Emma

10:05 pm: I was able to walk sooner than anticipated. (Ok, the cord was within arms reach of the couch.)

I give you the conversation of the weekend:

Me: You know, 42 kilometers is really far. Really, really far. Why did no-one mention this?
R.: I did. You know, the conversations where I told you that people who do a marathon without proper preparation die on the course?
Me: Oh, yeah. I should listen to my husband, for he is full of wisdom.
R.: Well, if we achieved nothing else this weekend...

( Read more )

07:23 pm: Exercising my demons.
When I started running, I had a dream: I was going to be able to run 10km.

Then I started hanging out with runners, and I got a new dream. I grew to believe that an admirable goal for a fit, intelligent, dedicated person was a marathon. I met people who were strong and very cool, and I wanted to be like them.

I ran a half marathon to win a gentleman's bet (if I did a half, a friend was going to do an ultramarathon.) Then, I ran more, and more half-marathons. Then, I got pissed at the pub after the Gold Coast 2008 half-marathon (children, this is why alcohol is bad), and declared in a loud, clear voice "I'm going to run this marathon, next year."

While I now believe what happens at the after-race party stays at the after race-party, I decided to do it. I picked a training program. I followed it. I went to the gym, I exercised. I put up weekly posts to this lj, to make myself accountable.

I have a number of fine character flaws. I am ambitious. I am stubborn. I am competitive, I am a perfectionist. It turns out, these are assets if you want to run a marathon.

I ran my last training run on Thursday. It was three km. I didn't even feel warmed up at the end of this.

I was also carrying injuries: muscles were not coming good, and I was walking funny. They came good on Saturday afternoon. (Gee, thanks for that, legs. Nothing like the last second recovery, is there?)

I spent most of Thursday, Friday and Saturday asking myself "Who the hell are you to run a marathon? You're old. You are not a natural athlete. You're fat. You're kidding yourself." I was terrified. You often see people being taken off the course on stretchers at a marathon.

My friend, Alison, has an amazing blog. Last week, she ran the Melbourne half, and she ran the GC half this week. She's a normal person, with a job, and kid, and husband and studies. And she wrote about her struggles with the demons of "Too old, too fat, Real Life, Not worthy". Those demons? Were spending quality time chilling out with me.

The maarathon was run as an Olympic event for women, for the first time, in 1984. I was in high school. Before then, women were considered too weak to run this endurance event. And in 2009, I was going to give it a go. In my memory, elite female athletes were not considered capable of doing this. And me, short, fat, unathletic and a recent runner, was going to try.

So, I was carbed up, ready to go, and scared. I got up early to see the half-marathon start (R. was running that, to kill some time while I was running.) I ate my toast. I had drinks and gels waiting for me on the course, complete with cartoons drawn by R. I went to the bathroom approximately seven million times. I babbled frantically to strangers about how scared I was. I went to the start line, and found three other first time marathoners to panic at.

I didn't even hear the gun go off. The runners started shuffling, and we were off. I had promised myself that I could not consider myself a failure if I passed the start line, so I left.

I'm used to running in freezing weather. I'm used to heading out the door and screaming "It's bloody cold." It was already over 10 degrees when I started. I'm capable of running a 35 minute 5km run. I decided to take it easy, because I wanted to finish. That was goal number one. Finish.

So, with the attitude of "I'm going to be out here a long time", I settled in, ran conservatively, and just kept on going. I decided on the relatively new shoes, since they felt ok during the week. At 4km, I got pins and needles in my right foot. I swore, rather a lot. It came good at 7km.

This race encourages no ipods. I obeyed, as I wanted to hear the human beings cheering. They did. I smiled and waved. Early in the run, I blew kisses to people who cheered me.

I also got Paul Kelly's "Dumb things" stuck in my head. I was running down an ocean, firmly to the back of the pack, but just keeping on, keeping on. I knew I'd be out there for hours. At 7km, I ate half a sports bar. I kept sipping my drinks. I kept on jogging.

The course is 15.5km out and 15.5km back, then another 5.5km out, 5.5km back. At 10km, the eventual winner powered back at me. After that, I got to see people I knew, people who had inspired me, running back at me. This helped. I saw some of my starting line buddies running back. I saw a guy called "Peanut", with his hand on his knee. I asked if he was ok and he said "I think I've hurt my knee really bad, mate".

