On getting a bit emotional and encouraging steps

 

Thanks for all your support

I have taken up a new exercise of late which consists of repeatedly banging my head against a wall.
I find this is actually less painful than having to listen to Orange tell me yet again that my broadband won't working until some point in the third millenium.
As a result blog posts are even more erratic than normal but I can report some great news as I weighed in this week at 14st 6lbs, which is well on my way through the 14s. Seems like the disruption of the move wasn't so bad after all, must have been all that humping, as it were...

Anyway, also been getting back into my training this week and now looking forward to the Bath Half a week on Sunday.

Even got a little emotional while plodding the other night. I was just thinking about all the people who have been so amazingly supportive over the past months and if even half of those who said they'll be there on the day will be able to make, I think I'll be quite humbled.
I was just running all this through my mind and started to feel a little, almost, weepy, or something. Must be the age and the stresses on my body during the running. But it is overwhelming the amount of support that has carried me this far - if only they could be there to literally carry me on the day, arf.

Last night's run was very encouraging as it was pretty hard work to start with, very ploddy as it was the third run in three days, as per the schedule (building up to half marathon).
I was due to do 90 mins, so I headed out on a route which used to take me about that long, and in fact at the start of my training I did it in one hour and 36 mins. It's the well worn route down the Portway and up Bridge Valley Road. But I was very pleased to get to the finish to see that I had done it in 1 hr and 12 mins, almost half an hour off! I hoped I would be quicker but had no idea I was running that much faster. It makes sense of course because I'm carrying about four stone less than I was when I ran it before.
What was most encouraging is that I managed to do it at a decent pace, it's about 10k, but I wasn't trying too hard. It was a case of head down and get it done on a cold February night on my tod, so who knows what I will be able to achieve with the adrenalin pumping and tens of thousands of others people around me.
I'm really looking forward to it now.

Start again on Monday

I'm writing this week off in terms of training.

Moving flat has been such a drain on time and energy that I've really not had any time to devote to my training, which is disappointing, but a fact of life I guess.
I know it's only a flat I live in, but it seems when you share it with somebody else the amount of stuff multiplies by about three times, and then having to get the old place cleaned at the same time, and living in chaos in the new place because we've had no time yet to unpack is all rather trying.
In fact the only place that feels normal is sitting at my desk at work.

I did get out for about 40 mins on Wednesday, which included a couple of hills, and I have been pretty active most of the week, so at least I haven't just been sitting eating pizza in bed all week.
The Plan says I should be doing a half marathon this weekend, which isn't happening but I do have the Bath Half Marathon to look forward to in two weeks, so really I could consider this week as part of my 'tapering' as they call it, giving my muscles a rest before a big run. But actually a half marathon is less than the longest training run that I've done, which is bonkers to think about considering less than a year ago I couldn't get round a 10k course without stopping to walk every few minutes.

So anyway, I'm going to try to get out for a decent slog on Sunday, but once I've dug out The Plan from whichever box it's in, I shall pick up again in earnest on Monday. Feels like the end is getting close now, I mean in terms of the run, not the world. But who knows?

The Moving Diet

Just getting over four days of eating rough.

Moving house has meant everything is in chaos and having no access to cooker, been living on take outs inbetween shifting boxes and furniture - with the exception of a most welcome home-cooked shepherds pie at Amy's parents' home on Friday.
Been lots of van driving, Ikea furniture building and humping boxes up and down stairs as well as the endless cleaning!

Part of me thought that the move might be quite good for losing weight with all that activity, but in truth the trip to Domino's on Sunday and the Sheesh Mahal last night, probably undid any good work.
And I haven't even seen my running shoes since Thursday, so I'm actually looking forward to getting back into it tonight.

Still, it's not like you're moving every week is it? Although it feels like it a bit at the moment!

Peevers hits the headlines

 Fame at last, my fundraising story in the Evening Post:

http://www.redlandpeople.co.uk/news/Marathon-run-years-heart-surgery-losing-stone/article-1830202-detail/article.html

I'd like to thank...you all!

