Too nervous for words

As you can see, much preparation is required for the not-average Very Slow Marathon. As a rule I don't take painkillers during a run, but the Bastard Sinuses must be tamed one last time. Nothing like (ahem) "profound" thoughts to distract me from 6 hours of WHYAMIDOINGTHISWTFWASITHINKING?

I'm guessing this 'consumed by pre-marathon dread to the point of speechlessness' is normal as it's been three out of three so far. GULP.

More anon, panic merchants!

Who are you?

I am, among other things, a wife, mum, daughter, sister, friend, endurance athlete, Bulldogs fan and psychologist. I live in the country and love it. I miss the city.
I like making things, except food. I like to decorate my surroundings. I believe that accessorising is what separates us from the lower animals. I wear hats to the races.
I dream big. I go after scary goals because life isn't about being half-arsed. I AM NOT BEIGE.
I am teetering on the pre-marathon dread/excitement see-saw. I'm feeling very (this post has been edited because it's wrong to diss your loved ones on the internet). But I'm going to have a good day because I've decided I will.

I'm an ebay and f&ceb00k tragic and a blogger. Apparently I have 16 "followers", some of whom are clearly very shy. I'm also a comment ho (and am feeling in need of some encouragment this week).

Now, mysterious ones, tell me who YOU are!

More panic-stricken pre-marathon ramblings anon

When small rather charming-looking birds ATTACK!

Please note: I did not fall off my bike. Or swear (Noddie was with me).

SSDD

Well firstly congratulations to my Magpie friends on the shellacking handed out by your boys to the Saints in the GF MkII. The Spousal Unit was working and I was at the races in a fab hat but I taped it so J could savour every moment of the crushing annihilation when he got home. What a good wife I am.Secondly, OMFG THIS TIME NEXT WEEK I'LL BE DOING MY THIRD MARATHON WTF WAS I THINKING I MUST BE INSANE WHY DO I KEEP DOING THIS?
I'm going up on the train the night before to stay with my crony in Stupid Determination, the magnificent Mrs Wombat. (this post has been edited becuase it's wrong to diss your loved ones on the internet)

Put these on

So. Dr Manage-Your-Own-Symptoms astonishingly believed me about how my sinuses are trying to eat their way out of my face. I'll be doing another marathon on antibiotics.
What a sentence! Another marathon means I've been lucky enough, been healthy enough, and had enough support to have two life-changing 42.2km days already. I've been inspired by kind and encouraging people, pissed off (= inspired in another way!) by others, and made lifelong friends with two awesome women.on antibiotics means I live in a country with freely available health care and safe affordable medicines.
I have to have surgery a week after the marathon means I'm lucky enough to be able to afford private health insurance, and have flexible enough work and a supportive enough family and friends to drop everything and Just Get It Done.
My last uni exam is two weeks after that means I have the ability - and the means - to pursue my vocation. You may be thinking that it would also be valuable to pursue the ability to reas a calendar, the control of my urge for instant gratification and the eradication of my insane belief that everything will work out becuase I want it to. Who am I to challenge to wisdom of my five faithful readers?
All this stuff going on makes me feel tired and sad means I am not afraid to experience any of my emotions. Sad and tired are as much part of life's rich tapestry no, I can't believe I wrote that either as thrilled and triumphant. There's plenty of room for that too.
More anon, dream-weavers!

POLYP

polyp pol·yp (pŏl'ĭp)

n. a usually non-malignant growth of tissue protruding from the mucous lining of an organ such as the nose, bladder or intestine, often causing obstruction.
Also callled polypus

OMFG I have coral up my nose

ALSO
clogging up about 75% of my sinuses
significantly blocking my intake of air
increasing the likelihood of infection well blow me down with a feather who would have thought it?
AND making my face hurt most of the time
ALSO
Gone within the next six weeks. Bring on the laser! Or whatever. I don't want to know. J read the surgery info brochure and told me I really dont want to know. I knew I shouldnt have watched Little Shop of Horrors last week.
In other news, the LBTEPA dominance of the Bad Mother Awards (Letting the Side Down division) continues: after dragging Noddie to Melbourne on the train and making her hold my big sooky la-la hand while the doctor shoved things into my face ewwwwwwwwww (although I'm sure viewing the gunked-up interior of her mother's nose via a fibre-optic camera was educational), plans for an aquarium visit were, ahem, postponed in favour of buying shoes. For Noddie! She's grown over the winter! She needed them! Then she wanted salt and vinegar chips for tea and I let her have them because the train was crowded and it was a long way home.
More anon

