Far far away

25km? It's a long way. It was hard and my legs hurt. But it wasn't desperately unpleasant. A little bit scary when I misjudged the time and was running in the dark along a very empty dirt road with ditches on either side. A little bit painful when I caught my foot on an uneven footpath and went down ooof in a literally breathtaking trip, fortunately with no ill-effects other than an impressive subdural haematoma - Noddie's favourite new phrase. That child is a worry. A little bit disheartening as it took FOR-F#$%ING EVER and I have to go 17km further in ten weeks' time. It was a little bit encouraging, as I felt that I could have kept up the effort for quite a bit longer. I stuck to a 4:1 run:walk schedule the whole way and it worked very well, until 2k from home I was so cold and it was so dark and windy and I wanted to be back with the Spousal Unit and Noddie so much that I just kept on going. I'm versatile like that, you see.
It's interesting to be a person who can run 25km. Quite unexpected. My brain is a bit trashed though, and I have to study. Awkward.More anon, troupers!

Yesterday

Oh, the plans I had made! At my pace, marathon training requires a significant time investment which in turn requires significant planning to fit in with The Real World. But it was all set. It was all going to go like clockwork. The sinus-taming drugs were going to kick in so I got a good night's sleep for a f#$%ing change o HOW I hate my sinuses AND germy five year olds coughing on me serves me right for helping Noddie's grade with their reading and I was going to get up super-early and get The Long Run run done as per The Schedule before the Spousal Unit had to leave for work. My gear was set out and my blister-prone toe was taped ....and then.....
the neighbours had a party that kept us awake all night and I'm talking all night as in they finally turned the music off at 7 a.m. I kept thinking it must be going to stop soon - and the music would get softer and I'd fall asleep...and then half an hour later it'd all start again. Le sigh.... I ended up 'sleeping', with a pillow on my head, until 6.30 - well after my planned departure time. I. Was. Livid. Thank goodness for earl grey tea. I also had the opportunity to tear (polite) strips off one of the party survivors/hosts who was sitting blearily in the open garage as I went off for a short run. His apology appeared sincere. Then Noddie and I had a grand afternoon at the footy with my sister watching Brad Johnson break the club games record. Woof woof woof!So instead of The Long Run fitting neatly into the wee small hours of Saturday, I'm now having to shoehorn it into either this afternoon/evening so I can study all day tomorrow Hi Spousal Unit, I know you've been working since 7am but now you're home I'm disappearing off down the road for the next three hours and leaving you with Noddie , or early tomorrow morning Hi Spousal Unit, I know you've been working since 7am but now you're home I'm disappearing into the study for the next three hours and leaving you with Noddie, and by the way you're walking her to school tomorrow while I disappear off down the road. He's a treasure, isn't he?
I'll be back in a couple of days to let you know how running 25km feels....
More anon, priority-jugglers!

That went ok.

Just so you don't think I spend my entire time running in a cheerful daze of happy energy and positive thinking
Last Sunday morning I ran 23km. It went ok, if by "ok" you mean "for the last 12km it was brutal and I wanted to die or at least curl up into a ball and cry". Maaaaaate.

The morning started off ok (really ok, not "kill me now" ok); the alarm went off and I got up, I got out the door without waking anyone up and with everything I needed (and as the legendary Wes has pointed out, how simple is it to pack for a run as compared to a tri? Thermos, blister-tape, safety pins, gels and you're off!), and with enough time to stop at the ATM for cash and get a sensational park right near the start. It was a lovely morning and Princes Park was a picture, all charming families in the playgrounds and delightful dogs on the ovals. The lovely Mrs W was in attendance so we decided to set off together on the four-and-a-bit lap course, sticking to a 9:1 run:walk. Poor Mrs W had been having a rotten weekend and in my opinion was jolly gutsy to have shown up. I won't reveal any details, but teenagers suck! We spent the first couple of laps bitching about kids and weight and husbands and being slow and other tiresome things, and of course waving to other CR people as they flashed by.This is clearly very early on as I am smiling and lifting at least one foot. Mrs W is to the right

