were plenty of stops. I stayed at the back and got to know the small group of back runners. We were spread out which I really liked. It was like doing a normal long run, I felt no pressure to worry about anyone else or speed up or slow down. I was free to run my race, my way and enjoy the scenery and the people who came out of their houses to wave us on. I popped Danny Dreyer's Chi Running onto the ipod.

As the miles gradually racked up, I realised that pain came and went but it wasn't getting any worse.  Before I'd left I'd had a really good sorting out from Pam and Lizelle at Physio Plus so I knew that I would hurt but I also knew what was behind the pain and that this was pain that could be endured without doing me harm.

So the pain was manageable and nothing else was hurting, so I began to wonder if I could make 10 miles. At about 8 miles, the sun was shining, the loch sparkled and the air was fresh and clear. I felt I could run (slowly) forever. I knew then that I would get round even if I had to crawl. Nothing was going to stop me now, nothing. I was committed.  It was a good feeling.

For the first time since my hip seized up 3 weeks ago I began to think I might just run this marathon and it was exciting.

Now I had hope and dogged Yorkshire grit persistance, I had a strategy - to get to the end come hell or high water. I focussed on doing whatever I had to do to manage the pain and stop anything seizing up. Suddenly it didn't matter how long I took, or if I walked, hopped or jumped to the end. I was running the race I was in. Not the race I imagined, not the race I hoped for, but the race that was in the here and now. I started to really enjoy myself and go with the flow -  the pain and stretching were just matters to be dealt with. I thought about my sessions with Nick on Chi running and my Chi running chums on Facebook.

I know you read all that stuff and nod sagely, but this was serious road to Fort William enlightenment. Run the race you're in. Of course dumbo!!

As we headed past the end of the loch, past the loos and more merry Marshals, the rain began. Just light enough to be refreshing at first, a few miles later it was soaking and gusty. I quite liked the rain, I'd trained in rain, sleet and howling gales so it felt totally normal.

At the half way turning point I got a real buzz. I have a thing about getting to half way and heading home, it gives me a big psychological boost on my runs, so Lochaber suited me nicely.  I hit half way 1/2 hour quicker than my training long runs so I felt pretty positive, I know I can run 20 - maybe I could do it in 5 1/2 hours.....

A mile later everything went strange and I began to worry that I wouldn't finish. I have no idea where it came from, but about that time I experienced my own mental wall (my legs were ok).  That's when I started run/walking and when I started to wonder what was happening in my body. Had I fuelled enough, had I drunk enough? Things I never worry about when I run normally. I ate a jelly baby or two and told myself I never had to eat them again after today. I thought about my Dad. The reason I started running. Whose Parkinson's meant he was robbed of the choice of movement. Who'd be so proud of me and who would move heaven and earth to get me through.

Gradually as the next mile marker came into view and I realised I was still running (and still in 1 piece!) I got a grip. The skies began to clear and I was stretching every mile now, but every mile was a victory,  every mile was a mile I hadn't thought I could run. Every mile was nearer that finishing tape.  As I hit 20 miles I knew I was entering the unknown. At just after 21 miles, my calves started doing very strange things. It felt like a sort of popping cramp type feeling. I flashed back to my calf injury of last year and slowed right down and basically walked and ran to the end. It was frustrating, I had energy left in my legs and I had trained to speed up at the end, so a slow finish just felt wrong.  Somehow I managed to run over the finishing line 5 hours and 14 minutes after I left it.

I got a lovely hug from the woman who gave me my rather lovely medal and then from Ali along with the best cup of tea I"ve ever had. One marathon finished, against all odds.

I never thought I'd finish that marathon. For most of the last few weeks I couldn't really see much point in even starting it, but I knew that I had to at least try.  My life never goes to plan, and once I accepted that this marathon wasn't going to plan either I realised I had a choice. I could wait until everything went smoothly, or I could just make the best of what I had in front of me. I am so glad I didn't miss my chance because things weren't as I wanted them to be.

I could have done none of this without Ali who gave me support and space in just the right amount and who believed in me. Thank you Ali.

Pam and Lizelle and everyone at Physio Plus have been amazing at patching me up and keeping me going. I really thought I'd no chance until Friday morning when Pam said I'd nothing to lose by just trying. How right she was. Thank you!

And I couldn't have picked a better place to make my debut. It was the friendliest, best organised event I have attended, set in the most stunning scenery. It was small - 363 folk went over the starting line and I came 353rd.  I liked the small scale, we were real people not numbers. It was running as I love to run - doing my own thing, running along through beautiful scenery, at my own pace, not running with elbows and MAMILs shoving me out of the way.  I could wear my iPod and sing along as I ran.  It was just like doing a really long run in a beautiful place, the lovely Loch and the magnificent Ben Nevis. And I got a medal, a wee bottle of whisky and food. What more can a girl want?

So it is done. My life will never be the same again. I've started thinking about what next. I quite fancy working on my 10k time for Race for Life and I want to do some walking and cycling with Ali. I haven't ruled out another marathon, but for now I'm just savouring the delicious delight of being a marathoner. I like the sound of that.

