I'm starting to think that my life is giant conspiracy against me running target marathons. This week should have been the final push, but I started with a burning sensation in my throat on Tuesday evening. By Thursday morning my left tonsil had swollen up and was bright red. I felt like (and still feel like) I'd been hit by a bus. Game over.
To add to the fun at 10am yesterday, as I was skulking on the sofa, my cat appeared from upstairs and sat down briefly. She was very fidgety and every time she moved she left behind a little wet patch. I called the vet (no mean feat since I had very little voice), covered the sofa and floor in kitchen towel and panicked that I'd made her ill by giving her an infection. The vet said that's not possible, but it's rather a coincidence don't you think. They kept her for a few hours to administer antibiotics and do tests. Driving to the vets twice was soooo not safe. I think I had about 7 near misses in each direction each time. And I have to go back today to get some medication for her that they ordered in. She actually seems much better, except that she isn't jumping up on the sofa or the bed.
I am not much better. The burning sensation in my throat has passed but I am feverish, one minute boiling and sweating, the next freezing and shivering. I look like shit and the house looks like a bomb has hit it.
Had I done the training I maybe wouldn't worry about the marathon being effected, but the fact is that I'm 200 miles plus short on the schedule already, most of which have been missed in the last few weeks. I'm not in the best shape anyway so there's no point subjecting my body to the stress of it. Best to move on I think.
But hey, the IBS has been better behaved of late. Except for a really bad case of bloating post Great North Run (caused by eating something from the goody bag - there were problems with the transport on the way home and I was stuck on a platform for over an hour with no access to any other food).
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Stafford HM 2014
Friday 18 September 2015
Sunday 6 September 2015
Peak mileage week decimated by colonoscopy
There will be waaaay TMI in this blog, you have been warned!
On Monday I had to start the ridiculous white food prep diet. The instructions were to eat foods ONLY from this list: boiled chicken, boiled or steamed white fish, eggs, cheese, milk, white bread, white potatoes with no skin, rich tea biscuits. Yuk.
I have to admit I was looking forward to breakfast a bit though. Cheese on toast. OK, so it was lactose free cheese on whit toast with no Lee and Perrins, but since I'm intolerant to dairy and avoiding wheat for Fodmap elimination, I haven't had such a thing in ages. It was rather lovely. Less lovely was my morning run. 6 treadmill miles of slog. By the time I'd subjected myself to plain boiled chicken with boiled potatoes and a little cheese and a few rich teas I was feeling sluggish. The planned 10 miler for the afternoon turned into a 4 mile plod. I did manage a weights workout though.
On Tuesday I got up early for a 4 mile run before work but had to run at a slower pace than normal. I finished work around 1pm and hoped to fit in another 6 miles before starting to take the laxative, but I had no energy. I only managed a little over a mile.
So the time came to take the Moviprep and I relocated upstairs with some nice drinks to intersperse with the laxative. The instructions said to expect things to start happening as soon as you take the first dose, to stay near a toilet and advise the use of a barrier cream. It took an hour an a half to chug through the first litre and nothing happened. Well, my stomach swelled up with all the liquid in it, but I tried to go to the loo and nothing came out. I started the second dose at 7pm and finished it at 8.30pm. Still nothing. My stomach was huge and squishy and tender, but still nothing moving. I was getting worried by this point. Finally at 9.30pm, five and a half hours after starting, I was able to go. It was just like water. No explosion, no cramps, just a steady stream of liquid. There was never any urgency and I went maybe 4 or 5 times in total before falling asleep in the early hours. Plus once more on waking. I was so convinced it hadn't worked properly!
I got antsy sitting around the house so I decided to walk to the hospital. This may not have been the smartest plan in retrospect, but I was OK. Just hungry. I was nervous and it seemed an age before I was called in. It didn't help that the air con was broken in the waiting room. After a questionnaire they gave me a gown and dressing gown and ..... dignity shorts. I laughed out loud. They were navy blue and made out of papery stuff. One size fits all and it's a good job I'm fat at the minute because they hung off my hips and ended just above my knees. There was a flap at the back with velcro. Yes, really. They took me through to theatre and asked me if I knew what they were going to do to me. D'uh, yes! What exactly? They ask. You're sticking a camera where the sun don't shine, says I. And so they did. After plugging me in to the sedative and sticking some sort of giant cotton wool ball up my nose (I have no clue what that was). Memories are hazy but I recall seeing the screen and thinking it wasn't very attractive inside me. Very pink and tubular. I also recall some discomfort going around the bends, but no pain. Then it was done. I think I would have liked to have spent a bit longer lying down but I must have been compis mentis enough to satisfy criteria and they moved me to a changing cubicle where I had to sit up and drink coffee and eat bourbon biscuits before they would take the annoying canula out of my arm. Oh, alright then. They handed me my discharge sheets and left me to get changed before finally dumping me in the waiting room to wait for my friend to collect me. All done.