Then Mrs W's knee got nasty and she shooed me off while she walked a bit. I continued with my 9:1 and gel schedule, around and around the park. I have to tell you, it got hard faster than it usually does. I don't usually mind skinnyfasts being twice as fast as I am - what would be the point? It's true whether I mind or not! - but today all the hateful voices were on the attack. Why do I bother? I hate this What's the point? I'm useless at this. Don't pat me or say things, you condescending fast bastards.
Please note: I know these are my issues and completely divorced from reality. Every single CR I have met is a treasure and a fountain of encouragement. And as soon as I stop running I know this.
It hurt, too. It hurt a lot more than running even a pretty long way usually does. Don't start on me, you marathoners and ultrarunners - I know it's not far at all in the grand scheme of things, but Get A Grip! Running for nearly three hours Is Not Normal. Ask anyone.
But I digress. Back to my hard day cause this is all about me. My legs hurt, my hips hurt, my glutes hurt...and then there were the 'rises' (I know they weren't hills, but by crikey they felt like it by the fourth lap). I stuck grimly to 9:1. If the number on my watch had 0 at the end, I walked. If not, I ran. It was impossible to stay positive. It would have been irrational to stay positive! When I tried to tell myself don't worry, this is fine, the rational part of my brain replied what a lot of cr@p! It is NOT fine! What could I say to myself? How could I get my head around the unpleasantness of it all and keep going? I was hating everyone and everything - all the fast people, the charming volunteers at the water station with no water, and myself for my slow weak legs and every stupid decision that had let to every extra kilogram that I was lugging around this boring stupid course.
What could I do? How could I keep going?
I kept going by deciding it was okay. Okay is not fine. Okay is not comfortable. However, okay is bearable. Okay is calm.
My head became a wilderness, a desert of despair-avoidance. If I thought about how hard it was, I was lost. Songs saved me, signs saved me, beautiful winter trees saved me. The world was about pretending the f#$% f#$% f#$% I f#$%ing hate this just wasn't there. My existence was about staying calm and keeping on going. When I could, I thought this is okay. I can keep this up. Hold your form. Think about your breathing. This is okay. I can keep this up. While I was running I kept thinking, you'll remember this on marathon day. There will be times like this on marathon day and now you know you can deal with them. This is okay. I can keep this up.
And it was okay and I did keep it up.The hardest part was trudging through the finishing chute and seeing all my CR friends chatting and laughing and knowing that I had 23km on The Schedule all hail The mighty Schedule! and I'd only done 21. Oh, how I wanted to stop running and go over to them. But I didn't. I ran to the 1km mark and back again. Most people I knew had gone home but I'd done what I said I would, and that's what mattered.
Then I had a pancake and a cup of tea and walked back to escort the mighty Mrs W to the line. She was finishing that run No Matter What, goddammit, and huge huge credit to her.Then I went home and had a sleep on the couch. Bliss.
When I woke up I had a filthy head cold. Mystery solved. Meh.

More anon, often lapped but never beaten!

Died and gone to heaven

Is it bad to have rice crackers and chardonnay for dinner?
It's been a wild week. Not terrible, but more taxing than most. I work as a crisis counsellor, which is always quite demanding but was made more so this week because of understaffing (temporary, arising from admin staff changeover teething problems), combined with a massive spike in call numbers as a result of a local tragedy. I went to a staff development meeting that I'm not obliged to attend and usually avoid because I have never liked discussing "what my soul needs to learn" or my "heart space" (not that these things are wrong - it's just that as a cranky, country-raised Anglo-Saxon Protestant, they aren't really me) and I usually come out feeling chewed up and spat out. As a dedicated optimist, I can only say that I've learned my lesson and henceforth will be giving it A Big Miss.
Through the are you sure it's not knock off time yet? filter, the callers seemed either desperately sad or completely unable to comprehend the notions of personal responsibility or courtesy. Then a colleague did something quite 'challenging' (aka f#%*ing rude and annoying). When I finally escaped after being on deck by myself for the last two hours, when there are usually four of us, a fruit truck had parked me in and I was going to be late picking up Noddie for her tap dancing lessons. There was nothing to do but laugh, and turn Suzi Q up LOUD. I'm a red hot fox and I can take the knocks....
The run I had after dinner was like a warm bath for my tired mind. Of course I didn't want to go - after dinner with the family and sitting on Noddie's soft warm bed reading stories mmmmmmm soft....warm..... the siren call of the recliner was strong. But I resisted! The run wasn't effortless or anything hahahaha effortless running, good one LBTEPA! - my feet, knees and hips behave as though they're completely unrelated to me or each other for at least the first 2km of every run - but it was just so nice to be out there, quite alone in the drizzle, just being my physical self. I puffed and sweated along and thought of nothing except how pretty it was with the haloes around the streetlights, and how much I liked my new tights and jacket, and of Noddie asleep in her bed and the Spousal Unit dozing in the recliner in the warm house waiting for me. I sang along to my music and felt perfectly happy.
I was going to write heaps more but it's Saturday morning already! So in a nutshell:
I ran 19km last Monday along the freeway bike trail. It was SO WINDY I could almost rest by leaning into it . I am SO GLAD I'm not training for anything that involves cycling outdoors in this GALE! Not that I am neglecting Minerva: I spend an hour or so a week on my bike trainer watching triathlon on the plasma, how utterly utterly lame, no?
I'm doing the Sri Chinmoy half marathon tomorrow with a couple of km tacked on beforehand to hit my scheduled 23km. I cannot believe I have turned into a person who would write that.
Uni has started back. I have 2000 words due in 3 weeks. I have to get cracking on the granny square rug I'm making for my friend's baby as it may be induced today! Noddie and the Spousal Unit have gone out and the house is clean because we all worked together to get it done. I think I may have died and gone to heaven. Now everyone, sing it with me! You know you want to!More anon, Wild Ones!