Good luck to everyone running London next week and Manchester's coming up soon. If you can possibly get to the starting line, do it. You never know what might happen. If your race turns out different to what you'd hoped, don't despair. Run the race you get, not the one you would have liked. That way you might just find you get further than you ever thought possible.

Mileage this week? 26.2. YES!!!!

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

Taper time: Treats and trembles

Well, this post should have started off with a sigh of relief that I'd finished the long runs; that the 5 o'clock rises to squeeze a run in before work were done for now. It doesn't. It starts with an "ouch!" and the sound of fingers and toes crossing firmly with the clear intention to summon a bit of luck that I will in fact make it to the starting line in Fort William in less than three weeks.

I'm not sure what happened. I'd felt a bit niggled after last Saturday's long run; sort of out of kilter. There was nothing I could put my finger on, but a swim and yoga session got me back to normal and nothing hurt so I just put it down to being disgruntled and tired and ready to taper.

So I headed off quite chipper for my middle distance run on Wednesday lunchtime. Despite the awful weather we've had, the sun was shining and the sky was blue. Okay it was a bit blowy and a bit nippy, but you don't run on Scottish East Coast beaches without getting used to that! I'd dressed warm with my polar leggings (not worn for several years, it's not been cold enough); gloves and even Ali's neck warmer. It felt great and I felt good and started to think I might go for 10 miles given how lovely it all was.

I trotted along and a very large friendly (and rather tubby) dog came up to say 'hello'. Nothing untoward and he was certainly better behaved than many of the dogs you meet on the beach. I stopped and greeted the beast but he jumped up on me and his weight shoved me over on my ankle. Not a big dunt, it wasn't even sore and of course I've done the twisted ankle thing before and then run 20 miles, so I didn't worry unduly and just headed off again.

Gradually I noticed a sort of stiff pain in my outer left thigh. I've got quite used to pain over the last few months and I've learnt just to relax and wait for  it to move around as my body accommodates and adapts.  But this was different and it didn't budge, I seized up more and more.  By mile 5, I couldn't keep going, my leg just wouldn't move like it needed to. It wasn't horrendously sore, my leg just wouldn't work; some bit of me was not happy and wasn't going to play anymore. I stopped running, turned round and started walking home - I didn't want to risk an injury so close to the big day.

Walking is really slow, it takes sooo long to get anywhere, but at least I was warmly dressed and the sun was shining. The pain eased quickly over the next day or so, and luckily I'd got a general maintenance check with the physio scheduled and got the all clear. I had a massage and it all looked okay for the last long Saturday run.

Saturday came. It was baltic, absolutely baltic with snow forecast for the second half of my run. Out came the winter gear. In went the porridge. A gentle warm up of the body and mind and then off I went into the breach. It was cold and windy but how exhilarating! I started off very slowly, thinking just how good I was going to feel at the end - thanks to my Twitter chums cheering me on. After about 5 minutes I  had a sharp pain down the thigh muscle and everything seized up again. It was worse this time, much more painful and it came on quicker than Wednesday. I did momentarily think about running on but that would have been madness. I knew I had to abort my mission - this was not the time to experiment running through a new and rather ominous pain. I might be able to do that in the marathon, but now I needed to listen to my body and head home.

I got great support from physio and runner Tom Goom (@tomgoom) who helped me get a handle on what was going on; reminded me that I'd done most of my training and I had a chance if I focussed on healing. There's lots of very good advice on his website too. After two twenty mile runs I do feel confident I have it in me to do the full 26.2, but not with a gammy leg! I surrendered to taper and accepted my lot.


To mark the end of long runs and the start of taper, I celebrated with afternoon tea at Greywalls in Gullane. It didn't matter too much that I'd not managed the 20 that morning.  It wasn't just a reward for that one run, it was a reward for everything; every early morning, every treadmill torment, every niggle and every lesson learnt over the last 3 months. And I have to tell you it tasted every bit as good as it looks! Carb loading can indeed be fun and not too onerous!

I'm now focussed on healing with my trusty compression tights on and my fingers crossed ready for my physio appointment tomorrow evening.  I must admit I'm tired, despite (or maybe because of) not running much this week. It isn't just the muscles that get all fired up and busy when you're training - it's mental and adrenalin fuelled too; it's odd not to have my mental calculator going non stop to work out how to squeeze the runs in!

So I'm in taper. Physically it started last week, mentally it started yesterday. It's not quite how I'd planned it, but none of the training has gone to plan, and that's part of the learning.  As I sit here I've suddenly started to notice streaked windows and dusty corners. Spring is coming and I feel the urge to clean. I add a taper to-do list to my to do list!

So fingers crossed til tomorrow night when I hope to get a verdict. Will I run Lochaber or will I yet again watch a marathon?

Whatever you're up to in your training, good luck and watch out for big friendly dogs!

Take care

Suex