Memo

From: The Nasty Surprise Fairy
To: The Virus Currently Trashing LBTEPA's Upper Respiratory System

Re: Timing

Dear V
whilst I am full of admiration for the underhanded way in which you concealed your insidious infiltration under the guise of post-long-run soreness and what may or may not have been a hangover after a drawn Grand Final and Big Night Out with Old Friends I admit nothing, and even more impressed by the speed and intensity with which you have laid her low with aches, coughing and a window-rattling bark - less than 24 hours! awesome! - I would like to point out the following
- she's already done all her long runs. You may have made yesterday's 20km into a 3-hour sufferfest during which she was a close as she's ever been to ringing the Spousal Unit for a lift home, but it got done, and all the 30km+ runs are already in the bag. How many times do I have to tell you, V? They're the ones we have to mess up if we're going to turn the marathon into a Long Day Of Pain. I'd appreciate a bit more focus in future. The Gold Coast was an Epic Win for us, yes, but we cannot rest on out laurels.
- it's two weeks until race day. Two. Weeks. Since when have you ever stuck around that long? You're good, darl, but you're not that good. As a backup plan, could you let Chest Infection know we might need him to step in? In addition, I'll be talking to the Weather Fairy about some unseasonable warmth.
- I'd appreciate your thoughts on whether we need to reconsider our overall approach. LBTEPA is getting so good at Just Keeping Moving under sub-optimal conditions, it's almost creepy. In the meantime, I'll see what I can do at the sinus surgeon's office on Tuesday. I'll keep you posted.
In future, V, I would appreciate it if you could pay closer attention to these matters. I cannot manage all aspects of Project Trash 10/10 myself as I am very busy. Regards
Nasty Surprise Fairy

Note to self: think twice before g00gle image searching "nasty surprise fairy"!!

You know what?

- laughing at a person because she is upset that her footy team lost the preliminary final THANKS UMPIRES FOR DECIDING THAT NONE OF OUR PLAYERS HAD HEADS OR BACKS is actually saying "I believe I have the right to decide what's important to you". So, wanna laugh about when my dog got run over?
- I put together a pretty decent 35km on Saturday, especially considering I had to start at 5.30am to get back in time to catch the noon train to get to Melbourne for the footy NOT THAT WE'RE EVER MENTIONING THAT AGAIN. I started out with 20 km of run two songs, walk one - and Mark, yes, when Bat out of Hell is followed by Bohemian Rhapsody then it is a bit of a struggle. Focusing on the music rather than the watch seems to be working well for me. It helps me keep in a "you do your marathon your way, I'll do mine my way" state of mind, even when annoying Perky Fast People With Friends to Run With bastards zoom by and then shout 'encouraging' remarks on the way back. Yes, lady, I AM doing well.
- I'm so lucky to do my long runs along the rail trail - it's gorgeous, of course, all paddocks and bushland and birds and views, but also becuase there are not many long straight bits, it's very easy to 'chunk'.
Home to the highway
Highway to the rail path
First and second crossroads
Two small bridges
Cross the highway and head through the paddocks
A couple of (ahem) "hills" and two more crossroads into a little town
Footbridge over the river
Up the gravel path through the scented bushes to the next crossroads
Back to the start of the rail path and home along the river track
I must mention that this route includes EIGHT Seats o' Temptation, which as an out and back makes SIXTEEN opportunities to "just have a little rest for a moment". Some days I hate them more than others is it so wrong to give the finger to an inanimate object when no-one's looking? but I've not once succumbed to their siren call. Go me, eh?
- I changed up to run 3 songs: walk 1 with 15km to go (and if you think that can't go horribly wrong you don't know my playlist. Stupid Mozart). I was surprised at how well I could sustain it. Could there be something in this consistency lark after all?
- I like The Taper. The Taper is my friend.
- It's a worry to me that I feel quietly confident about VSM#3. What can the Nasty Surprise Fairy be planning for this one?
- Even when it's abundantly clear that you're doing the Right Thing, it's hard to quit your job when everyone there is so nice.