Sunday Seven

This is a shameless (yet lazy) ripoff of Misty's "Thursday Thirteen" because I've been meaning to blog all week. I do want to write a race report from the Gold Coast half at some stage, but when it came time to write this week I just faffed around with other things until I ran out of time.
So without further ado
1. I'm in a much better place mentally about training and race goals than I was last year. I had three days off this week because I had gastro ewww and a headcold, and I was able to sit with that and say, oh well, these things happen rather than beating myself up about how a) it must have been my fault and b) my marathon was now doomed beyond all redemption. People have commented on this blog imagine how well you could do if you had uninterrupted training! Oh my, how marvellous would that be? But at the moment I seem to get sick a lot, there's a lot of stuff going around, I work in an open-plan, air-conditioned office and I hang around with a five year old germ-magnet. I think what I actually have to do is imagine how well I can do with interrupted training!
I can't imagine finishing a marathon. I can imagine resting and sleeping when I'm sick so I get better sooner. I can imagine missing sessions when uni and family demands take priority. I can imagine keeping at my training program as best I can. I can imagine showing up on race day feeling sick with apprehension because I'm old/fat/underdone etc etc, and keeping on going until I finish no matter how long it takes. And you know what? All of that's perfectly ok by me!
2. I had almost the perfect day today. I got off my disorganised behind and did my bike trainer session before the longest and possibly least interesting church service in living memory I can't be sure I think I nodded off at one stage. After lunch we played everlasting snakes and ladders, then I listened to the footy on the radio and crocheted the granny square rug I'm making for my friend's baby. It was a really thrilling game that didn't involve my team, who won this weekend, yay! Then we had a roast for dinner and J and Noddie watched Merlin.
3. The Ferguson Plarre Boston Bun J brought home for afternoon tea was the closest thing to perfection I have eaten in many a long year.
4. I may never eat Boston Bun again.
5.You remember I was dreadfully upset because I messed up an exam and thought I might fail a subject? I got 75! Even when I checked the web page several times! I haven't stopped grinning.
6. No-one will ever listen to my exam bleating again. The Spousal Unit says he never does anyway, the beast LOL.
7. After watching the master roster at work like a hawk, I snapped up the shift I've been wanting for months. Life will be much simpler to organise now, hoorah!
Here are a couple of photos from our holiday, to prove how much effort I put into having An Excellent Time. Someone has to take it for the team :P
More anon, wearers of rose-tinted spectacles!

Jiggety jig

We're home again, we're unpacked and the washing is done. The inlaws killed my goldfish and I'm regretting not doing the vacuuming before we left.
I ran the half marathon 7 minutes faster than last week (2.35.00), hurrah! The post-race rehydration session with my over-excited running mates was the model of decorum and restraint you would expect. Now that Noddie the daredevil is tall enough, we hammered the SCARY rides at the amusement parks, enjoyed looking at sealions, dolphins, sharks and cassowaries and patting kangaroos, wallabies and emus. I'm never eating anything fried ever again. It was a top holiday!
On the principle that no photos = did not happen, here is race day.

Nearly there...

I might have to buy this one - but not the dvd of my finish, I look like a clockwork toy! Have I always had such a peculiar gait?J and Noddie sprinting to the finish of the Junior Dash!The bling girls.

More bling girls - including my partner in marathon lunacy Mrs W (centre) and the mighty Emma, just finished running her first full marathon! Too old? Too fat? Not good enough? Too scared? Too much 'real life' to manage? We don't think so!

More anon, demon-slayers!

Not too bad, considering

Race report: Run Melbourne Half Marathon
Time: 2.42.43 (PW)
Rating: pleased(ish)

This is really really long so I have divided it into sections so when you have to go for a cuppa or a loo break you'll know where you were up to.
The run was really really long too. I think this could be my Personal Worst time. I was briefly upset by that but am over it now. I can run for nearly three hours on bloodymindedness and a bling-fixation, and that's good! I am That Person!

As my five faithful readers know, my preparation for this run has been less than ideal - but if I only did things I was super-well prepared for and had a chance of excelling at I'd spend a LOT of time at home. I felt like doing it, I knew I could do it, so I did. And despite still walking like the Tin Man two days later, I'm glad I did. It was a good day.
Apart from the absence of any consistent training, which I think I may have mentioned, everything leading up to the run went perfectly. I hydrated and carbed up on Saturday and did my race nails in time for an early night. The alarm went off, I remembered to get petrol and got a free park about 1.5km from the start. Score! Last year the bag dropoff was an absolute schemozzle - everyone's bags were all in one spot, in the rain, so when the slow half-marathoners fought their freezing way to the front of the bag scrum, all our stuff was wet - so I was very happy to literally walk into the half-marathon bag area while I was looking for it. Score again! I was in the last wave so there was plenty of time to use the rather nice facilities at Fed Square and amble up to the start. The weather was perfect too - still, quite cold and foggy at first, clearing to a gorgeous fine morning that never got too hot for my long sleeves. I took a bit of a risk wearing the runners I bought on Friday but they were really comfortable. Triple score! I couldn't find my friend Mrs W, who is about my speed, so I was worried she'd caught her husband's cold and hadn't been able to start. I never feel excited before a race, just a bit sick usually about what a stupid idea this was and how I shouldn't bother because I'm so slow/unfit/lardy. I shuffled along under the arch (which I belive fell down on the 5km runners!) trying to wish some energy into my legs but finding very little. Seeing as this run was all about the medal and the pain, not the time, when I caught up with some friends halfway up the Shrine Hill I decided to walk to the top with them. It was time to HTFU and start running so I set off, with Z bounding irritatingly ahead of me like a demented kangaroo.
1-7KM
I quite enjoyed the first lap in the way you do when you know you're going to PAY for it later. There were bands playing and there was plenty of room along the river path, around the Tennis Centre and over the skybridge to the MCG because the 10km hadn't started.