After the pack passed, and I hit wastelands, I gave myself 5 minutes of ipod. I got Billy Joel's "All about soul", which helped. "Who's standing now, who's standing tomorrow"

I've seen my splits now, so I'll report them. I raced to plan until 15km. At 15km, I slowed down. That's when my day in the office started to get hard. Normally, 15km means 6km to go. Today, it meant 27km to go.

I race past a bunch of cafes, and I remember feeling almost murderous envy, that they were sitting down, drinking coffee, while I had to keep running.

At 24km, I caught up with Peanut. I'd made up 5km on this guy. Essentially, he had a real problem. I felt bad afterwards, but I saw the pain he was in, and I said "Mate. You don't have to do this. There are other marathons." And he said "But it's only 17km to go." The poor bastard had run 6km in the time it took me to run 11km. I wished him luck, and continued.

Every so often, I'd see a SAG wagon (Support and Gear) go back to the start. It had 6 seats in it for injured runners. They were always full. At 30km, I saw Peanut in one. I hope his knee is ok. There are other marathons.

At 30km, I was also expecting to pick up a drink and a gel. I hate sports gels. They taste nasty. But, I also needed the sugar and salt. My drink was still there. But my gel was not attached to it. It had fallen off, or something, but it was not there. Quite seriously, this was devastating. I nearly cried. I felt like vomiting, and got dizzy. I needed that gel. And it was not there. It was terrible. Since I could do nothing about it, I kept moving.

(I had another gel with me, but it was not one I prefer. It tastes of cough medicine, and I could not face it.)

R. had drawn a cartoon for me, on my drink bottle. It was a picture of Pan, and it said "You can do this, follow me!" (Pan is the god of exultant madness, and he also made manifest for the first marathoner.)

So, I ran. I got back to the starting line, and kept going. At 34km, I got a warning from a race offical that I needed to speed up, or I risked disqualification. I was trying to eat a sports bar, but it went back in my pocket, as I tried to speed up. I managed it, and got through the next check point at 35km. (I learnt later that someone after me told the race officals to get knotted when they tried to disqualify him, and he went on to finish, within the cut off. Good for him!)

It got ugly about there. I couldn't keep running, so I walked. I got put on the footpath, but I kept moving. At 38km, I felt happy, because it was only 4km, and I could do it. But I couldn't start running again until I got to 40km, when they had already turned off the recording device.

Then I started a slow, painful, shuffling jog. R. was waiting at 41km, and before the race I asked him to walk me to the end. I was hurting, and I'd lost the ability to smile at people who were cheering me, and I didn't want him to see this. I managed to say "I need to be alone for this" and kept running. I finally got to last 200 meters, and I could see the finish line. The announcer said "And here's Emma! She looks happy to be here!". I desperately want to see the professional finish photos, I was smiling, then I hit the first timing mat, and I was laughing, and then I hit the second timing mat and started to weep. (R. had taken a short-cut, and was there to see. As was Alison, who went above and beyond, waiting for me to finish.)

There are things I did well: I managed my race very well, I got in before the final cut-off. I hydrated and ate appropriately. I would like to be faster, and stronger. My gym workouts will be modified to strengthen the muscle groups that screamed.

I stood in the ocean for 15 minutes, and today, I suffer only minor injuries (one blister. One, maybe two toenails dead.) I need to walk, very slowly indeed. I randomly burst into tears every so often. I felt so good at the end, I showered, dressed and headed to the after party. I may have spoken of the Trailwalker 100km event, and my desire to do that. I may eventually remove my marathon finisher's medal. (I've shown it to everyone I have spoken to today. Including a waitress.)

There are things that are true of me. One is, I am a marathoner. No matter what, that will always be true for the rest of my life.

(Second marathon, Canberra 2010!)

With thanks to Paul Kelly.
And I get all your good advice
It doesn't stop me from going through these things twice
I see the knives out, I turn my back
I hear the train coming, I stay right on that track
In the middle, in the middle, in the middle of a dream
I lost my shirt, I pawned my rings
I've done all the dumb things
I melted wax to fix my wings
I've done all the dumb things
I threw my hat into the ring
I've done all the dumb things
I thought that I just had to sing
I've done all the dumb things

(Photos to follow, when I can walk enough to find the cord for the camera.)