More anon, dreamers.

Rash decisions

As of four weeks from now I will only have two jobs. This is A Good Thing. I didn't wear my awesome zebra shoes becuase they would have clashed with my outfit (brown/rose tones). Never fear! I wore these very funky t-bars instead. Get this: since I made the decision to drop my third job, to focus on getting the Spousal Unit Properly Well again, the strange rash I've had on my shoulders has gone. Just Like That. Hmmm.
I've really reaallly worked hard on Not Stressing Out for Very Slow Marathon #3, while still putting in the kms. I just can't go back to where I was before VSM#2. When I look back at the preparation for Gold Coast, it's as though at a bad dream. I reckon I'd still have run it sick and underprepared even if I had known how horrible it would be, but that's becuase I'm a bloody-minded idiot with achievement issues. However: Never .Again. My priorities are different now too. I have to be the calm, coping organiser at home. J can do without me having lame meltdowns about my hobbies - you know,the ones I've chosen to do? If Operation VSM #3 was ever going to work, I had to find another, realistic, sustainable way to go about it. I had to suck up the fact that, under my current circumstances, setting a time goal would lead to a quick trip along the Pressure and Disappointment highway. NOT GOING THERE. That sub-6 will have to wait. Don't laugh, I'll do it one day... This time, the only appropriate goal is to finish. Le sigh... There are benefits to Project Cruisy Marathon, though. Rolling out of bed at 5am after getting off the train at 10.30 the previous night wasn't so bad when it was just for a pleasant, easy, no-pressure run....a 33km run.....ok who am I kidding, not easy AT ALL. But a run with the sole aim of covering the required ground, no matter how long it takes, avoids the whole how-slow-was-that-km-OMG-why-am-I-such-a-lardy-loser-I-hate-this agitation/despair death spiral. I did have a Plan, of course: run two songs:walk one song, shifting to run 3 walk 1 for the last 10km, cos that's when I start to really want to get home. Note to self for next post: inflict marathon playlist on five faithful readers. J gave me a cool hat with a light in the brim, which is tremendous for those pre-dawn stumbles down unmade roads and uneven footpaths. Thanks darl!
Now where was I? Oh yes, Saturday's run. I've been struggling with a sinus thingy (yawn, so what's new?) and what with that, a big week in Melbourne and a late night, I got to the 5km mark where the rail trail starts and quite frankly wasn't feeling the love.
Sniffle! Cough! Look out! Here comes the excuse-and-justification train! Are YOU hopping on, LBTEPA? It was one of those Defining Moments. I said to myself, LBTEPA old girl, turn around by all means. You're tired. You've not been well. 10km will do for the day. Go home if you like.
But if you do, you have to drop to the half marathon on 10/10. Without this run you won't be ready. Simple as that. Choose.
Sh$*!
And off up the trail I went. I was going to write more but just got some news about Beating the Bastard Sinuses for Ever! Yay! But it will probably involve surgery. Eww.
It was a good run though. I feel happy when I think about it.
More anon

Play On!