I know a lot of people didn't like the spiralling course that took us twice around the MCG (twice each lap = four times = lots of MCG for those not so inclined) but I always like looking at the statues,

and the 'Passout here' sign near Gate one amused me no end. I caught up with Mrs W around the 'G too - she was having a rough day but soldiered on to within about five minutes of her PB. You're a legend, Mrs W!
When I thought about the next time I'll be running around the MCG I just grinned like an idiot.
7-11KM
The lap around the upper concourse was flat, too, unlike any other bloody part of the course. Don't think that's the worst word I used about the oh-so-gradual but never-bloody-ending rise through the park around the stadium either. I was still feeling pretty strong along Wellington Parade, even up the little hill to Flinders St. I stuck to my 9:1 run:walk all the way. It got really lonely really fast, though, after I passed the 'first lap, straight ahead, second lap turn left' sign and headed toward Federation Square and my second loop. Z was walking quite a bit now and we'd chat briefly as he got his breath back and then took off again. He told me later he hadn't eaten breakfast - ah, the foolishness of youth! No wonder he looked so crook.
11-18KM
We had our own lane alongside the thousands and thousands of 10k runners lining up. It seemed to take a long time to get past them. Off up the Shrine hill again I went. It was very quiet and I was starting to feel tired. Josh Grogan carried me this time - "you raise me up" came on the earphones and I cranked it up loud and played it again and kept to my 9:1 until I got almost to the top of Anderson St again. Then I said a rude word to myself and walked the last steep bit. I was having the run I'd earned and it was pretty much as hard as I thought it would be, dammit.
By the time I reached Olympic Park for the second time the 10 km elites were well gone and the pace packs were thundering by. The 40 minute 10k-ers run almost twice as fast as I do. Pack after pack streamed past. It was quite unsettling. I literally retreated into myself to shut out the noise and the stupid wash of shame. It doesn't matter how slow you are. It doesn't matter. You're going to finish another half marathon today. Hold your form and slow down.
Running over the skybridge with a thousand of your closest mates is a hoot! The concrete wobbles and bounces and your legs are still a bit confused when you stagger off for another spin around the MCG. I still liked the statues and managed to laugh at the "passout here" sign again, but going down along Brunton avenue and around past all the food vans mmmm....doughnuts.... and back toward the oh-f#$%-not-again rise through the gardens I really started to crack the sads. I hurt. It was only 3km to go but it still seemed a long way.
18-21KM
Around this time a very interesting and helpful thought occured to me. I was running along, arguing with myself, as you do, about whether anything bad would happen or I would be a hopeless worthless lazypants if I walked up a bit of the hill. This really hurts, I thought to myself. I hate this. Then I thought, hang on - that second sentence doesn't necessarily have to follow the first. It hurts - oh yes it does, no denying that. It hurts like billy-oh. But I don't have to hate it. It can just be something that is, rather than something that p!$$#s me off. Hmmmmmm. Following this train of thought passed a couple of painful uphill minutes, but oh how happy I was to take the sharp left along Wellington St. Downhill at last! I caught up with Z again and we cheered each other up talking about what we were listening to - he was bopping to the sex p1stols (he's very young) and I was steaming along to I don't care what you think as long as it's about me - the best of us can find happiness in misery...I love it when the ipod fairy delivers. Past the Hilton and the Flagstaff gardens, past the Brunton Avenue underpass...not far now. Oh, I was hurting, yes I was. A bloke was just about to take down the 20km sign so I yelled at him to just leave it where it was until we went past. We earned that sign! Up up up the very last hill we trundled. There was no way I was stopping now. I was so grateful that Z was there distracting me with his puffed-out attempts at cheery remarks and his annoying bouncy stride. Misery shared is misery halved.Another sharp left and then a lovely lovely downhill again, across the tram tracks and to the last corner.Z (centre)is looking keen - I'm grandstanding on the right
I knew the finish was not far away, and damn I was ready to stop. I called to Z to go go go and he bounded away (21-year-old legs, they can do that), and finally I ran over the mat. I could stop. That was another very good moment.
A very nice young lady cut off my shoe tag - there wasn't going to be any bending down done by me, no no no no. Another charming individual gave me the cool medal. I lurched through the showbag area but somehow failed to acquire anything except a small bottle of a very peculiar drink, I think called an oxy-shot? Opinion: bleh!
In lieu of standing up, I draped myself over the finishing chute fence to cheer in Mrs W, who finished strong and smiling as always. I was just contemplating the long walk up to the bags when Noddie and the Spousal Unit showed up! What a lovely surprise! I was so happy to see them, especially because I wouldn't have to drive home and could partake of a hard-earned sherbet with the CR crew. I love being around people who think it's a top idea to gut out an underprepared 21.1km on a cold winter morning and then yap on about it at length. Just one thing though: to the skinnyfast CR who remarked in a surprised voice "You look really tired" - just because I took twice as long as you doesn't mean I didn't work as hard as you. Effort and speed are not correlated. So there.
The afternoon was a pleasant blur of ice-bath, lunch, a nap and sitting by the heater with my feet up watching my Bulldogs win. I didn't buy a race shirt, but I haven't taken off my medal either. As I said to the Spousal Unit, there's something about running 21km very slowly that puts you in a very good mood.
Goodness knows how I'll go on the Gold Coast this weekend. I'll start, I'll finish, I'll get a medal and I'll have a drink or several with Mrs W to celebrate our victories over our sworn enemies Old, Fat, Slow, Real Life, Fear and Doubt.
Life is all about celebrating, my friends
More anon, conquerers!

