Its a bloody thick wall

As runners, (yes I am still gripping onto that term) we all go through patches of not so great running. What brings it on? It could be the stress of work, come back from injury, too much running, not enough running, poor diet, and my personal favourite - generally can't be fucked.

 I have hit the wall people. The biggest, reinforced, hurricane strengthened wall you can imagine. I've run at it, sat and looked at it, ridden my bike at it, tried to piggy back on my friends over it, all with limited success. It will mortify almost everyone who reads this, but I just don't like running at the moment. 


The six weeks I had off, seems like a lifetime ago, and since then I've fumbled my way through 6-7 hours a week of 'running'. I've quite possibly done more complaining, sulking, stretching and walking then I have actual running. I've also felt like I've worked harder than I've ever had to, and I still feel like I'm running at the speed of cheese. My Garmin tells me otherwise. There is absolutely nothing wrong with my pace. So what is with this wall? Where has that enthusiasm for running gone... up the boohai shooting pukekos perhaps?


I've talked to a couple of people lately about this wee pickle, and I've come up with a few things which might be causing this head on collision with the wall of doom.

 

1) Was I only training so hard because I had so much riding on my result at Tarawera? (Fundraising for Hospice). That race meant the world to me, and there wasn't a chance I was going to give anything less than 100%

2) I expect I should be running faster, and I'm putting too much pressure on myself to get back to where I was? I don't really believe in this one. I'm quite happy with my pace, its the effort it takes to do said pace which is the issue.

3) There are too many rest days and opportunity to procrastinate. Prior to injury, I was running 6 consecutive days a week. This seemed to work, and I could say if it was too much. Currently, I'm on a 3 on 1 off type system. Which means I can get away with pushing a run out the afternoon if I'm feeling like a sleep in. Lazy.

4) This will make you giggle, because it is THAT ridiculous. I don't like that my coach, coaches so many of my friends now. We are all on similar plans, with the same end goal. How am I going to be faster, if we're all doing the same thing. How selfish can I be! It’s a huge problem though. Sorry coachy!

5) How the fuck can Keith Crook have so much time off, and still run like a mountain goat. Grrr. Love you Keith.  :-)

6) I've not raced. I think I've developed a phobia of it. Some people love racing, but I have nothing to prove and don't hold racing in very high regard. To me, it’s a lot of money for something you can do for free.

  
I've been so close to making the call to throw in the towel. Then I tell myself, just give it another week. So what have I been doing to try and get over my hump you ask? Well I tried avoiding my friends for a week, and every single day one of them would turn up and drag me along. That's some pretty awesome friends right there. I've tried running with new people in new places. Shaun Collins put up with me for a few hours out west... turns out we had a lot to talk about, and not much running was done. I tried bribing myself with beer and sausages this weekend on a recce run of the Te Henga section of the Hillary Trail. Again, there was more talking and photo taking done than running... but I had fun. Monday was a pivotal running moment for me. Whitford Forest is my favourite place to run. I love pine forests, people prattle on about the beauty of our native bush ... bluuurrgg... Pine is where it’s at, I love the way the sun flecks through, I love the Smurf houses in Autumn, and wild flowers in Spring, the smell of the pine needles, the sound the wind makes swirling through the tops ahhhh. Anyways, back to my run. I went alone, a rare occurrence, and I wasn't looking forward to it. But in fact,  I had the freedom to run as fast or slow as I liked, with my shirt off, and CCR cranking on my IPod. I didn't have to talk or keep up with anyone, I just enjoyed the forest and running free.

Unfortunately, I'm a bit sore and tired today... but I'm going to hold on to that run, and hope it sparks a little fire in my belly (not of the heartburn variety though)

See me in all my Lillyhuff glory at the Speights Westcoaster in 3 weeks. Promises to be perfect conditions for a shit fit.


Thank you for reading. I am Leah, and I hate running.