Since I got off the train from Melbourne on Friday at 11pm I've run 33km, made a powerpoint presentation which I didn't use because the stupid data projector wouldn't work arrgghh, gone out to dinner, been HYSTERICAL about my Bulldogs WINNING their sudden-death semi final (after I snuck out of the restaurant to check the scores just before half time and we were 30 points down, I nearly threw up with terror and hope when I got home and we were five points up with five minutes to go (for my non-Aussie Rules friends, 1 goal = 6 points = one straight kick by the Swans and All Was Lost). There may have been some less-than-seemly squealing and OMG OMG OMG WE WE WON WE WON-ing after the siren. I admit nothing), given a talk at church, taken Lara to a party, finished unpacking, done and hung 3 loads of washing so it had bloody better not rain tonight, cleaned the house of the debris of 3 days without my supervision, bought groceries and the makings of a Pippi Longstocking wig (for Lara's school dress-up day, theme 'reading'), made dinner ok ok it was nachos, you know I'm a paid-up member of the Bad Mothers' Club (Crap Cook Division), ordered new shorts and gels and done the banking online, and put together a playlist for Very Slow Marathon #3. After I put Noddie to bed I'm going to SIT DOWN AND NOT MOVE.
Tomorrow I'm resigning from one of my jobs. The Spousal Unit needs me to be around more at the moment. Something's gotta give, and it's not going to be my (or his) health.
I'm also putting the scales away until after VSM #3, and perhaps even longer. You were so right, Emma. I DO rock exactly the way I am, and I DON'T need any more demands on my resources. I certainly don't need a failure, which is what Project -4kg would be if I tried it now. I'll wear my new shoes when I see my boss in the morning.
I'm going to Melbourne again on the train for the footy on Saturday night. It'll be ugly, but I'm up for it. More anon, faith-keepers!

the most wonderful time of the year

NOT.
It's finals time. My poor Doggies are in the four and we're not up to it. It's going to be a long fortnight.
J is at one end of the house watching his beloved (ahem, he doesn't even cough up for a membership AND he couldn't care less about them when they're not winning) Pies thrash my darling Bulldogs (the only time I've not had a membership was when I was so broke I couldn't afford my health insurance) while I watch a scary Dr Who at the other end of the house.
I spend a lot of time sucking stuff up, rationalising, accepting and reframing. My job is helping people see things in a more functional way. Well you know what? No-one can do that all the time. Footy is where I don't pretend. My visceral, emotional six year old is allowed out. It's Not Fair. This Sucks. Everyone Is Mean To Us. Why can't WE ever have the upset? Waaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!
Yes, it's irrational, no, it doesn't make sense. You can laugh at me if you want. But I bleed for my Bulldogs. I do care. I Am Upset.
So there.
More anon, heart-on-sleevers!
P.S quantities of sparkling shiraz may or may not have had an influence on this post. I admit nothing.

A clue

can't breathe properly
face hurts All The Time
gastro
chest full of concrete
window-shaking cough
can't stay warm....

....must be a marathon coming up
......that I've and worked hard for and looked forward to for months
.........these things happen

dr tomorrow

All. So. Boring.

Ooh look! shoes!


more anon, high steppers!

How would I know?

Alarm set for 6am - check
Running gear - check
Half banana and water - check
Sinus spray, decongestant medicine and asthma puffer - check
7km run- check
Post-run ibuprofen (for sore face) - check
It struck me this morning that my tolerance for discomfort may be too high.

Knowing when to stop is something I grapple with on a reular basis. I don't feel that much worse after a workout, and I'm pretty sure it's just another over-friendly virus, to which, as my five faithful readers know, I am tiresomely prone. The Spousal Unit and my mum and dad have been rolling their eyes at me though. I don't know, maybe I've become a bit too resigned to it all? After the last couple of winters I've come to the conclusion that if I'm going to get sick, resting does absolutely smeg all to prevent it. So I might as well plug on until the germs win and I have to stop. This may or may not make sense. How would I know?
I've been self-destructive in the past, and this doesn't feel like that. Taking the stance well, I'll just keep working out until I feel too crook to go on might seem a bit sick on some levels, especially given my usual inability to notice that it was actually time to stop quite a while ago, but it is a more useful strategy for me than oh f#$* f#$* f#$* I'm sick AGAIN this is all my fault all is lost whaddamIgunnadoooooo? Resigned acceptance works much better for me than helplessness and self-blame. Less tiring - and much less tiresome to others.