Mendacity

It's very very important to never ever blog at 4 a.m., unless of course you're just home from an awesome night out and want to share your exuberant delight at your experiences with the world, in which case your writing would most likely be a) utterly incomprehensible and b) unintentionally hilarious. The majority of the time, 4 a.m. blogging would go something like this: why why why did the Spousal Unit bring home wine and chips and chocolate when he knows I'm trying to shed this hideous lard? He's trying to sabotage me, oh woe! Why why why did I not calmly refuse to partake of those instruments of Satan? I'm so weak! Oh woe! And my hip hurts. I'll never be able to finish on Sunday and I'll probably get injured and won't be able to do the Gold Coast now and that will mean I won't be able to run in October. Oh woe! Why why why didn't I get on the foam roller and loosen up? Hang on, I did use the roller. And I did my pushups and situps. My nose is itchy. I can't sleep. J's snoring away like a combine harvester. It's not fair. Zzzzzzz.
Fast forward three hours. I got up, hopped on the scales because it was weekly weigh day - and had (supposedly) gained 2.5kg!! In a week!!!! WTF???
Luckily my daylight self laughs with scorn at the mendacity of the evil lying bastard scales and went straight to the wardrobe to try on the litmus-test garment - the red dress I bought at Christmas that was a leeetle bit snug, and that next Christmas WILL be a trifle large.
It's perfect. Even a little bit loose. *makes vulgar gesture* take that, scales!
Friday was one of those red-letter days I get a couple of times a year. Noddie was at school for the last day of term and my exams are over so my time was all my own. Bliss! I bought some new runners, at half price!! Woot!! ....and then the shopping gods really smiled. Sunbeams broke through the clouds. Choirs of angels sang. The only pair of purple cowboy boots with stripey linings in the whole shop were marked down by 80% and in my size!
*fans self at the recollection*
Then I lunched with a dear (and always truthful) fashionista friend, who complimented my haircut. The morals of the story? Everything passes, good friends are precious, and sometimes the universe just wants you to have great shoes.
I don't really know why, but I'm quite looking forward to tomorrow's half marathon. I like the race slogan. I might buy a shirt. More anon, twinkle toes!

Today I...

- really REALLY f#$*ed up about a third of my exam. I don't know why I didn't answer the question when I knew the answer , I just DIDN'T. STUPID STUPID STUPID. I blame the F@mily F1rst people.
- had an utterly hideous 'fix-up' haircut which at least looks misguided as opposed to incompetent.
- failed to purchase a pair of jeans to flatter my obviously grotesque posterior
- bought some ugly sunglasses
- HATE EVERYONENoddie and I went down to the creek in the dark for an Adventure Picnic dinner. We had fun.
More anon, riders on life's roller-coaster.