I was a bit spaced out for the rest of the day. It was like being on drugs. Well, I suppose I was! I did manage to watch Despicable Me 2 and the Free From Bake Off (useless!), but that was it.
I expected to feel normal again on Thursday but it was like having a hangover. I was so tired and nauseous. And also starving hungry. Yup, just like a hangover. I hoped to make it out in the evening for a short run and to collect my prescription, but that was soooo not happening.
Back to work on Friday and it took a few hours to wake up properly, then I felt fine for the rest of the day. Great, I can get a decent run in, I thought.... By the time I'd done a full day, collected my prescription and waited an age to get it filled at the chemist I was done in. No run for me.
Having done no proper training all week I thought I'd better do something useful on Saturday. So I took myself off to Gedling to reclaim my course record at the stupidly hilly parkrun. 20.46, the course record is mine again but jeez that is one hard course. I probably should have done an afternoon run but I was tired again having run a load of errands in the morning and then taking the cat to the vet in the afternoon.
Today was my last proper long run. 24 miles. I died a death in the last mile. Possibly related to the terrifying, sticky, black tinged with dark green poo that came out of me this morning. Totally freaked me out that did. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about as I'm back to my usual browny yellowy icky colour, albeit with a tinge of mid-green. Anyway, I'm treating that as a one off but monitoring. Life with IBS is such a treat.
A measly 45 miles for the week. It should have been 85.
On Monday I had to start the ridiculous white food prep diet. The instructions were to eat foods ONLY from this list: boiled chicken, boiled or steamed white fish, eggs, cheese, milk, white bread, white potatoes with no skin, rich tea biscuits. Yuk.
I have to admit I was looking forward to breakfast a bit though. Cheese on toast. OK, so it was lactose free cheese on whit toast with no Lee and Perrins, but since I'm intolerant to dairy and avoiding wheat for Fodmap elimination, I haven't had such a thing in ages. It was rather lovely. Less lovely was my morning run. 6 treadmill miles of slog. By the time I'd subjected myself to plain boiled chicken with boiled potatoes and a little cheese and a few rich teas I was feeling sluggish. The planned 10 miler for the afternoon turned into a 4 mile plod. I did manage a weights workout though.
On Tuesday I got up early for a 4 mile run before work but had to run at a slower pace than normal. I finished work around 1pm and hoped to fit in another 6 miles before starting to take the laxative, but I had no energy. I only managed a little over a mile.
So the time came to take the Moviprep and I relocated upstairs with some nice drinks to intersperse with the laxative. The instructions said to expect things to start happening as soon as you take the first dose, to stay near a toilet and advise the use of a barrier cream. It took an hour an a half to chug through the first litre and nothing happened. Well, my stomach swelled up with all the liquid in it, but I tried to go to the loo and nothing came out. I started the second dose at 7pm and finished it at 8.30pm. Still nothing. My stomach was huge and squishy and tender, but still nothing moving. I was getting worried by this point. Finally at 9.30pm, five and a half hours after starting, I was able to go. It was just like water. No explosion, no cramps, just a steady stream of liquid. There was never any urgency and I went maybe 4 or 5 times in total before falling asleep in the early hours. Plus once more on waking. I was so convinced it hadn't worked properly!
