#operation move

Or little lies. And other truths.

Dear Kirsten,

Well, chick, you said you were looking forward to reading this, and knowing that you’re setting out on your epic adventure today and you’re out there as I write, I figured your body will be ready for a sit down by the time I press publish, so I have you as my captive! I can blether on and on. And on. And your only resistance will be sleep. Bwahaha.

City2South or #justcallmedavid - the race I never ran

A funny thing happened on Sunday. Not necessarily funny haha, so if you’re looking for laughs, why are you even on my blog? No, I’m talking the other funny – odd, strange, in keeping with my personality…

Sunday was deemed a rest day in the vague scheme in my head that is my “training plan”. And as the Brisbane weather had decided – for the first time in my experience – to be anything other than…

Making time for yourself - it's hard, but it is possible. Here's how... #mumrunner #blog #keepshowingup

How do you make time for yourself?

I was thinking, in the wee-small hours when I should have been asleep, about something I read on Facebook. It was the frustration someone was experiencing being held back from starting a new exercise programme. Damn life was getting in the way. Like it does.

It’s such a nasty habit, Life! Have a word with yourself.

Life was making it hard to find time. And it is…

Oh yes, that’s right. I could get injured. Again.

So my second marathon entry within 6 months, and my second injury in the same space of time. At least it was a different part of my body, I suppose.

But there’s even more to this theme than meets the eye.

Because on both occasions, I was going to run with Coach Zoey. Who I am now convinced thinks I go around throwing my body at hard or sharp objects, or contorting myself ridiculously, simply to avoid running with her.

So to try and reduce the amount she must now hate me, I thought the least I could do was go to Maidenwell and cheer her on. (And ensure she had somewhere to sleep, as Maidenwell isn’t a-wash with accommodation options, and Zoey’s nest for the night was supposed to be my tent).

Besides, I wanted to find this Maidenwell…

So Easter Saturday, car laden with the tent, sleeping bags and hot cross buns (not much else), we set off. We lasted all of 5 minutes before pit-stopping, but only to pick up coffee. Because, you know, coffee. Important on road trips. And the next thing I knew, we were in Toowoomba. I was definitely paying careful attention to driving, but there was significant chatting along the way and it made the time pass. So we re-caffeinated in town. But not according to the tip we’d been given, because I had, erm, possibly got onto the wrong road and we possibly went the “extra scenic” route to Maidenwell. But all was fine, and it was the only minor diversion of the weekend. It was NOT because I was paying more attention to chatting than the route map!! :D

Maidenwell is a “blink and you miss it” place. So much so that I saw the sign for the running festival on my right only to find I’d just driven past the campsite and race HQ. OOPS!

We doubled back and, having never been to a small, grassroots event, we wandered nervously round the site feeling a little unsure of ourselves. Where were all the marshals? The signage? The razzmatazz?

And then we found the centre of operations! Pretty obvious really…

So having identified Race HQ, we ventured in to pick up race numbers, or in my case, plead for a race exchange. EVERYTHING about Maidenwell is laid back, so swapping events was not a problem. From marathon to 5km in the strike of a pen!

I hadn’t wanted to worry Zoey (or give her further cause to hate me), but I’d never laid eyes on the tent I’d brought until the previous day. So I had to do my very best impersonation of a camping ninja, attempting to look confident and assured as I fumbled with putting up the tent. I managed to pull off the stunt and luckily the canvas was all correctly assembled just as the rain arrived.

We all hoped it would be short and sharp, but it recognised the company it was keeping, so settled in at a solid, steady pace to go the distance. (Having spent the morning scorching those running the Saturday 57km and 42.2km events). Ah, Melbourne – even Queensland can do changeable weather sometimes…

We planned to eat at the Maidenwell Hotel/pub/community centre (because I’m pretty sure it serves all purposes, except hotel, as I don’t think they have rooms). Zoey was relieved to see that Friday and Saturday were pizza night, as the board brandishing news of Pig on a Spit wasn’t really tempting to a vegetarian. Only, we learned, the hog roast was all that was on offer this particular Saturday. :( And whilst they very kindly raided the freezer to find a couple of vegetable patties, it might have been better if I hadn’t lost the gas bottle connector when I left the cylinders in Whyalla when we moved, and given ourselves the option to self-cater…

So sustained on a few veggies in Zoey’s case and loads of meat and veggies in mine, we trundled back to camp and after a smidgen more chatting, turned in the for the night.