The good stuff

O my word I got a hit of the good stuff on Friday night when the Melbourne Coolrunners took over Chloe's Bar at Y&J's. I spent the evening talking and talking and TALKING about running, running and more running and clothes and boys and what our friends have been up to and what we think of their boys and clothes with my back-of-the-pack, 8min/kms on a good day, dunno why we do this when we're so bad at it but by crikey we're doing it anyway girlfriends. My soul sisters. The magnificent B and the mighty W. The gorgeous M, so inspiring and full of big dreams that she's an honorary slow-and-steady soul sister, despite knocking off four-hour marathons and ultras like they were walks to the shop. How I love and admire them. How I grin when I think about them! Spending the evening with these fine fun women was like a 3pm diet coke on a warm day - I'm all revved up again!Having discussed it at length (and volume) with my partners in crime, it is time to announce My Next Big Plan. Now the Plan Is This: on October 11th 2009 I will finish my first marathon. I don't care if there's an only an electric clock on a folding chair left when I run into the MCG one hundred and eleven days from now. B, W and I WILL be marathoners. Don't think this is an excitement and champagne fuelled bit of impetuosity, either, no no no no noooo. Last year at the Gold Coast half marathon post race, er, rehydration session, B and I pledged that 2009 would be Our Year. Of course when I sobered up I started qualifying that statement - I'll do it if it fits in with Noddie being at school and my studies, I'll do it if I don't get injured etc etc etc. But the idea flickered on. Spending yet another MM day in the cheer squad with the indomitable W last year fed the little flame. Having ODTAA* happen over and over and over again this winter so my two half marathons will just be long slow runs fuelled it even more. I entered the day it opened. Carrying number 391 for 42.195km will be hard. It will take a long time. It will be GREAT.
By the way, please don't frown: yesterday, after I cheered myself up immensely about the upcoming halfs by cranking out 15 slow km and then had an ice bath aaaaaahhhhhhh! but it did make a huge difference, I'm hardly stiff at all now, I studied for the whole afternoon. My exams are on Monday and Wednesday.
More anon, comrades!
*One Damn Thing After Another

That person

Just to say I'm writing this at work (which is ok, we're allowed) NOT when I'm supposed to be studying, which is coming along ok in a gosh I hope staring at a book and making notes facilitates recall, maybe I should put it under my pillow and hope it oozes into my brain by osmosis kind of way. I really appreciate all the encouragement I've received -thank you all so much ((hugs)). I've never been so underprepared in an academic situation before, but this is the Grown-Up World now and I'm not the centre of it so I just have to suck up the terror, keep working and make jolly sure this doesn't happen next semester.
A friend of mine at work commented that I was sounding much better after the departure of the stinking everlasting sinus infection. I replied, yes, I even went running last night without feeling as though I need a lung transplant. Wow, she said, you're so dedicated! I mumbled something about having races coming up and not wanting to die, as you do, but she persisted, saying no-one made you sign up to those races - that's dedicated! And then I thought, yes, it is. I am dedicated. I am dedicated to being physically strong and as healthy as I can manage. I am dedicated to becoming a person who can run (verrrrry slowly) for two or three hours. I want to be that person and I am prepared to impersonate her as long as I have to, even if that means heading out for a run at 8.30pm when the warm living room and the recliner seem infinitely more desirable, because that's when I have time.
It was a nice run. It was very cold and a bit foggy but that made it quiet and there were soft halos around the streetlights. I wore my heavier jersey with the flowers on it that I like, so I was warm and looked pretty. I was happy to be that person running in the misty dark. My friends, my friends - even if you don't really believe you can become who you want to be, plug away at it. Dedicate yourself to your dream. Be that person.
I had a #$%!@ #$%!@ #$% anaphylactic reaction when I got home. #$%!&* #$%&* #$%!&*!!! I got onto it quickly so I didn't have to use my epi-pen or go to hospital, but I will have to go back and see my allergy specialist. We'll be Having Words. I thought this was fixed for good so I'm a bit upset about it. Even more than the HORRIBLE itching and looking like the elephant man for a couple of days until the swelling subsides, I hate the Spousal Unit and Noddie worrying when I go out.In other news, I can't work out whether the impulsive haircut I had yesterday is the zenith of a lifetime of follicular butchery or rather cool. Time will tell.

More anon, rainbow chasers!

Repeat after me...

LBTEPA, STOP MUCKING AROUND ON YOUR BLOG AND DO SOME MORE STUDY!
YOU CAN DO THIS! JUST KEEP GOING!
You'll pass if you keep working.
You'll keep dropping weight if you stay cheerful and drink lots of water.
Try not to worry about those half-marathons too much. They won't be how you wanted them to be. You'll be ok, though.

Snakes and Ladders

Snake - another go-around with the crook-as-a-dog fairy. No more phlegm remarks though, I'm working on being more phlegmatic hahahaha I'm soooo funny
Ladder - at last it's been diagnosed as an infection so I can have some DRUGS and finally GET PROPERLY BETTER after five #%$ing weeks *bangs head on desk in frustration*

Snake - my longest run before Run Melbourne will be 13km, if the drugs work
Ladder - my recent training slogfests mean I am very well practiced at just keeping on going. Three hours? No problem! Le sigh...

Snake - the likelihood of a PB for either Run Melbourne or the Gold Coast with this trashed training is infinitesimal *gnashes teeth in disappointment, fakes plucky grin*
Ladder - race entries are expensive. By going very slowly I will be really getting my money's worth. I get bling anyway.
Snake - my knees were really hurting during my 'long' hahahaha run on Sunday - WTF? Since when do my knees hurt?

Ladder - a few painful minutes reacquainting myself with my foam roller ow ow ow ow and I was right as rain.