Giddy up unicorn

I'd say I was pretty much through my 6 weeks of getting back fitness. I kind of lost count after 4, and got too busy trying to keep up with life.
So the good news....The diet lasted long enough to shift my little belly which took residence during my 6 weeks off. I lasted 4 weeks with no booze, but then I  decided I liked myself better when I'm not grumpy because I'm deprived of the things I love. My jeans got a bit lose at the top and tight in the legs, to some that might be a sign of failure, but to me its success... welcome back quads, you're much more sexy than cellulite. This has been enough to get me back to a happy place.

Everyone's definition of fit is different, so if you think I'm only fooling myself by not weighing in, then that's your opinion which you can keep to yourself. Its only my happiness which matters at the end of the day. I've accepted I will always one of the bigger runners on the start line, but that doesn't mean I'm any less fit. I have muscles to power up hills, curves to hold my skirt up and bewbs (Kerry Suters spelling, not mine) to keep Shock Absorber Bras in business *shameless sponsorship plug*  Some might suggest, all of that coupled with my witty personality and extensive 50s & 60s music collection, makes me a very desirable running partner.

You have to be at least this photogenic to run with my group.

The whole point of this exercise was to get my race fitness back. I wouldn't say its back, but there are a few flickers of hope.

Weeks 1 & 2 made for pretty unfortunate reading. I couldn't run (by run I mean walk) up hills without a back up oxygen tank, I couldn't run with my friends for more than 10 minutes before I got dropped, and I couldn't run more than 5:50min/k on the flat. Oh the shame of it. I was ready to quit.

The circle locates the area where I use to have muscle. First run after 6 weeks off. Tomato face

Weeks 3 & 4 saw the average come down to 5:40min/k... at the time, I didn't see the progress. But it only took one magical morning to change my perspective on things. The one morning BOTH of my friends bailed, and I had to put on my big girl panties and go alone. I busted out 11.2km in 58 minutes. For those of you playing at home... that's a 5:12min/k average. I was shocked, and stunned, and pretty F***ing excited ... I was 'back on the unicorn'.

Weeks 5 & 6 was a mixed bag. 5 went ok, 6 went down the shitter. Probably around the time I had chewed through the last of my iron stores. I'd been on iron supplements since before TuM, but during my 6 weeks off... I stopped taking them, and didn't start again. I don't know what I was expecting to happen when I did start running again. Idiot. Anyways, its taken about 6 weeks for my iron to get low... so I'm back taking those little demon pills religiously.

Here's me at the end of 6km at Hunua. Vomit.

Now that I've counted it out... I've been back running 7 weeks. 7 weeks of genuinely hard work, that I very rarely enjoyed. I'm still struggling and its not easy. Someone made a comment on Saturday that I didn't look like I was enjoying myself. Its partly true, but mostly not. My heart is still in it, I just need something amazing to happen to boost my confidence. So if everyone can NOT turn up to the Speights Westcoaster, and just let me sail away with a win, that would do the trick. Thanks.

In exciting news, I went to an event! I turned up to the 21km Lactic Turkey Big O. I say 'turned up' because I had no intention of racing. Racing breaks things, and I'm taking the less is more approach these days. Racing is not only expensive, but it also takes a fairly hefty toll on me physically.
So to avoid 'racing' this weekend, I decided to wear a fairy dress. Lets face it, there is nothing less serious than a runner in a fairy dress.

I was really enjoyable to just go out and running, crawling and sliding my way through 27km (not 21km, thanks Shaun) of Rotorua's finest bush and trails. Coming into the camp at Okataina, there was a pack of about 4-5 of us. But having marched up 30 minute hill (the steep bastard out of Camp Okataina) a number of times, I didn't bother sifting through a soggy box of lollies, instead I took off knowing I had 30 minutes to stuff my face going up the hill (That was my only real 'race' moment of the day) When I say stuff my face, I mean 1 gel and a chomp which I dropped but deemed still edible.
Have you ever noticed the MASSIVE trees through that section of bush? I never have. Its amazing how much more you see when you're not having a shit fit. After that section was a short bit of bush bashing, where I took a good slip. The fairy dress held up remarkably well in mud. I popped out on to rolley polley farm, which was pretty slow going, at times impossible to see the white markers through white mist. Maybe a different coloured mist would work better next time, perhaps paint the sheep too because I did mistake one for a flag.
I passed an unhappy runner at this point, I didn't want to seem too cheery, because that is my pet peeve. I hate people rubbing it in my face when they're having a good race, and you're having a mole. So I just agreed that it sucked being out there longer, and left him to it.
I ran out of fuel. I was packed for 21... not 27. I wasn't in danger of starving (that's why I keep my layer of endurance fat ;-)) but I certainly wasn't running at optimum levels. I was happy to fall over the final gate and head to the finish. I trotted through in 3:53, it was the first time I'd finished a race with plenty of energy left to burn. I guess that happens when you don't go out and smash yourself. I didn't cry, I didn't grump, I just got shit done.