Tags: exultant madness

04:54 pm: In horror movies, there is a convention that anyone who leaves the party doesn't come back at all (bad plan), or what comes back isn't quite human.

Tomorrow, I'm going for a little run. I'm not sure what will come back.

(All my injuries have settled down, turns out the leg pain was just the muscles sorting themselves out. My least favourite was the knee pain. It's stopped. I am not using painkillers/anti infams, because I think that my body needs to talk to me. It's current saying "ohshitohshitohsit we're all going to die.")

01:08 pm: It's like walking into hell.
Ok.

I skipped a run this week. So, I've run three times, a 6km, an 8km, and a 13km. Skipped a 5km, and it may have been the smartest thing I've done in a while.

I run a marathon next weekend. I'm terrified.

I was clever enough to buy new shoes when the old shoes had a bit left in them. I think I'll be wearing the old shoes for the marathon. (It's funny, there is a pressure point on the arch of the right shoe. Had this with the last pair, it took about 50km to get rid of it. I could wear thick socks, or old shoes. Old shoes sound like a good idea.)

I'm about to cast off the red dress.

I know a few loyal readers will physically be at the Gold Coast. I expect to run a 6 hour marathon. I will see you at the pub :) I hope to get to the 30km mark in 4 hours, so might see you then.

My leg is much better. I think the pain might have been different muscles healing. (They go into spasm when their buddy muscles are not happy.)

Now to prune roses and make a cake.

06:20 pm: Oh, hell.
I skipped my run this morning.

It was foggy and cold, but that wasn't why. It was because I have a muscle in my left leg that complains when I walk.

The taper is to heal injuries. Two weeks ago, I ran over 70km in a week, with no injuries. This week? My longest run is 12km (suffiently short that I won't be carrying water). And my leg goes on me.

So, this morning I made the decision not to run. A 5km training run is less important than the 42km in (oh, hell) 9 days. I hope to do it tomorrow, but if I need some rest, I'll take some rest.

(I was bad. I didn't sit in the ice bath after my last long run. I knelt. I didn't want to sit. What hurts? A muscle I didn't ice. It doesn't feel serious, but it feels like I don't want to run today.)

Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation. Please let this get better by Sunday, I have some long runs I have to do.

02:47 pm: It is easy to go down to hell.
Week 16 of 18 of marathon training is done and dusted. I have started to taper, which means reducing my exercise load. essentially, I need to maintain fitness, while letting all my injuries heal.

In slightly grotty timing, I had to replace my runners this week. The old ones are dead. (In a perfect world, I would buy a pair every two months and have several pairs in use. If anyone has an actual money tree, might I please have a clipping?) I explained to the nice lad in the shoe shop that I was going to run 20km in the shoes tomorrow, and if I sustained any injury to my feet, I would return to the store and make him eat the shoes. Happily, the fit was good, and my feet are happy. At this point in time, blisters would be disasterous.

So, this week I ran the schedule. I had an 8, a 12km, a 6km, and a 20km. I did look at the schedule and announce "But my long run is not even a half-marathon!" I think the program has won. All hail Hal!

Today, I am getting all my entries together for a knitting competition. I may have entered things that did not exist, and I have made them exist. Yippee! I am entering 14 items, in 8 catergories. (Normally, I stick to the knitting category.) I am entering rather a lot of things of my own design.

(My categories are Knitted Socks, Knitted Garments, Machine Knit Adult Garment, Machine Knit Childs Garment, article from own handspun, beaded item, handspun yarn and felted item.) Of these, 2 pairs of socks, a knitted shrug, machine knitted socks and machine knitted lace vest are of my own design.

Funny story about one of the pairs of socks: Competition knitting may not be washed. The night before the wedding, my parents and some friends got me rather drunk. I finished knitting a sock that night. I made everyone present have their photo taken with the sock, doing something silly. (Their choice). I've entered the sock in several competitions, and it always does well. But, it's not going on my feet until it's washed.

03:59 pm: Jogging the everlasting plains of hell.
Week 15 of the 18 Week training program is over. It's been a hard week.