Snake - Noddie has been waking up a lot at night = Mummy hasn't had an unbroken night's sleep for a week

Ladder - feeling jetlagged without leaving home is kind of amusing, and after my epic 4am dummy-spit the other night she's been much better about not calling out.

Snake - my exams are in a week and a half and I've only just started revising

Ladder - ummmmm.........I'll need to make a progress chart! Yay for charts!Ladder - the Self-Efficacy Chart has been a great success. I've reminded myself that I can make positive changes even when life's path seems a trifle rocky. I've had five AFDs in a row for three weeks, got back into the habit of drinking lots of water and shed almost 2kg *beams*
It's been freezing here this week, which would seem to be a snake but is actually a ladder, providing as it does the the opportunity to wear my fabulous hot pink raincoat. It's all in how you look at it, daaahlings.......
More anon, stylish ruggers-up!

FFTB

WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS GRAPHIC PHLEGM-RELATED COMMENTS
My most excellent and humorous brother sent me this. I use it ALL THE TIME. Help yourself!
Now that Noddie is sleeping all night again instead of coughing herself sick every two hours, and I am no longer hacking up stuff with which you could cement a keystone*, regular blogging should resume shortly. I just need to catch up on a bit of reading, revise for my exams EEEK!, and whip up a couple of dresses for myself Noddie, because I said I would even though I was running a temperature at the time. And I want a new dress. There's also the matter of two half-marathons coming up in HOLY CRAP THAT SOON? weeks to be panicking about. There was nothing I could do when I was sick except rest, but now it's knee-and-hip nurturin', booze-forswearin' and good ol' sweatin' it out on the road time. Good times, busy times, scary times.....
In a beautiful segue if I do say so myself, here is my new motto.

This windcheater was was the only one my size in the chickybabe shop. It was also on the window mannequin, so I smiled politely at the shop assistant and leaned on the counter in an I'm old and stubborn and won't go away until you give me what I want way until she let me have it. I shall wear it always.

More anon, heel diggers-in!
* I did warn you

Warning! Warning!

WARNING TO MY FIVE FAITHFUL READERS: THIS POST WILL BE UTTERLY INCOMPREHENSIBLE TO WELL-ADJUSTED PERSONS
FURTHER WARNING: PHLEGM IS MENTIONED IN THIS POST
I was passing the time earlier this week coughing hoarsely, skulling paracetomol and worrying about exams and half marathons, as you do. All at once I said to myself, LBTEPA I said, what would the world be like if
- I got severe viral laryngitis too much fun, I can't even begin to describe it, and such a fun word to say, although I can't actually say it - oh the irony! NOT because I'm careless and lazy and drink too much, but because there are a lot of fearsome bugs going around our office and Noddie's school?
- and what if I was off colour for two weeks beforehand NOT because I'm always getting sick, but because I'm quite healthy and strong and it takes a really fearsome bug to topple me?
What would happen if I challenged this unhelpful and inaccurate belief that I get sick because I'm weak and incompetent? What if I understand that getting sick isn't my fault? What if I take the credit for my health-enhancing behaviours instead of blaming myself for not being bullet-proof?
Oooooh! Now there's a thought. Thanks, A.T.B. You're the best.
My five faithful readers will be happy to know that following this train of thought has resulted in my feeling better already, despite the fact that I'm wildly jealous of the Spousal Unit coughing up quantities of yellow (bacterial) gunk, not green (viral) like mine, so he gets antibiotics and I don't so I just have to suffer. DON'T SAY YOU WEREN'T WARNED.
Then I asked myself another question. I said to myself, LBTEPA I said, what do you need?
The answer popped into my head at once: I NEED A WIN.
But what is a win? What would a win look like?
A win would be making a plan, any plan, and sticking to it. That would be a win and that would make me feel happy.
Why would that make you happy?
I'd feel less at the mercy of hormones and genetics and viruses. I'd know for sure again that I can do things.
Aha! LBTEPA looks about, startled, as the booming voice of a famous mid-20th-century psychologist echoes through the room. What you want, LBTEPA, is self-efficacy!
Albert, my friend, you are right. I do. So I made a chart (insert short pause while my five faithful readers feign surprise) . If I drink 5 glasses of water, refrain from the 4pm-6pm scoff-fest and go alcohol free for five consecutive days then I get 15 little smiley stars, a big proud grin and some momentum to make other changes. Bring. It. On. I have to go and have a sleep now before I pick up Noddie from school. She's been home with croup most of the week, poor little lambie. Stay tuned, though - the next post could well be about how rediscovering crochet changed my life.
More anon, improvement-seekers!