 Pic caption: Gratitude, I am full of it at the moment. (That really isn't meant as sarcastically as it reads)

I just want to say thank you to everybody who has responded so magnificently to my online appeal to raise sponsorship for the London Marathon run which I'd doing in aid of the British Heart Foundation.
In just ten days I have raised about £500 which has boosted the grand total to just over £1,200, which is much nearer the target of £3,000 than I was last month.
I'm very lucky to know so many wonderful and generous people and without sounding like an over-emotional luvvy on Oscar night, I'm really touched.
It's a cliche but it really does make it all worth it, because without the work of the BHF and the fantastic NHS nurses, doctors and surgeons that are the envy of the rest of the world, there's a good chance I wouldn't have got this far in life at all. I was born with a hole in my heart to begin with, and that was sewn up fairly quickly while I was a baby with the only reminder being a fading scar on my chest.
That was replaced with the fat new scar that was left by the heart valve replacement surgery I had in 2007. That serves as a reminder every day to me of how important it is to get my ass out there and keep training to run this marathon and raise the vital funds that will hopefully help the BHF and in turn the NHS to research heart disease, which is still the UK's biggest killer.
It may be a bit cold or rainy for me, but if had been born in another country, without the privilege of free health care, would I even be here today? That's enough to keep me going, and hopefully may nudge anybody who is considering sponsoring me to click on the link and make that donation today.
But thanks again to all the support so far, it really means a lot.

Blimey! Think I've turned into a bit of a big girls' blouse, better start talking split times, interval training and chaff wounds again while chomping on flax seed and bananas:-)

The psychological battle

I think I'm entering what proper sports people call the hard yards in terms of training.
After my 14.3 mile mega training three hour run last weekend I knew I had to give myself a few days to get over it.
But something weird started to happen during the week. As the days past I started to feel like I couldn't go out running again ever. I felt like if I tried to hit the pavements, new Asics or not, I wouldn't have the strength in my legs to keep going because all my energy had been drained from the Sunday run.
Then I started to feel massive doubts about my ability to run the marathon in a couple of months, despite how well the training is going and how far ahead of schedule I am. My terrible maths calculated that at my current pace it would take about 8 hours probably to complete and frankly there's no way I could keep going for 8 hours at anything, let alone running.
It was awful, all of a sudden everything seemed to be impossible. Then I started to blame myself for not taking training more seriously earlier last year and laying down a better foundation to build on.
It got to the point that on Thursday, which is when I did my next run, I wondered if I'd even be able to go for a mile without having to stop for breath and that all the work I'd done in the past three or four months had been totally undone in a few days.
All very odd.
It's like the battle has become psychological as well as physical now. I guess this is why sportsmen and women talk about belief all the time and why the M People tune Search for the Hero is always played at running events, because I'm finding that I'm having to dig deep like never before to keep going and keep the belief in myself and my ability.
Having run further and for longer than ever before, I still felt like I was so far off where I need to be that I just let doubt creep in and undermine everything. Plus the crappy February weather hasn't really been helping and I am so bored of the dark and the cold. In fact I think I was suffering some kind of come down after Sunday's run because all week I was feeling really down, like everything was rubbish and I was rubbish and I couldn't achieve anything worthwhile and all I wanted to do was curl up under the mattress and go to sleep until the summer.
On Thursday evening I went out for a run and felt 100 times better as a result, everything was possible again and the future was mine to take and do whatever I wanted with.
Those natural endorphins are really powerful I have to say, as was the uplifting Nick Cave tune I had turned up to 11 on my iPod, There She Goes, My Beautiful One. If you know the tune, you'll know what I mean, if not, go get and have a listen. I think you'll agree.
I also worked in some speed training after some good advice from a couple of regular readers, so thanks John and Dave for that. If nothing else it made me feel better to think I was doing something positive about the speed issue.
Now I'm looking forward to tomorrow's scheduled two hour run, as long as it doesn't rain. But I can really see what people mean about the addictive nature of something like this. I felt like a smackhead going cold turkey for days after Sunday, but Thursday night's fix brought me right back up again and I was on top of the world. Difference is I don't have to mug old ladies for £10 to get my fix, well, not these days anyway! (Or ever, honest).