During the week, I ran 8k, 16km, and 8km, as called for by the program. I had one week with a marginally reduced load due to the rat bastard cold, and then I went back into full load. It is not fun to run 16km and then do a full day's work, and then come home and cook tea. My cooking, which is tailored for efficiency, is getting more and more tailored for "tea on table in 15minutes." May I speak very highly of "Nigella Express" as a cookbook. We approve of cookbooks that are working on getting food on table, in very short periods of time.

Today. Today is the jewel in the crown of training for a marathon. The program calls for 20miles. 32km. I thought I'd give 35km a go, but anything over 32km is golden.

I had technology issues. Again. After 15km, My ipod kept deciding that I was either standing still or running very slowly. Then I'd walk, and it would decide that I was moving faster than my run. (Not true.) At 29.7km, it cheerfully announced "You have finished your workout". Which I hadn't. I had the keypad locked, so I couldn't tell it I'd finished.

Dear Apple. I know ipods are cheap. I know the sports kits are not top of the line kit. I actually really like it because it sings to me while I run. However, based on the arbitary crapness of this product, I sure as anything won't be upgrading my laptop to a Mac. Nor do I fancy an iphone, it might randomly decide to not work as well. See how it works? I've bought one of your low cost items. (And sunk rather a bit of cash into sensor replacement, when the battery wears out.) It's persuaded me that I do not wish to spend major cash on your products. Might want to think about that...

So, the ipod tells me that I've run 33km. I considered hitting out on a known 2km track for the last two, but the odds are I've done them. But, because I don't know 100%, I'll claim 33km.

(I'm totally researching a garmin. I use the tech as a training tool. It is so I can head out the door, and run whereever I fancy, without having to remember 35km of path!)

On a happier note, go me. I ran 33km (minimum) and only have to find 9km on race day.

And now, thank you to kind and merciful fates, I get to taper. I am weepingly grateful that my long run next weekend is 22km. That is the point of the training, to make you happy when you run a half marathon.

07:59 pm: Look at that foot, look at that heel, mark the magnificent muscles of steel! I am my ideal!
I was showing off my new biceps to R. So, I did a muscle-magazine pose and flexed. And invited R. to feel my biceps.

He poked me in the flexed arm, and said "You aren't flexing, are you?" He has been told.

*

The Gold Coast Marathon has posted out race day information. Apparently, it's on soon. I have a 35km run, then I start to taper. I think 2 years is a perfectly acceptable taper period.

Apparently, there will be live webcasts, and a way of tracking my time online during the race. When I figure it out, I shall post links. While I will not carry my phone during the race, I will lie on the ground afterwards, and make R. read me all the encouraging texts I received.

(He is getting very specific instructions. He is to wait for me, at a certain spot after the race, with a change of socks, a towel and trackies. I'm planning on a spot of sea-bathing to get my post marathon ice bath in. He's doing a half marathon, but he will have hours to kill before I'm finished.)

*

I refuse to even contemplate calorie restrictions when I'm in heavy training. In fact, I count calories in the other direction (am I getting enough in?). I track my weight to ensure I've eaten enough food. I have eaten every time I have felt hungry over the last week, I have eaten any thing my tiny heart desires. And I have still lost triple the amount of weight I feel happy about losing in a week. And this, my friends, is why I don't calorie restrict during peak training. I would die.

01:35 pm: Would you kindly direct me to hell?
Week 14 of the 18 week marathon plan. I obviously was thinking about knitting that day in maths class, as I seem to think 18 minus 14 is four. Which would imply four weeks to the marathon. Which is obviously crazy fish time. (I just checked with the resident R. who has confirmed my maths. Bother. This is scary.)

I have recovered from the rat bastard cold, yay! So it was back on the full schedule this week. During the week, I did 8km, 15km, 8km, and two hours of lifting heavy things in the gym. R. was not amused when I pointed at my 20kg barbell (bench press) and said "Sweetie, can you get that for me?" (Hey, if someone else will lift the wretched thing and I don't have to, I'm a happy girl.) Apparently, it only works if I do it.

Today, was 22km. No worries. I may have used the word "only" in describing it. I am running out of town to run around. I don't much like running laps, so I am having to get creative.

R. has invented something. I have some amazing bath oil, that smells good and soothes the muscles. He's started putting that in the ice bath for me. (Argh. Ice bath. But it means that I can walk tomorrow.)

