Bum notes

21.10.2014
Day 190

This was supposed to be back-on-track day. However, another Tuesday evening has come and gone without my attending Kent AC training. Not only that, circuits with Erik was cancelled owing to inclement weather. Today's Tuesday training was limited to a couple of cycle rides and a couple of walks. My heel and instep hurt. My backside hurts. I feel vaguely elderly.

My right foot is glad of the rest, perhaps. My red cells would like another day to recoup. Life just got in the way today. The tailwind of the latest hurricane (see yesterday's post) to fizzle out around our coastline caused great gusts of wind and squalls of rain, which were enough to put Erik off his stride. So my Tuesday circuits were truncated to mere yoga moves and planks on the mat. I had to cycle on an emergency toiletries mission to aunt's care home at upper Sydenham, further uphill from these lofty gardens at the Horniman Museum.
Strong winds made this more of an uphill struggle than usual. The Sound Garden (pictured) had to contend with the wind whistling through the trees. Brake failure on the descent necessitated a trip to the bike mechanic in Ladywell, then renewed foot pain, sore throat and family duties all conspired against my lacing up and jogging to the track. I feel like  a wuss. I feel the flab gathering as I procrastinate ever further into my training regime. Yes, another early night, ibuprofen and no intervals endorphins to disturb healing sleep may, in the long run, help build a stronger me. On the other hand, the longer I leave off the proper speed work, the more of a bogey it will become. Autumn leaves swirl and I feel a pricking in my thumbs. I must get this malaise sorted out by Hallowe'en. 

Her indoors

While the weather's as unseasonably gorgeous as this, who wouldn't want to be outside?

20.10.2014
Day 189

Recovery day, so a quick leg stretcher and plantar tester in the park. Difficult to stay at desk when the sun is so shiny.

There's a hurricane coming in from Mexico, so they say. The weather outside will be frightful by nightfall. Rain will be intense and continuous from dinner time until around lunch-time tomorrow. To heap on the misery, the mercury will drop to a more seasonal, distinctly chillier, temperature. The point of this impromptu forecast? That longer, wetter, colder nights and shorter, wetter, colder days will inevitably make getting out there to run more of a challenge.
Fairweather runners mark the clocks going forward with a determined sprint gymward. They complete their winter training on the treadmill and wait until balmier conditions to step outdoors again. Yet even the most faithful of treadmillers cannot gainsay the tedium of that infernal machine. Pounding the belt and going nowhere, with nothing to look at accept the LCD, adjusting the gradient to ring the changes and perhaps the odd swivel of the head to see how your neighbour's doing and wondering whether your stomach will ever look as flat as hers.
For these reluctant hamsters help is at hand, in the form of The Zone Dome. 
It's a treadmill, yes. It's in a gym, absolutely. But it takes you to places you'd like to see. It's Kevin Hewitt's idea. He calls it 'business class' treadmill running. The Zone Dome, which can be integrated with modern gym treadmills, plays HD films of beautiful countryside surrounding you as you get some serious mileage under your belt. So your five-mile run can take you through a whole landscape of your choice: mountain passes with snow-capped peaks on the horizon, grassland and savannah (is that the scent of wildebeest dung on the warm African wind?), tropical rainforest with exotic humming birds flitting to and fro. It certainly beats having Eastenders blasting its misery at you as you sweat through your 30-minute workout. 
I tried Zone Dome the other week, as a guest at the rather splendid Chelsea Health Club & Spa. 
I'm no fan of the treadmill, but having something beautiful to focus on helped me forget about the fact that I was running myself into a lather and going absolutely nowhere.
I can fully appreciate that gym bunnies will enjoy running business class. Me, I'll stick to the economy of my local park in the pouring rain. It's the cross country season, and nothing can beat a Saturday afternoon in my club vest and pants in some unknown part of Surrey, slaloming down a real, not virtual, 'brown run' (that's a very muddy hill) and landing on my arse in a puddle. There's no fool like an old-school fool.

Only women bleed

Chubby day

19.10.2014
Day 188

Meet coach Ted, Nic, Sarah and Jacqui for Sunday Long Run. They're forewarned that I may drop out because of my hurty foot and blood depleted state. That was a reference to my blood donation on Friday, although an added complication is, er, lunar. You get me? Got the painters in.

The others are up for a briskish ten miler this balmy, blustery, bright day. After one mile at 8.20m/m, though, I'm sweaty and breathless. This is always the case after giving blood, and with the added complication of today's women's issues, I'm in danger of wussing out before I've begun. Nonetheless, I power on, sweatily, grunting slightly and letting the others talk, for five miles or so, before deciding to take the Forster Park route back from Beckenham. Jacquie joins me. She's recently had an eye operation and her special protective glasses are making her feel seasick.
I need to recoup those red blood cells. Drinking extra water, protein rich eggs and iron rich spinach included in my meals and a mental note to put my feet up. Self prescribing dark chocolate is a positive pleasure.That's all good. The fact that I ran at all, let alone clocked up seven miles, is to be celebrated. For all my weakness and vague nausea, I am convinced that running is the best thing you can do to combat period pain. Curling up with a hot water bottle in the manner of sulky teenage girls just makes you navel (womb) gaze. Go with the flow. It just might be a bit slow. You run faster and farther from Day 4 of the cycle apparently. I'll check that on Thursday. 

Running like a child

Running up that hill....with no problem

18.10.2014
Day 187

A brisk mile walking, to Hillyfields to be a marshall at Parkrun, walk back. A day gardening with heavy limbs and plantar pain. Or whatever it is. As I write I press my heel and instep on a hard golf ball, the pain travels all the way up to the glute. Feeling vaguely unwell, sleeps disturbances occasioned by fretting over continuing unemployment. Weak from the bloodletting. Feel hot at night. Presume that's menopause, but the weather is extremely balmy (is it me, or is it hot out there?)