I got antsy sitting around the house so I decided to walk to the hospital. This may not have been the smartest plan in retrospect, but I was OK. Just hungry. I was nervous and it seemed an age before I was called in. It didn't help that the air con was broken in the waiting room. After a questionnaire they gave me a gown and dressing gown and ..... dignity shorts. I laughed out loud. They were navy blue and made out of papery stuff. One size fits all and it's a good job I'm fat at the minute because they hung off my hips and ended just above my knees. There was a flap at the back with velcro. Yes, really. They took me through to theatre and asked me if I knew what they were going to do to me. D'uh, yes! What exactly? They ask. You're sticking a camera where the sun don't shine, says I. And so they did. After plugging me in to the sedative and sticking some sort of giant cotton wool ball up my nose (I have no clue what that was). Memories are hazy but I recall seeing the screen and thinking it wasn't very attractive inside me. Very pink and tubular. I also recall some discomfort going around the bends, but no pain. Then it was done. I think I would have liked to have spent a bit longer lying down but I must have been compis mentis enough to satisfy criteria and they moved me to a changing cubicle where I had to sit up and drink coffee and eat bourbon biscuits before they would take the annoying canula out of my arm. Oh, alright then. They handed me my discharge sheets and left me to get changed before finally dumping me in the waiting room to wait for my friend to collect me. All done.
I was a bit spaced out for the rest of the day. It was like being on drugs. Well, I suppose I was! I did manage to watch Despicable Me 2 and the Free From Bake Off (useless!), but that was it.
I expected to feel normal again on Thursday but it was like having a hangover. I was so tired and nauseous. And also starving hungry. Yup, just like a hangover. I hoped to make it out in the evening for a short run and to collect my prescription, but that was soooo not happening.
Back to work on Friday and it took a few hours to wake up properly, then I felt fine for the rest of the day. Great, I can get a decent run in, I thought.... By the time I'd done a full day, collected my prescription and waited an age to get it filled at the chemist I was done in. No run for me.
Having done no proper training all week I thought I'd better do something useful on Saturday. So I took myself off to Gedling to reclaim my course record at the stupidly hilly parkrun. 20.46, the course record is mine again but jeez that is one hard course. I probably should have done an afternoon run but I was tired again having run a load of errands in the morning and then taking the cat to the vet in the afternoon.
Today was my last proper long run. 24 miles. I died a death in the last mile. Possibly related to the terrifying, sticky, black tinged with dark green poo that came out of me this morning. Totally freaked me out that did. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about as I'm back to my usual browny yellowy icky colour, albeit with a tinge of mid-green. Anyway, I'm treating that as a one off but monitoring. Life with IBS is such a treat.
A measly 45 miles for the week. It should have been 85.
Sunday 30 August 2015
An 80 mile week at last
It was scheduled for weeks ago, but I have finally hit 80 miles in a week. Next week is supposed to be bigger, but with the colonoscopy I can't be sure how much I'll be able to do. Every mile counts.
Monday - I was supposed to get up early for the usual 4 miles before work and 9 miles and Body Pump afterwards. I failed. I just did 10 miles in the evening and no Pump class.
Tuesday - I took my shiny new track spikes off to the track, excited to try them out, only to find that actually we weren't training there, but in Wollaton park. Poop. And it was my most hated session, the 3-2-1-3-2-1-3-2-1. I hate running for time rather than distance. With distance I can see the end and run faster to get there. With time if I run faster it will just hurt more, so I go too slow. And we got locked in so had to go the very long way round for my cool down. I was feeling decidedly light headed by the time I got back to the car.
Wednesday - I had a scare early in the MLR when I realised I wasn't really in control of my limbs and my vision wasn't quite right. It was a bit other-worldly. But after 5 minutes or so it went away and I was fine again. Very strange, but I got the full 16 miles in.
I was hungry on Thursday and ate more than usual, which makes it all the stranger that I had an even bigger scare. About two miles into what was supposed to be a 9 miler I got the same feelings as on Wednesday, but worse. It was as if I was in slow motion and the rest of the world had been slightly speeded up. I figured it would wear off again, but it didn't. At one stage I barely knew where I was. I knew enough to cut the run short and staggered into Tesco after 6.5 miles to buy dark chocolate. I didn't mean to, but I ate the whole 100g. Oops. It wasn't hunger. I think maybe it was iron as I'm not allowed to take iron tablets for the week before the colonoscopy.
On Friday I had beef for lunch! I had hoped to have a rest day but was short of a few miles from Monday and Thursday, so went to the gym to plod them out on the treadmill before heading to Tesco to buy boring, bland, white food.