One thumb up for the Big O, didn't really appreciate those extra kms sorry! I personally liked last years course better, nothing better than seeing your mates throughout a race.

Long runs give you lots of time to think about things. Quite often I'll never remember what I thought about though. I did however have a good deep and meaningful with myself on Saturday and have tried to realign my attitude towards running. I often take things to heart, and get a bit worked up over it. Me, getting emotional, weird right?  So I intend to stop reading too much into what certain people say, as they really have no idea what is discussed between my coach and I. Everything I do in training and racing is according to what I've been told, that excludes meltdowns, James is not an advocate for those. But basically, there is no right or wrong way. The other part is patience. I have less patience then I do iron. I sort of think I'm like the runt of the litter. I'm not quite ready to go and play with the big kids all of the time, but the big kids try and talk me into doing silly shit anyway... FOMO kicks in, then boom, injured and a big fat 'I told you so' from the boss. In the big scheme of things, I'm only a newbie at this running shenanigans, not even 2 full years, so all of you grown ups, stop leading me astray ;-) My other thoughts included what was for dinner, deciding that cleaning my running shoes is the most annoying part about running and I really wanted some Wendy's chilli. I wondered where the Hairy Fairy was, and if my Dad was getting bored waiting for me, I thought about what to do for Christmas, and who would look after Charlie Cat if I went on a holiday. Told you I got a lot of thinking done.

Right, rant and blog over.
I'm off to keep Keith Crook company while we take our bikes for a walk. We ride them sometimes. But mostly just gossip and fix the world.

Lets touch base in a few months ok?

Love yourself.

Leah.

Fit to fat in 6 weeks. Seems a bit over the top right? well its not. 

I refuse to step on the scales,  because I believe the number is irrelevant and it will send me into a downwards spiral. But I can assure you however, that something has shifted. 

For those who know me well, you will be aware that I am a shadow of my former self. I have been 106.8kg in my lifetime. In the last 6 months or so, I managed to convince myself that I was getting leaner and my fitness was better than ever, I was enjoying being comfortable in my own lilly white skin. 

So where has this 'Fit to Fat' rant come from? let me explain with the key points:

March - Tarawera Ultra Marathon

The biggest race of the year. Moderate levels of pudgy. But I worked my ass off to get there, and I was as ready as I could have been.

Mid April - Back into running, building back up to fitness after a mental and physical break post TuM

The final downhill at the Wild Turkey

May - Running 80-100 of non specific kms every weeks. Running free, running happy.

I stopped holding back on food, I ate more and cared less, started having protein shakes religiously after all runs, took my iron pills every day and took my magnesium pills every day. Pretty much fuelled the machine so it could do what it had to. 

June - I was pretty lean by my standards and I was fit. I was happy.

Finishing at Xterra Riverhead

June 15th - Lactic Turkey Double Rainbow 46km. Trouble begins.

As cruel as it sounds, I wish I'd never done it. 4 x silly hikes up that stupid mountain.

The week following I was nursing a strained hamstring. But still running. And what happens when you run with one sore leg boys and girls? ... That's right, you make the other one work harder. 

Finishing the Lactic Turkey Double Rainbow (never again)

End of June / early July - 1 x Angry I.T Band. 38 minutes seemed to be the magic time frame before I had to stop. We tried a few short runs a week, a few days of 2x 30min runs, more rest days than run days. This went on for 3 weeks. Nothing improved. 

