I had been thinking, recently, what life would be like without running in it. More specifically what I would be like, without running.
Training and participating literally encompasses huge chunks of time, socialising,and personal goals. And I love it all. Without this obsession, I would be a reasonable Mum (I hope):, a reasonable nurse: and probably a more sociable friend. Certainly the house would be alot tidier.
But, I am certain, without running - my idiosyncratic 'thing'- I would feel a bit less remarkable. All these activities, events, dreams,: it gives a twist, a different conversation, some interesting and exciting focal points for the time ahead. Remarkable indeed.
So, think about it. This begs the question: what do YOU do, that makes you feel that little bit more remarkable ? Everyone has something.
Friday, 30 March 2018
Thursday, 29 March 2018
Spring is in the air
Springtime is finally here guys, and the outdoors is calling....enjoy getting out and running free....
Tuesday, 6 March 2018
Good to be out...
So good to hit the trails after the bad weather and injury. Fresh air, mud, drizzle.. It's all good
Tuesday, 27 February 2018
Snowly does it
In a bid to defy the 'beast from the east', trail trainers combined with Drymax (TM) socks seemed to do the trick. Plus little steps, no rushing today on this run.
Monday, 26 February 2018
Spine race: what went wrong.... What went right
OK, this is the last time I am going to mention this race, for quite a while. Still a sore point, really.
I wanted to put specific points on here about what went wrong for me, but, well, the biggest thing was that I was injured just near the start of the second stage. Twisted ankle, heard the crack. If it had happened near the end of the race, I would have taken loads of pain killers and hobbled on : as it was, I had 200 miles to go : there was no way I could continue that distance while hobbling and negotiating routes and self management. So, in my eyes, it was unavoidable. I think, as well, it would have been unsafe to continue to the extreme terrain without being on top of my game : too much risk to myself and also any safety crew that might have to rescue an injured runner from strange cold places.
I would definitely... Er.. Go for a smaller sleeping bag! The bulk of my uber warm mountain bag just contributed to a huge bag to carry - it felt like my centre of gravity was waylaid, putting it dramatically. There was no chance I was going to get a time penalty for not carrying the correct kit...
Definitely more socks - everyone agreed that absolutely nothing is 100 % waterproof, and there is no avoiding cold wet hands and feet. Never enough spare supplies.
Other pieces of kit were working well until this injury. I enjoyed the food I'd bought, was happy with all the extra snacks. At least one front rucksack pocket is a must, to put snacks and batteries in. It would have been useful to have a holder for my gps as you just glance at it approximately 3 times a minute : I ended up carrying it as I was relying on it so much, there must be a holder on the market somewhere. I did not really use the maps much - gps felt easier.
We did have a whole session of feeling physically unsafe for about an hour or so. We were at the top of a ridge in 45 miles /hour winds, and literally being blown over. It was at that stage that a fellow runner decided to pull out. I was going to pull out too, but decided to continue to the second stage - obviously my bravado didn't pay off. We all felt that we were on the brink of being too unsafe for common sense to allow us to continue - why were we taking risks for a hobby, when we all had children and jobs to manage. There is no justification for partaking in an ultra race,at any time: but an event where we felt this way, even temporarily, is harder to square with everyday life.
I think, rightly or wrongly, that the race does not start properly until the second stage. The first stage felt populated with supporters and crew offering encouraging words and hot drinks: not so, further up the course. During the second stage, I realised how much you really are on your own : I did not see anyone apart from a couple more competitors, for the seven and a half hours I was out there - there really is no hand holding in this event, as the organisers say.
So, that is enough now about this huge, huge, race.
Time to move on.
But... Maybe... Just maybe.....
I wanted to put specific points on here about what went wrong for me, but, well, the biggest thing was that I was injured just near the start of the second stage. Twisted ankle, heard the crack. If it had happened near the end of the race, I would have taken loads of pain killers and hobbled on : as it was, I had 200 miles to go : there was no way I could continue that distance while hobbling and negotiating routes and self management. So, in my eyes, it was unavoidable. I think, as well, it would have been unsafe to continue to the extreme terrain without being on top of my game : too much risk to myself and also any safety crew that might have to rescue an injured runner from strange cold places.
I would definitely... Er.. Go for a smaller sleeping bag! The bulk of my uber warm mountain bag just contributed to a huge bag to carry - it felt like my centre of gravity was waylaid, putting it dramatically. There was no chance I was going to get a time penalty for not carrying the correct kit...
Definitely more socks - everyone agreed that absolutely nothing is 100 % waterproof, and there is no avoiding cold wet hands and feet. Never enough spare supplies.
Other pieces of kit were working well until this injury. I enjoyed the food I'd bought, was happy with all the extra snacks. At least one front rucksack pocket is a must, to put snacks and batteries in. It would have been useful to have a holder for my gps as you just glance at it approximately 3 times a minute : I ended up carrying it as I was relying on it so much, there must be a holder on the market somewhere. I did not really use the maps much - gps felt easier.
We did have a whole session of feeling physically unsafe for about an hour or so. We were at the top of a ridge in 45 miles /hour winds, and literally being blown over. It was at that stage that a fellow runner decided to pull out. I was going to pull out too, but decided to continue to the second stage - obviously my bravado didn't pay off. We all felt that we were on the brink of being too unsafe for common sense to allow us to continue - why were we taking risks for a hobby, when we all had children and jobs to manage. There is no justification for partaking in an ultra race,at any time: but an event where we felt this way, even temporarily, is harder to square with everyday life.
I think, rightly or wrongly, that the race does not start properly until the second stage. The first stage felt populated with supporters and crew offering encouraging words and hot drinks: not so, further up the course. During the second stage, I realised how much you really are on your own : I did not see anyone apart from a couple more competitors, for the seven and a half hours I was out there - there really is no hand holding in this event, as the organisers say.
So, that is enough now about this huge, huge, race.
Time to move on.
But... Maybe... Just maybe.....
Wednesday, 7 February 2018
Monday, 29 January 2018
2 weeks post injury
Well, 2 weeks post injury and, luckily for me, I can still wobble along the treadmill and pavements. With extra strapping and painkillers. A very slow, odd-looking, you - hope - you - won't - bump-into - anyone - you-know kind of wobble. A degreeably less painful wobble than last week.
Lots of stretching, exercises from the physio, weird yoga poses. I appreciate that injury is part of sport, and am so grateful that I will still be able to continue in the sport I love. The official advice is just don't run, at least for another 2 or 3 weeks : I just do not have it in me to not run, not yet. So, wobble I will. Not quite the trails / off road, yet : hopefully soon. Darn these dodgy ankle injuries. Wobbling continue.
Lots of stretching, exercises from the physio, weird yoga poses. I appreciate that injury is part of sport, and am so grateful that I will still be able to continue in the sport I love. The official advice is just don't run, at least for another 2 or 3 weeks : I just do not have it in me to not run, not yet. So, wobble I will. Not quite the trails / off road, yet : hopefully soon. Darn these dodgy ankle injuries. Wobbling continue.
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