Tomorrow, I am going to be a slug. I am not exercising, I am knitting. It will be a wonderful day.

07:33 pm: I'm looking around with a worried expression.

I started my day by running 15km. (Much like starting my day by eating a live toad: my day will not get more unpleasant.) Then, after I showered, I walked 2km to work. (Note to self: that means I'd moved 17km on foot before starting work. My training schedule called for 14km. Possibly, I should have shortened my run.)

When I got to my office, and sat down with a nice warm cup of tea and a coffee scroll, it started pouring rain. When I was inside, with no need to go outside. Normally, it starts raining when I am a few kilometers from inside.

It's obviously going to pour during my 8km run tomorrow.

And, yes. I still knit. Really. I'm preparing my 14 entries for a local textiles competition. The Wedding ring shawl is having another airing (it's currently earnt back the cost of the pattern, and the yarn.), and I'm getting a pile of other stuff ready. In an effort to expand my horizons, I'm not just entering the socks and garments category. In addition to my old favourites, I'm entering felting, original machine knitting and handspun yarn. Some of these things do not exist, as such, as yet.

I'm entering two knitted garments, one of which is finished. And I'm working on the red dress for the Gold Coast Marathon. So, yes. Still knitting. And after running 15km, and walking to and from work, I'll be doing a bit of knitting tonight.

05:42 pm: It amazes me, when people tell me how motivated I am for doing all the revolting exercise. They aren't around at 6:00am when I go through every excuse in the book.

This morning, I tried:
(a) It's raining. Oh, no it's not. Well, it was. The ground is wet.
(b) I cannot find my running shorts.
(c) I cannot find my sports bra.
(d) I don't like running in that sports bra, I like the other one.
(e) It's cold!
(f) It's dark!
(g) I don't like running in those shorts, I want the other ones.
(h) I'm tired.
(i) I'll do it after work. (Lies, all lies. I despise running after work. After work, I do not want to run, I want to eat cheese and drink beer.)
(j) R.'s not running. (R. is not training for a marathon.)
(k) It's still cold. No so dark, anymore.
(l) This running shirt does not match these shorts. (Because, you know, I care deeply about having my clothes match. Also, 6am. As if anyone is going to care that my shorts are blue, and my top is purple.)
(m) I don't want to wear these socks. I want the other pair that aren't dry yet.
(n) 8km is too far.
(o) I don't want to.
(p) I want to see what people have said to my last post, instead of running.
(q) Oh, knitting! I want to knit, not run.
(r) I'm hungry. I want breakfast instead of running.
(s) I don't want to wear my running cap, I want my running beanie. It's got a penguin on it. Can't find it. (Black garment, in the house of a recovering goth.)
(t) My doona is warm. Outside is cold. Doona smart, running dim.
(u) I have a sniffle. I bet running 8km is bad for a sniffle.
(v) The doctor on the radio is bleating about how bad being overweight is. I wish to listen, so I can mock him. Because, I'm an overweight distance runner. Oh, wait a second.
(w) Oooh, shiny.
(x) My legs don't hurt and I want to keep it that way.
(y) Maybe I should wind some laceweight yarn into a ball, instead.
(z) The Chook needs some company, instead of my running.

I eventually dealt with it all, put on my other running shorts, with a mismatching shirt, my less comfy running bra, my running hat, said goodbye to the yarn and headed out. I'd love to say I was rewarded with a wonderful run, but I got 4 km from my front door, and it rained.

10:19 pm: Week 13 is finished.

Due to sickness, this is the first week I did not complete the mid-week mileage. On Tuesday, I woke up coughing and it was raining. I was scheduled to run 6km. I declined to run in 4 degrees Celcius rain when I had a cold. So I pushed everything back a day. I was scheduled for 6km, 14km and 8km. I ran 6km, 11km and 6km. I also lifted weights for an hour on Thursday. I'm not thrilled that I cut down my kilometers, but I needed the sleep more.

I was still coughing on Sunday, but felt otherwise ok. I was scheduled for a 29km run. My game plan was to start running, and see what I could do. I have a number of favourite runs around town (a 7km, an 6km, a 5km, another 7, another 5). To hit my mileage of 29km, I decided to run them all, in sequence. This had the benefit that if my legs fell off, I'd not be too far from home. I have one more really long run scheduled (35km) and then some shorter long runs ones (22km, 19km, and 15km). If it all went pear shaped, I planned on swapping the 22 and the 29km.