Finishing the Xterra Waiuku with an angry I.T band

Mid/Late July - I cried, and threw in the towel, I quit. No more. 

If i thought 3 weeks of barely running was rough, 3 weeks of no running was going to be torture.

And it was. 

I cried, at least 3 times a week. I got angry, mainly at Phill (my lover/bit on the side/boy toy/ Fiancee`) and James (my poor coach). And I ate. My appetite came back, and I ate everything. If Whitaker's was selling shares, I would have told you to invest. 

I've tried to keep active during this down time, mainly just using my brain. I think about going to the gym, I think about going aqua jogging, I think about going for a bike ride, and I think up excuses not to do any of those things. The latter is by far my biggest achievement. 

Want to hear my excuses? sure you do.

1) The gym is dumb. I don't like being inside. I don't like the gym goers. I don't like doof doof music. I feel fat.

2) I fucking hate aqua jogging. I still smell like Chlorine even after a double rinse cycle in the shower. My throat remains sore until I don't go aqua jogging. I look fat in my togs. I have to shave everything. I sometimes have no one to go with. I have more towels to wash. I look fat in my togs.

3) Cycling in front of the T.V is boring as hell. Even while Rachel Ray is making her 29th variation of chili. The cat is scared of the wind trainer. I fall off bikes. The tights emphasise my flabby thighs. I can't work the gears. Traffic is scary. Riding down hill is scary. My hands get sore. Riding a bike during a group run is like putting salt in your coffee, its just wrong..

So 6 weeks of basically nothing, and I've transformed from a happy runner to a flabby emotional couch potato. I have gone back to changing outfits 7 times before I leave home because this one makes my look fat, or this one makes my muffin tops extra huge. 

I've tried to keep positive, embrace the rest period, but its so hard to encourage all my running buddies when I really just want to kick them in the knees and tell them to stop running and wait for me to get better. Its not FOMO, its IDWTBLB (I don't want to be left behind). I worked so hard to get to where I was, and having to just stop is balls. It might seem like I'm a bit soft perhaps, but I have to remind myself how long I've been running (just over 18 months). Compare this to a majority of the company I keep, there is no reason why I should be frustrated when my recovery from injury and more importantly, long hard races, is twice that of a seasoned runner. With that being said, my interested in running the 60k at Xterra Waihi and the Westcoaster Marathon has officially been withdrawn, in favour of keeping some reserves in the tank for a solid block of training over summer when I'm off work. 

Now what? 

I've been for two 5km runs over the weekend and I can hardly walk today! One of those was a short and sharp 5k at the Waharau Xterra race. I still managed (7th out of 70 odd females)... for someone who has smashed 3 bags of Dorito's, 2 blocks of chocolate, 1 bottle of rum, at least 8 bottles of wine, and countless other empty calories over the last 6 weeks, I'm pretty happy. 

I'll tentatively say I am back on horse. Maybe just a pony for now, ooh no, a unicorn! I unfortunately foresee more aqua jogging for the next little while. Someone has to make sure the new resident cripple, Keith Crook (Merman), doesn't drown! 

 

James suggested I go reverse now, Fat to Fit in 6 weeks. I say challenge accepted. 

Partly because keeping James happy is in the top 25% of my priorities list, but mainly because I ordered a wedding dress in my 'running' measurements, not my 6 weeks flab fest measurements. 

6 weeks on a diet and sobriety rampage can only end two ways. 

1) half cut and in the confectionery aisle at Countdown

2) Back in the top quarter of any race I enter. Might seem like an average goal, but for someone who last year consistently finished below the middle of the pack, top quarter is pretty exciting!

I hope to be fighting fit for the Lactic Turkey - Big O on September 21st.

Thanks to my running buddies for coming aquajogging, and not rubbing it in that you can run and I can't. And to another new friend for a stern online talking to, offering some good advice which couldn't have come from anyone else because they wouldn't understand, I may have cried hysterically but I needed it!

Right... off to have some carrots and 10 gallons of water. 

(side note - I once ate so many carrots I turned orange)