Which was when I started to regret quite the volume of veggies I had eaten.

Let’s just say, it’s fairly uncomfortable sharing a tent with someone who hasn’t got themselves locked into a marriage pact with you when you’ve eaten a hearty dinner of protein and fibrous carbohydrates and they haven’t.

(Besides, I’m too much of a lady for that kind of behaviour)…

The rain continued through the night and drizzled undecidedly into the morning. The marathon runners (several hard core running nutters amongst them – some running 3 marathons in 3 days OR 57km on Saturday and 42.2km on Sunday?) set off at 6am, and the weather looked promising.

Their task was to run 2 circuits of the 21.1km course, including a loop alongside the finishing strait, so they got a shout out from the compere and voice of the Maidenwell Running Festival, Darryl. (Who sounds like he probably commentates horse races and is the town auctioneer as circumstance dictates).

Next out were the 10km runners, followed by the half marathoners and finally those of us running 5km. And it was at this stage that the true beauty of Maidenwell revealed itself. Because alongside the die-hard members of the ultra running community, here were locals and shorter distance specialists and other mere mortals, and everyone was out on parts of the course at the same time, and all were hugely supportive of every other person out there.

The 5km was harder going than I’d expected. Was it the grassy (and muddy) off-road course, the steady hills or just the drop in running fitness due to injury? I couldn’t tell, but it felt much harder than the 5km I’d run the previous week as part of the Twilight Run. And whilst Zoey said the marathon route was stunning in parts, the 5km never really got you to a vantage point with views across the Bunya mountains. (Still way better than trotting alongside busy city roads on a Sunday morning!!) And so, I completed the 5km, running into the finish circuit with Darryl shouting out my name for all the “crowd” to hear. I was presented by one of the little kids with my cowbell (in place of a medal – so much cooler) and waved at by Amanda from River City Runners, who was timekeeping on the day.

My cowbell was a great asset, because it was in my possession when Zoey came in for her first loop AND as she headed back out to start her second loop AND again when she approached the finishing strait. How delighted she must have been to hear the joyous jangling of a cowbell every time she was in earshot!

The rain made it’s mind up about its intentions on the second loop of the marathon and decided on a full blown downpour. I packed up the tent as best I could. I’m pretty sure I provided great amusement for the couple camping next to us, as they sensibly sheltered under their awning, whilst I worked like an ant ferrying things to the car. But it meant that as Zoey finished, I was ready to whisk her off (on the correct route home) and get her as directly as possible to some post-race FOOD.

  And whilst it may have rained, the spirit of Maidenwell was never dampened. It was a truly unique and welcoming event, and if you’re looking for a big or a little challenge, or want to be part of something that is a bit different, or you want to get away from it all, or you like quirky, or just need to find a way to fall back in love with running, then why not give Maidenwell a whirl in 2017? You will have an adventure!

Open Letter to Beginner Runners - the start of your story

Dear Beginner Runner,

Easter is over and depending where you are in the world, the weather is either just warm enough, or finally cool enough to make the prospect of the great outdoors appear enjoyable. And here you are, at the beginning of your journey to running, eagerly anticipating that first breath of air in your lungs as you joyously spring into action.

Or more probably, you’re bricking…

What happens when you abruptly stop running?

Not the sort of stop running, when you’re puffing like you’re auditioning for a part as a very raspy engine on Thomas the Tank Engine. Or giving a raspberry a good run for its money on who’s the darkest shade of red. But the “you can’t run anymore because you’ve damaged something and any more running will make it worse”.

Anyone who likes running would…

It probably feels less holiday-ish for the Grumpster, as he has to get up each morning and drive to work.

Which has led to the creation of a great game that I get to play every day.

The game goes like this: I say how much I’m enjoying my new lifestyle. Grumpster responds “until you get a new job”. I give him a confused look and say “but I don’t have a job?” and then watch the look of horror/panic wash across his face. We play this game every day and my glee is undiminished, just as the horror/panic expression is undimmed!

I am enjoying being at home. Most of the time.