In other news, after a long, wet, cold winter the plum blossoms and wattle trees are out!
Hellooooooooooo Spring! Welcome back! So happy to see you!
More anon

No pressure

I know stuff. Oh yes, I do.
I feel much more calm and happy when my floors and benches are clean. Our Very Good vacuum cleaner and steam mop are investments in my mental health.
When things are ok and everyone is buzzing along nicely it's ok for spouses to function almost in parallel. But when one reveals that things are not so hoopy on Planet Spousal Unit, the other had better change her focus quicksticks and get into Looking After J mode. We're a team: united we stand!
We are very, very lucky. All is fundamentally well. We never stop counting our blessings.
The hoop-jumping required to get through my uni course is abso#$%*inglutely #$%*ing infuriating. They've got a #$%*ing nerve taking our money, the #$%*ing #$%*s. Grrrrrrrrrr.
Last week I did two things I've never done before: got an extension for an assignment the shame, the shame; and, upon realising that I'd run out of a key dinner ingredient, Gave Up. Yes, for want of some tinned tomatoes I put my kid into her dressing gown and took her through the maccas drive-through, and bought my poor husband a souvlaki from the takeaway. I am totally joining the Bad Mothers' Club.
I deal with Help-I-Have-An-Assignment-To-Do-and-I-Don't-Know-How anxiety by looking at cool shoes on the internet. Mmmmmmm......shoes.............
A good bawl for no reason and a nice sweaty bike workout improves pretty much any day.
In other news:
The fine minds here at the LBTEPA Think Tank have concluded that we Do Not Need Any More Pressure. This means I simply cannot do Super-Keen and Determined for Very Slow Marathon #3 (in 41 days, not that I'm counting). This time Effort and Will are not the answer. I have to trick my tired worried little mind into being all super-cruisy and no problemo, while still covering the required ground. Good thing LBTEPA is a woman of infinite ideas, no? Except when there are no tomatoes.
Now the Plan is This: exercise six days a week. Two mid-week runs and a long one, plus swim, ride, weights...whatever. Just move.
No clock-watching on the long runs. Rather than 9:1 or 4:1 run: walk intervals, I'm using the brilliant two songs:one song method. Mind-blowing in its simplicity, no? As long as you have an 1p0d. No stress, just music! Drink every walk break and a gel every hour. No dramas. Just right.
I've been approaching de-larding the wrong way, I think. Focusing on Not eating (or drinking yes and please don't remind me of that smug post a few months back where I boasted how I have no trouble refusing a sherby and it's all so easy - I DO AND IT ISN'T) is pretty much automatic FAIL for me, which pretty much equals automatic well I wasn't that interested anyway. I was thinking about this, and I think it will work better if I move toward what I want rather than away from what I don't want. So what do I want?
I want two things.
This number on the scales

76.*kg

and these.
Or rather, the similarly gorgeous pair waiting at the back of my wardrobe, all snuggled in their box just waiting for that happy, happy day when we can be together. Now that'll help drown out the siren call of the second helping.

Next post I'll put up a picture of the Real Shoes O'Fabulousness, and also the awesome art J and I bought at a gallery opening on the weekend. Oh I know......coo er flash eh?
More anon, mes ami!

Lucky

I saw the most gorgeous sunrise when I was out running this morning. Oh my it was glorious. Red and orange and crimson and magenta and pink. The trees along the river were black silhouettes against the stunning daybreak. It was magic.
Then off to my left I saw it - the setting moon, huge and shiny like a silver coin in the violet sky.

State of play

Since last I reported in any detail, dear readers, much has been happening here on Planet LBTEPA. As it does. To summarise:
Weeks of uni reading done: 5/5
Uni assignments due: 1
Assignments done: 0
Courses of antibiotics: 2
CAT scans of bastard sinuses: 1
Referrals to ENT specialist to investigate fluid/soft tissue abnormalities: 1
Awesome customer service experiences with Brooks and the New Balance outlet : 2
Pairs of running socks bought online from the US for the same price as one pair from the local distributors (including postage): 2

Phone calls/emails returned by uni placement supervisor: 0
Hours it will probably take to catch up on paperwork backlog arising from lack of training at new job: 15
Thoughts of chucking it all in and running off to a desert island: 1000000 Days off work with poor sick Noddie: 1
Sock puppets made: 2
Trips to hospital with Noddie for an afternoon on the nebuliser: 1
Missed mid-week workouts: 1
Missed long runs: 0
Election ads ads on TV sworn at: 1000000. Thank goodness the pre-poll media blackout has started.