When I started running, my goal was to be able to run 10km. I then upgraded it to a half marathon. After I learnt to run the half as a heroic effort, I found I could go out and just run 15km. Then, my goal was to be able to run a half marathon as something my body could just do. After a week of battling a cold, I found myself considering a 21km run as the soft option. I've made it. I live in a body that can go out and run a half marathon as something I can just do.

Sunday is a happy day in my calender, and that is my gift to myself. A body that considers a half-marathon to be a thing we can just do, not an amazing, far-off goal.

I made the 29km. I was carrying a phone, but didn't need it. (It did buzz a few times, which was great. It was so nice to get messages when I was running.) I did phone home with 2km to go, to get R. to run the ice bath. 29km is a long way. I suffered some technologic difficulties (the ipod went on strike at 18km. It decided I was standing still.) But I made it. I can run 29km. I ate my gels, I ate my sports bar, I drank my sports drink. I finished feeling fine, demanding lunch.

This coming weekend, I only have to run 22km. It will be nice to run a short one.

01:56 pm: All right then, I'll go to hell.
I have a head cold. I sound funny, and my nose won't stop running. It is the only bit of my body keen on running.

This week, was week 12 of marathon training. (18 - 12 is 6. Six times seven is 42. That cannot be the number of days until my first marathon.)

I did my mid-week runs ok. 6km, 12km and 8km : No worries. Saturday, a head cold appeared. I have no time to be sick, so hit it with everything in the pharmaceutical arsenal.

And today, I hit it with a good dose of crazy. I took my head cold, and ran 19km. And then had an ice bath. I am hoping the head cold is saying "You are a crazy lady, I'm off elsewhere. I don't want to be taken for a 19km jog, I want to sit on a couch. What's with the ice bath?"

I couldn't bring myself to eat a gel today. (Can't imagine why.) I did manage to soak my legs in the bath. Including the top half of my legs. I leave it to the reader to consider the topological limitations.

04:02 pm: When you die you go to heaven. Until then, welcome to hell!
I have completed Week 11 of the 18 Week Training program. Did you hear that? That was the sound of my mind refusing to do two bits of mathematics : subtracting 11 from 18, and multiplying the number thus obtained by 7. Because I really don't want to have a mental image of days left until the marathon, and have it be less than 50. (surely not. It is wrong.)

This week, I ran a 6km, 12km, 6km and 26km. For cross training, I ran 5km. I had to travel this week for work, and I was running with time limits. So I ran laps, rather than out and back, for the 6km, 12km and 6km. I had no gym access, so didn't lift heavy things.

The interesting runs this week were the 26km on Saturday, and the cross training. I got through the 26km, I did 7km of it on a hilly track, the rest on the flat. It rained. I got a 'They might be giants song' stuck in my head, with improved lyrics. I finished feeling good, and flung myself in an ice bath.

I was asked if the ice bath was necessary. I use it to prevent injury. Last week, I lasted 2 minutes. This week, I got a timer, and stayed in for 10 minutes. I screamed when I put my feet in the water, and I was not happy at ten minutes. It is amazingly effective, I was able to dance last night, and race today, and my legs are only slightly sore.

Today, there was a local fun-run and race. I'm a member of the run club that put it on, so it was very important to me, that I support the race. This will tell you of my personality problems: I've been feeling guilty that I only ran the 5km. (I felt really bad when people asked which one was I doing.) It was a good race.

I am reminded of why I prefer the longer races. I got a bunch of run/walkers, who were pacing off me. I'd run at a constant pace, and whenever I caught up, they'd sprint off. I don't care if you're a run/walker, I think its great that people are running. It just gets up my nose that every time I catch up, they sprint off. It feels personal. I did have a few people tell me they were using me for pace, because I'm very even. Longer races do not get run/walkers, in general.

I had to keep telling myself, when people sprinted away from me "I bet they didn't run 26km yesterday." In the last 500 meters, I cruised past the run/walkers, and I kept pushing. As I got 2m from the finish line, the bunch was making an attempt to pass me. Even though I was doing the race as a recovery run, my lizard brain said "Overtake? I don't think so, princess" and I sprinted to stay in the lead.