I make an exception for the times when the noses emerge from books/phones and realise there is an annoying little brother who needs to be admonished for breathing/existing in the wrong way.

And I got round to thinking about what I’d do with my time, if my life were a perpetual holiday. And money grew on trees. And Qantas flew jogging-bloggers round the world to various destinations.

Kate, from OpMove, mentioned that she wants to run in the Honolulu marathon, which was followed up with pictures on the Running GIRL FB page of Nicole and a friend actually there. Coming from the UK, Hawaii was simply a surf destination in a reasonably inaccessible part of the world with pretty tropical trees. And more to the point, coming from the UK, surfing is simply a sport for masochists with a penchant for rubber. Nutters!!

So I made me a little wish list of a marathon a month (well, there are 12 but some of them double-up in the same month):

January

The Disney Marathon, and in particular the Dopey Challenge. There’s just something appealing about running 4 distances alongside a bunch of dressed up people. I find costumed runners motivating. I ran my fastest 5km a few years ago because I couldn’t face the ignominy of being beaten by a human-sized chicken. And the guy running in a rhino head at Comrades meant I could find my way back to my “bus” when I dropped off the pace for the second most mentioned wee in running history (after Paula Radcliffe’s London Marathon display, of course).

April

Boston Marathon.  Because when you’ve spent 12 hours running over an 87.7km course and yet there’s only one single, solitary photo of me (walking) from Comrades, I’m a bit over being lost in the crowd.  So the thing with Boston is that being a #backofthepacksuperstar would make me stand out amongst all the talented runners. Now just to doctor my birth certificate so I can qualify as good for age: aged 104…

May

Comrades. Don’t ask me why, but it is the Ultimate Human Race.

  And afterwards, you’re in the most amazing part of the world for holiday experiences. Ballito is a gorgeous coastal resort, but the big draw for me will always be the animals. We stayed at the Lions Valley Lodge on the Nambiti Private Game Reserve and had the most amazing holiday. The whole experience from food, accommodation, game drives through service was superlative from start to finish. You’re so cosseted and so safe, it was the perfect way to rest and relax after a big run.

June

Stockholm and Tromsø. Seeing as they’re both in Scandinavia, and seeing as I’d like to keep them both on my bucket list, it seemed sensible to choose them both. I’d love to run the Stockholm marathon, just because it’s in such a beautiful city. The Tromsø marathon is the Midnight Sun Marathon. I’d like to experience running in broad daylight, but knowing it’s the middle of the night. My other Scandinavian bucket list item is seeing the Northern Lights, but that’s for another time and another season. If I could learn to cross-country ski, then I’d team it with a winter snow marathon!

Courtesy of Midnight Sun Marathon website

July

Brisbane. How can you not run your home marathon? (At least in theory – running a marathon this close after Comrades is very unlikely in reality. For me, anyway.) But 2016 will be the race’s 25th birthday, so I shall definitely attend in some form or other. There’s also the Outback Marathon at Ayers Rock which appeals for the iconic status of the destination.

August

Marathon du Médoc. Run from vineyard to vineyard, with tasters along the way. Not your average mid-race fuel, but when have I ever been able to say no to the offer of a glass?

Courtesy of marathon website

September

Berlin. Only because I’d love to see the East of the city. When I was a student back in the day, the Berlin Wall divided it and you needed to exchange about $20 to be able to get into the east. I didn’t have enough, so I could only get as far as the Brandenburg Tur and look at it’s arse. My claim to fame is that I was still living in Germany when they pulled the Wall down, and I watched on my little German TV set in my little German apartment as people scrambled up and pulled down bricks and joined their country back together.

October

Melbourne. I have a date with a gorgeous girl, who I used to see most days, but now we’re 2000 kms apart. Life’s a lot more fun when she’s around – there always seem to be shenanigans involved, so I’m already counting down the days already.

Ness and her new wheels

November

Queenstown. New Zealand has to be visited, and this place looks fab, so I’m putting it on my list just because.

December.

So, maybe I could be persuaded, having seen Nicola’s pictures on FB. Hawaii, you’ve made the cut. But keep me away from the rubber fetishists, OK!

Courtesy of marathon website

What races are on your bucket list?

Could you run a marathon a month? (I’m pretty sure I couldn’t.)

And what sort of holiday do you like? Chill out or active?