More anon, castaways!

Baaaa

"There are many reasons that suffering without undue complaining may be good for the soul, but ensuring one's reward in heaven is not one of them. Courage is its own reward, and there can never be a good reason to cause other people suffering - which is what complaining does".
A dear friend of mine posted this as her FB status the other day. She is a very spiritual, soulful person with many wonderful qualities. Her words made me think.
1. Is courage its own reward? I thought the bling was the reward?
2. I should give up blogging altogether.
3. No! Didn't we just have this conversation the other day?
4. No-one except me has to read this.
5. No-one at all has to like it.
6. Hang on. Complaining/whingeing/grizzling is very useful! Verbalising things like fear and doubt and OMG WTF was I thinking before - and while - I do something I'm scared of gives those feelings a shape, a controllable form that I can manage much better than the nebulous 'I am soooo feeling anxious/angry/manipulated/inadequate but I am soooo not admitting it, even to myself'. If I write it or say it I can see it. If I can see it I can get past it, over it, around it or through it.
It will come as no surprise to my five faithful readers that while we here at the LBTEPA Institute are big fans of the Stiff Upper Lip shouldn't that be Stiff Lower Lip?, we believe that giving oneself permission to voice both positive and negative feelings can be very liberating. Within reason (quantitatively speaking), of course - or, as our research suggests, you'll be voicing them all by yourself fairly quickly.
Another thing: sometimes if you complain about things, people offer solutions you haven't been able to come up with by yourself. Ideas that pull you up short and make you see the situation in a whole new way - even validating your pessimism! Some of the most helpful things I've ever heard have been in response to my lamest bleating.
If you're having such a rotten time, why are you doing it? Because I want to. Perhaps I'd better shut up a bit about it though
You've got nothing to prove. True.
What if you forgave yourself for not being perfect? Ooooh, now there's a thought....
It'll hurt a lot and take a long time, but you'll get there. It did, it did and I did.
And my favourite
well yes, you do complain a lot, but you're funny.
More anon, world bleaters!

It's not me, it's you

Dear LBTEPA
what's going on here? What's changed between us? Things used to be so good. We got on so well - we could say anything to each other. I'd take on everything you said, with an open mind and open heart. You used to let it all hang out with me, say what you thought, tell of your adventures, philosophise, and let go with flights of fancy that went on for pages.
What's happened? When did I become another place where you felt awkward or ashamed or self conscious, or worried about what other people think? I'm sad that's happened. This isn't what we were about, darl. We were about living honestly, fear and self-doubt and whingeing and all. This was a place to speak your mind, all the grand and splendid and wonderful and bitchy and sooky and shallow bits. What happened?
Don't lose that, LBTEPA. I know you've been under the hammer this year, what with the move to Planet New and the new jobs and uni being all stupid and the marathon o' Stupid Determination. I know you're tired. Please don't go back down that road, my friend. Don't edit yourself. Be real, here with me. Who cares how many comments you get or what they say? We're about the writing. We're about the space to be yourself, and talk to other people on the same journey, and make friends who know the real you.
Don't leave me. Don't leave you.
Lots of love
Your Blog

Enough said

Well sports fans it's been quite a week. All my jobs are hotting up which is great as I'm learning heaps - especially about playing catch-up with required documentation which it would have be helpful to have been told about.
Uni is interesting although it would also be helpful if my supervisor would answer his phone or emails. I'm not missing TV all that much.
The inlaws are up for a flying visit. Noddie's school concert was last night (awwwwwwww) and J has given Noddie the day off school today b/c the inlaws can't possibly drive back to Melbourne tomorrow and then go to the footy in the evening. Far too fatiguing. Their dog won't walk on our tiles. Too cold. Noddie is Over-Excited. I'm staying right out of it.
I'm off to my fancy-pants consultant job this morning and then covering 20km on foot this afternoon, not calling it running 'cause the plan is to Just Keep Moving very very slowly over back streets and the rail path through the paddocks mmmmm......... oh how I am looking forward to it.
more anon, weekend warriors!

When in doubt....

....if possible, always go for the option that includes a lovely day at the races in a fab new hat.