A lovely day for Hillyfields Parkrun , blowy, blustery, sunny and very warm. I stood at the bottom of this hill and encouraged them up. Might it have helped the runners? It's always a worry, whether enthusiastic encouragement, and words along the lines of 'keep going!' (as if they're not going to) and 'Well done!' sound patronising. I tried many tacks this morning:
'Three times up this hill, save some energy for the third and final!'
'Use your arms to power you up the hill!'
'Fantastic! Don't walk!'
So I try to be useful, rather than merely irritating. Most people smile through the pain as I jump about and whoop, so I  think they like it.
With the children, it's easy. They like enthusiasm. They often have stitches and clasp dramatically at their sides. You can tell them to put their arms in the air and take deep breaths and they automatically do that. What I love about watching children run is their ease of movement. Their arms and legs are automatically loose and flowing in synch. The girls don't do bosomy lady running, with the arms pointlessly crossing over the trunk. The boys don't hunch, stoop and thump their heels like so many men. They're as poised and balanced as Premiership footballers. Why can't we adults do that?
And when you beam at a child and urge her to go faster, she responds. Those pure little lungs suck up more oxygen and the spurt is obvious. They look like they're fading then they spring up the hill that's destroying their parent.
Would I could run like a child, but given my current predicament a jog without foot pain would be good. 

Giving blood and its effects on the runner

How long will it take me to be bright eyed and bushy tailed again?

17.10.2014
Day 186

Confined to bike again, to try to save further pain from plantar fasciitis. My running buddy wanted to do eight miles at 8.30 m/m so I pedalled and chatted. Later I cycled to Docklands for my thrice-yearly blood donation

Giving blood does not hurt. It makes you feel good and you are given drinks, biscuits and crisps. People are very nice to you. It's social. It's an excuse to look after yourself, and for the injured runner, it is a way to stop fretting and fuming about training lost and PBs fading. For at least a week (in my case it's 2-3 weeks) your times are slow and you tire more easily, because your body is working hard ot make up the blood stock again. I can remember attempting a cross country race four days after giving a pint. I was so weak and my time was so slow I was close to tears.
So tomorrow my burning heel and I will walk briskly to Hillyfields parkrun and voluncheer.
We have to see these injury setbacks as a way of Giving Something Back.
If you are a runner, considering giving blood, eat and drink well on the day. Continue drinking plenty for 48 hours afterwards, don't abstain from running, but do understand why you're not running as fast or far as usual. Don't fret. You'll be back to normal in 14 days or so.
Do give blood.

Show and Tell

16.10.2014
Day 185

To Hillyfields, for circuits with Alana, Hyacinth and Rebecca, overseen by Erik, Team Shape U

We had the six-pack training wheels again, despite DOMS from that particular beast on Tuesday, along with boxing, dangling from a chin-up bar, I,Y,T,W stretches, crossbow, and squats. Nice combinations, all good for abdominals and upper back.

Thence to Southwark Park on my bike, to take my first ever Buggy Runners session

Core session this evening. Ted showed Adele, Jan, John and me good methods for dynamic warm ups, sprints, speed play, warm down and stretch.

I paid careful mind to Erik’s wisdom today, trying to keep some golden nuggets for my women. Three turned up, with babies in buggies: Paula, then Anuja and Maya. I think I may have tried too hard to make them like me, and perhaps vouchsafed too much information about tricky things like pelvic floor, and embarrassing things such as stress incontinence. I regretted making vapid comments about back fat, which made them look a bit distressed. Whether I worked them hard enough, or provided enough variety, I cannot be sure. I fished for feedback, and duly received it. The fact is, will they come back, knowing it’s me again next week?

After Southwark Park, I had little opportunity or inclination to work at my desk. I was tired after the morning, and unready for a track session in the evening, albeit far less full on than the Tuesday ones. The atmosphere down there is lovely though: one coach leading lots of little kids with javelins, another making a groaning kid do fast feet, Pete with his elites, some lone runners powering round, and Ted's little group of Kent ACers with dreams of PBs. 

I enjoy the stretching and lengthening exercise but was still uncomfortable with the sprints, for both hormonal and plantar fasciitis reasons. I will have to make some sort of doctor's appointment to see what is going on. I felt a bit old, tubby and slow, if I'm honest, particularly when it came to 12x80m sprints with 15 seconds recovery. Almost broken by the end.  A hard day, and no mistake.

Heel thyself

The Bandstand, Southwark Park. In more clement  weather

15.10.2014
Day 184

Swam this morning. 40 lengths (25m pool). My heel still hurts, and when I turn my foot on a cobble or somesuch the pain in the heel, just near the instep, is excruciating. Meanwhile I am not running, just walking, cycling and swimming. I realise it is about 10 day since I tried to run fast (the end of the Bournemouth Half). How long can I last on this self-imposed running ban? How much fitness will I lose?
I cycled to Southwark Park (my office tomorrow morning) and checked out the lie of the land.

The bandstand (that picture was taken on a far less gloomy day) at Southwark Park is where I will set up a few circuits for my buggy runners tomorrow. I identified round the pond for their warm-up/power walk, a useful low wall for tricep dips and sit ups, and a benign slope for shuttle running. I also 'negotiated' a 10% discount at the café for the women who turn up. I do hope some women turn up.

I realise I am at halfway point in this year. Have I trained seriously this past six months? I am satisfied that I have at least recorded my triumphs and failures, my falling off the wagon and my physical shortcomings. Perhaps this year will follow the negative split pattern, and the second six months will see me a lean, keen, running machine with working feet.