But like a little lamb, I’ve sprung into a new health regime.  Now you’d think, or at least I thought (because I can’t imagine you spend a significant proportion of your day worrying about what’s going on in my little head) – so yes, I thought that I’d have loads of time on my hands with this running injury, so that I’d get to all the things.  All the things that allude me normally because I’m either running or too tired from running and just neeeed a little nap.

There are many things I thought I’d be more bothered about and find time for – like planning meals, for instance. I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be able to do this sort of thing. (Certainly seems so when I read all the good parenting magazines and blogs.  It makes me realise there is a gap in my proficiency and yes, I hang my head in shame at my delinquency.  In fact, I may be missing an ingredient essential to femininity).  But luckily I was born with the attention span of a gnat, so the worry doesn’t stay with me for long. :)

Anyway, turns out I can’t, even with more time on my hands – or to be more precise, can’t be bothered…  Because it just hurts my head.  It reminds me of science lessons.  (They hurt my head a lot, even though Physics was my third favourite subject after English and German: possibly explained by having a cute teacher).

And it’s not like I don’t like making things – give me a picture and a pair of knitting needles and I can probably figure out how to recreate some miniature woolly version of what we’re looking at in less than an hour. Give me a chicken breast, a capsicum and a potato and all you will get is a blank stare.

Creating this egg cosy didn’t make my head hurt..

So, with the lack of running, too much reading about how to be healthy and the generally empty head around what that means as a meal  (oh, and don’t forget the Thermomix that has instructed me on how to make edible cake – something else I hadn’t fathomed, because any previous handmade effort was likely to sink a duck), and my waistline has started to expand at an alarming rate.

Now don’t get me wrong, I know (in the logical part of my brain) that I’m not particularly overweight.  However, there is another part that senses my tightening pants and immediately goes back to childhood conversations like “my grandma thinks you’re bonny. When she says people are bonny, she means they’re fat“, then freaks out and regresses to being an insecure pre-teen, with a hand in the lolly jar for comfort.

Now the difference I’ve found between insecure pre-teen-me and current-day-me (apart from cunningly disguised grey hairs, a few *cough* wrinkles and about 35 years) is a sense of control.  And I get that from owning my life.  And I seem to have been having a wee bit of a wobble in that department recently. So, I have decided to take back control. Or rather, I’ve gone one better. I have decided to outsource it – at least the control over my food – to the one and only Michelle Bridges.

I have tried this before, and it has had varying levels of success.  When I first gave 12wbt a whirl, I was very dedicated.  Some, particularly the Grumpster, would say martyred. (If truth be told, I gave him a good run for his money on the Grumpster stakes, and nearly took his crown).  Luckily, the family threw an ambush before I quite managed to win the title, as they realised the recipes were pretty damn tasty and better than most of our normal fare.  Which seemed to come packaged in take-out boxes a bit too regularly. So, we converted on masse to eating the 12wbt way.  I also stuck rigidly to the exercise plan and lost some weight, and was “successful”.

I guess you could say on the downside, the food allowance was less than I needed, so it gave me leeway to nibble and snack on all the sugary treats that *complement* my diet, so I didn’t really change my habits.

The good news is that there are thermomix versions of the recipes AND the calorie allowances are higher now, which means the portions will be more generous.  I’m still a bit confused about the whole low-fat = sneaky added sugar, so I’m tempted to replace things like low-fat yoghurt with the real deal. (That’s obviously because of my IQS credentials and nothing to do with the fact that it just tastes a gazillion times better…) But that sort of things tends to get into the “me making decisions about food” and that’s a scary place!!

So, for now, I need to do some fitness testy type things.  Which is not good, as the effects on my fitness after 4 weeks of doing no exercise is going to be revealed in all its glory. *Gulp*  But the physio needled my ITB again yesterday, (I did take a photo, but I think it’s safer to leave you with the mental image, rather than the real one: my bum was transformed into a porcupine, briefly), and it seems to be much, much, much better today. Which means things can only get better. Can’t they?

Have you had any moments of Spring madness yet?

What are your plans for the next 12 weeks?

  P.S.I have to confess that I will still be following my Operation Move running programme, because the 12wbt one does get a tedious.  But shh, let’s just keep that between ourselves.