I run with an ipod +plus, and the sensor is dead. I've been running with just a stopwatch, and today, it didn't want to play either. So, I ran with no information, just listening to my legs and seeing what felt good. I'm attempting to train to 8 minute kilometers, but without the ipod, it's tricky. I was delighted to race a 37min, 44 sec 5km race. It's not my best time over 5km, but it's very solid, especially considering that yesterday I ran 26km, which is the furthest I've ever run.

I bought a pile of veggies today at a farmers market, so I am going to cook lots of yummy food. I have rhubarb, and strawberries, for a start. Yummo!

12:02 pm: Going to hell in a handbasket
Just completed week 10 of the marathon training program.

During the week, I ran a 6km, an 11km and a 6km. My long run today was 24km.

I have a body that can run 24km, and finish upright, still able to walk, and feeling good. I ran a half marathon, and then another 3km. I am so proud of myself, I could burst. It's a bloody long way, and I'm not entirely thrilled that I'd have another 18km to go for the marathon, but I feel strong, healthy, in control and mentally alert.

My long run nutrition is working really well, I've got a combination of drinks (20 oz strong staminade, 20 oz water) that I sip whenever I need to. I eat a sports bar and a powergel (which is just revolting.) If I had to run another 5km today, I am confident that I could. (I'm not going to, I'm going to be a bit more sedate.)

I went to a party last night, had one drink and bailed at half midnight, so I could run today. R. stayed behind, got home at silly o'clock and was not best pleased when I phoned him from 2km away demanding he make me breakfast for when I got back,

I ran an out and back, today. I ran out of town pretty quickly, and ended up running towards another town. It's a worry when your long run has you using the "distance to the next town" signs as distance marker. "C 35" and "C 30". I ran a bit extra to get to "C 30".

I'm off for an ice bath (yucko) and breakfast. HMmm, breakfast.

08:58 pm: It's winter. How can I tell? The Chook wants to be near me (which just happens to be a warm part of the house.) He's sat on my lap and cuddled.

He then tried to bite me, but I've got a cuddly pet.

He doesn't love me, he just likes warmth.

10:46 pm: The road to hell
Week 9 of the marathon training program completed. It was a "step back" week, so my long run got shorter. This led to the somewhat amazing mental place of saying "Yes! I only have to run 16km this weekend."

I had a boozy dinner planned on Saturday night. Parties are not a reason not to run. However, I gave myself a slight break and ran the 16km on Saturday monring, which meant I didn't have to think about it on Sunday. Yay! Follow that with a rest day on Monday, and I've had two whole days without running.

So, this week I ran 5km, 11km, 6km, and 16km. After last weekend's half marathon, I had two days to recover before running again. My body was not keen on this. The first time I ran 21km, it was a heroic effort, and I gave my body two weeks to recover. Now, I normally give myself 3 or 4 days off after a half.

So, this led to some interesting conversations between myself and my body last week, two days after the half.
Body: Yay, for we have run a half marathon. I rest now!
Brain: Um, no. That was a training run. Come on, we have to run again.
Body: I don't think so, sunshine. We run half marathons. That was a half marathon. After the A-race, we rest. Just ran a half. Therefore, we rest.
Brain: I see. Get with the program. We are running a marathon. That's where we run a half-marathon, and then do it again.
Body: I really don't think so. I put up with enough of your insanity, we're not going to do that. Here. Have a really sore ankle.

So, I woke up on Wednesday with a body in high rebellion, and an ankle that was not happy. I was inclined to skip the run, but warmed up, and after stretching, my ankle came good.I know I'm meant to listen to my body, but it can sometimes be a whiny little princess.

Also, I'm practicing race day nutrition. Exciting times, really. I had a brand of sports gel, which tastes like cough medicine and promotes a similar response from my body. I've made the decision that I prefer Powergels, but I had one of the other type left over, and figured that I might as well eat it. At 8km, I'm jogging along, forcing this stuff down my gullet, and I read the front of the pack. I'd read the back of the pack in detail, but I'd only glanced at the front. 17g of carbs, it said. Then: no added sugar. This thing is mostly composed of water, and contains no sugar? I see the wretched thing as a lost opportunity. There should have been a gram of sugar in every gram of water. "No added sugar" in a sports gel? You're kidding me. They aren't snacks, they are for keeping the brain alive during a run.