SS, DD

Nothing to see here ladies and gentlemen. Move along please. There's only the usual stuff going on, and nothing new to say about it except that my last bleat-fest has helped me unclench my teeth somewhat. Thanks for being so nice about it. You guys are lovely.
The Official Attitude du jour at Chateau LBTEPA is as follows: I'm doing my best. What happens, happens.
So what is happening?
- exams in four weeks? Tick!
- behind with uni reading? Tick!
- half-marathons in five and six weeks? Tick!
- everlasting headcold, along with everyone else in our office and at Noddie's school? Tick!
- not ticking all the training boxes on The Chart? Tick!
- eating and drinking more than is perhaps wise considering the above? Tick!
- deciding that for the moment worrying about my diet is a bit pointless and I should just relax about carting excess lard around? Tick!
- restricting housework to essentials such as clothes washing, cooking and wiping the bathroom so we don't get horrible diseases? Tick!
BTW I was at a school thing today and Noddie's teacher mentioned Noddie's impressive vocabulary. Suddenly I felt better about doing my nut about the messy house the other day and Noddie piping up "Mummy, what's squalor"? She also knows that scurvy is a disease she will get if she doesn't eat her veggies; in addition, Mummy will have to go on a six-thirty "current affairs" show and will never be able to show her face in the suburb again.
- all cranky, all the time? Stick to what you're good at, I say! Tick!
- counting my blessings? Tick!

More anon, seekers of cheerfulness. Look! cheerful food! Mmmmmmmmm!

Mustn't grumble

....therefore I have nothing to say.

There's nothing serious going wrong. Assignment #3 has been handed in. I was happy with it, and satisfied because I didn't know I could work so hard for so long. Now there's only weekly readings and exam preparation to do. Nice.
I'm just feeling run down and headcold-y and lardy and underdone and a big fat undisciplined loser. These things happen.
The biggest struggle I am having with my 'gotta be perfect' self is that I will be racing underdone in June and July Yes, yes, yes, I know I should be used to that by now. And I know these runs are a week apart. It may seem like a stupid idea, but when the wheels started to fall off the training/sensible eating wagon and a Gold Coast PB looked less and less likely, I thought, why not do them both? Don't get all logical on me. I had a good time last year at Run Melbourne, and the Half medals are really nice!
But now as I scoff echinacea and thank the GSD for saline sinus spray, every unticked box on my chart reproaches me. Well-adjusted LBTEPA (I don't know if you've met her; she's not about that much) reminds me that under the working-and-studying-wife-and-prep-mum circumstances I should be celebrating the ticks I do manage! Clearly some part of me thinks I should be perfect and do it all, all at once, with immaculate nails, single-digit body fat and a charming grin. I thought I'd given up being stupidly hard on myself. Must. Try. Harder. (hahaha at recovered perfectionist joke, geddit?).
The Spousal Unit reckons I find having just one worry (eg exams) much more worrying than having several (eg exams and back to back half marathons). Hmmmm.
Listen to me, self-critical LBTEPA: you WILL have a good time. You WILL finish. You WILL get bling.
You haven't trained as much as you wanted, you're eating and drinking a bit unwisely and you aren't the weight you'd like to be. What's new? You have a headcold. So? What happens, happens. We are not having a repeat of last winter's self-flagellating bleatfest. Life is good. You have many blessings. Have these feelings of doubt and fear and worthlessness, if you must, but hugging them to you will not make you any lighter or faster or fitter. Have them, and then LET THEM GO. Cheer the f#$% up.
More anon, darls. Slap a smile on your dial and sing it with me!

Happy Mother's Day

Dear Mum
Thanks for coming on the walk this morning. I hope we can celebrate Mother's Day with fresh air, exercise, and cool race bling for many more years.
If I can be half as inspiring to Noddie as you are to me, she'll be lucky.Happy Mother's Day.

Onward!

One monster assigmnent has hit the psych department inbox; one more to go, only one, just one more... I can keep this up...I CAN. Who needs sleep or daylight anyway?
You know those runs you have when you're just floating along, all balanced and happy and it all feels almost effortless? Yesterday's run was NOT one of them. "Lumbering" is the most apt simile to my progress that I can generate. I seem to be getting slower and slower. Sigh. Still, it was a nice big tick on my chart - and seeing as I have Things To Do in seven weeks, eight weeks and twenty weeks, the more of those cheery little beggars I get the better, no?
Mum and Noddie and I will celebrae Mothers' Day in Ballarat this year with a walk around the lake with my sister-in-law. My nephew is ten months old so it's her first MD.Note To Self: speak to brother so he does the Right Thing ie spoils her ROTTEN.
Further Note To Self: have brother mention this to Spousal Unit.
Ok *takes deep breath* just one more hour of study today, then I can hop on my bike trainer and see if Paula Radcliffe can win the New York marathon again before I pick up Noddie from after-school care.

Ruminations

I am NOT feeling overwhelmed, stupid, slow or fearful about the two 2,000 word assignments I have to pull out of the air by Wednesday week (and let's not even mention the amount of exercise I am not doing and how soon I have two half marathons to do), no no no nononooooo I AM NOT.
I am DETERMINED, yes, determined, that's the ticket! And DILIGENT. And ORGANISED. Yes. I even have a chart. It's come to that.
More anon, ploughers-through!