Hmmm. This weekend, I have a 25km run to look forward to. I'm sure that will be immense fun.

06:29 pm: A day that rolls around
Four years ago today, I was sitting on a couch, involved in a valiant effort to drink my body weight in red wine. I wasn't suceeding at that, but I was giving it a red hot go. My friend, and owner of the couch, was watching with concern as I tried to get very drunk indeed.

The problem was an exceeding boring life crisis, and I was trying to forget that I really had nothing in my future I believed in. My friend, genius that she is, made a suggestion. I could commit to doing a 4 kilometer run in three months time. She would help me train, and I would have that thing in the future that I could believe in.

The next week, she and some very good friends took me out for my first exercise session. After a week of brisk walking, I tried running 300m. After I finished dying, I was very proud.

Over the neext few months, I ran my 4km. But my friends had suggested that I enter a race after that, and another after that. So, I walked the City to Surf, and ran another 4km. And at that race, I decided to train up to run 10km, like my friends did.

And after a while, I decided to try running a half marathon. 21.1km. And I tried once, and got injured, and then I tried again, and did it. And then I spent 2 years running more and more half marathons, doing 5 last year.

So far this year, my half-marathon tally is one. I did it last weekend, training for the full marathon. I woke up this morning, and while it was cold and miserable, I went for an 11km run (wearing my stunning "Will run for Margaritas" top). I don't think I imagined living in a body that can just run 11km. I thought about running sometimes, but not as something I did. It was in the "why would you do that?" sense.

Happy running annversary, me. I've run a long way, and I have something in my future I can believe in: that I am a runner.

10:45 am: And I've seen who is in Heaven. Is there anyone in hell?
I just completed Week 8 of the marathon training program.

During the week, 5km, 10km, 5km. No worries, all done.
Cross-training: gym work. No worries, done.

We have been hit by sudden 'extreme' weather. Rain, and high winds. Today, we have predictions of hail, sleet, snow and flooding in the near-by hills.

Last night, we were listening to heavy rain on the tin roof and howling winds, and R. turned to me and said "I would never encourage anyone training for the marathon to skip a long run. But, it's dangerous out there." After discussion, we agreed that if the weather was appalling I'd do my long run at the gym, on the treadmill. The thought of spending hours on the treadmill makes me want to scream.

Today's run was 21km. I planned to take it out to 21.1km, to make a half marathon.

It wasn't raining, so I ran outside, and I had a great run. It's blowing like a thousand bastards out there, I finished 21.2km (the furthest I've ever, ever run!) and I feel good. I don't hurt, I'm about to ice the legs (ok, that will hurt.)

I had breakfast before I ran, which worked really well. (Normally, I run on an empty stomach.) I have found a sports bar that tastes like food. (Hi5). I tried a Powergel, and apart from the aniseed aftertaste (WTF? I hate aniseed.) it worked moderately well. I have to take sips that are about the size of a pea of that stuff, otherwise it makes a bit for freedom.

I did the half marathon today, 3 minutes faster than my last raced half marathon. I'm very happy. I'm working on running an even pace for as long as I can, but I had not flagged by 21.2km. I think the trick is getting calories in, so that my brain never starts losing it's glucose (my legs don't care where they get energy from. The liver and the brain contain a lot of energy.)

Today, I ran a half marathon as a training run. And followed it with another 100m.

07:08 pm: Ok, the urge to write a ranty post is strong in this one (due to the decline of Western Civilisation, as witnessed by the decline of simple manners.)

So, I'm going to post a few happy things, as per the meme and then have a bath (With the bath oil to the extra-ordinarily average athlete, by the fabulous House of Havisham)

(a) I have new running socks. My old ones wore out after 700km, which is fair enough. They have black toes, and are stripey. No one will ever know, but I'm back to my preferred brand prior to my long run on Sunday.

(b) I have a night doing very little. Yay! I could have gone to the gym, but bugger that. I've been this week, and I'm resting before my long run.

(c) My leg is much better. It's still interesting colours, but the graze is much better.

(d) I'm about to have a bath, and then eat steak. All is good. (Except for the decline in Western Civilisation, but what is a girl to do.)