Saturday was the mile and 5000m races at Harvey Hadden. I knew I wasn't in 5k pb shape, but thought the mile could be doable. There were 2 faster girls entered in the 5000 so I just jogged around to ensure 3rd place and a cheque for £30, saving my legs for the mile. It didn't work. I asked my legs to go faster and they told me to f*** off. I crossed the line frustrated but not especially out of breath. Grrrr.
Sunday - 23 miles with heavy legs, entertained by one powerboat race, two wedding parties and three dead vermin (rat, floating in canal, pigeon floating in canal, pigeon on canal path - delightful). I have spent the rest of the day eating very colourful food to offset the whiteness that is to come over the next two days of prescribed diet.
So 80 miles for the week. My insides haven't been too bad. I've had the usual alternating D and C and a little bleeding, and of course the terrible light headed episodes, but otherwise I've not felt so ill.
Monday - I was supposed to get up early for the usual 4 miles before work and 9 miles and Body Pump afterwards. I failed. I just did 10 miles in the evening and no Pump class.
Tuesday - I took my shiny new track spikes off to the track, excited to try them out, only to find that actually we weren't training there, but in Wollaton park. Poop. And it was my most hated session, the 3-2-1-3-2-1-3-2-1. I hate running for time rather than distance. With distance I can see the end and run faster to get there. With time if I run faster it will just hurt more, so I go too slow. And we got locked in so had to go the very long way round for my cool down. I was feeling decidedly light headed by the time I got back to the car.
Wednesday - I had a scare early in the MLR when I realised I wasn't really in control of my limbs and my vision wasn't quite right. It was a bit other-worldly. But after 5 minutes or so it went away and I was fine again. Very strange, but I got the full 16 miles in.
I was hungry on Thursday and ate more than usual, which makes it all the stranger that I had an even bigger scare. About two miles into what was supposed to be a 9 miler I got the same feelings as on Wednesday, but worse. It was as if I was in slow motion and the rest of the world had been slightly speeded up. I figured it would wear off again, but it didn't. At one stage I barely knew where I was. I knew enough to cut the run short and staggered into Tesco after 6.5 miles to buy dark chocolate. I didn't mean to, but I ate the whole 100g. Oops. It wasn't hunger. I think maybe it was iron as I'm not allowed to take iron tablets for the week before the colonoscopy.
On Friday I had beef for lunch! I had hoped to have a rest day but was short of a few miles from Monday and Thursday, so went to the gym to plod them out on the treadmill before heading to Tesco to buy boring, bland, white food.
Saturday was the mile and 5000m races at Harvey Hadden. I knew I wasn't in 5k pb shape, but thought the mile could be doable. There were 2 faster girls entered in the 5000 so I just jogged around to ensure 3rd place and a cheque for £30, saving my legs for the mile. It didn't work. I asked my legs to go faster and they told me to f*** off. I crossed the line frustrated but not especially out of breath. Grrrr.
Sunday - 23 miles with heavy legs, entertained by one powerboat race, two wedding parties and three dead vermin (rat, floating in canal, pigeon floating in canal, pigeon on canal path - delightful). I have spent the rest of the day eating very colourful food to offset the whiteness that is to come over the next two days of prescribed diet.
So 80 miles for the week. My insides haven't been too bad. I've had the usual alternating D and C and a little bleeding, and of course the terrible light headed episodes, but otherwise I've not felt so ill.
Wednesday 26 August 2015
I have a date!
No, not *that* kind of date.
You have to love the NHS, you hear nothing for weeks then they give you only a few days notice. Colonoscopy will be on Wednesday next week.
You have to love the NHS, you hear nothing for weeks then they give you only a few days notice. Colonoscopy will be on Wednesday next week.
Saturday 22 August 2015
Could it be magic?
The day after my last post was awful. I couldn't physically get out of bed until after 1pm and then I had such overwhelming fatigue that I was completely unable to do anything all afternoon. Just as I thought I was perking up a bit in the evening I was struck with a bout of explosive and watery D. The whole day was a write off.
I still had major mind fog and lingering fatigue on Sunday, but I was giving a friend a lift to the race so had no choice but to go. I was cold and tired and decided that unless it looked like I could win it, I'd just run within myself and try not to die. This was the Rugby Rover 30k. Another off-road race with lots of ascent, but rather better sign posted than the Dovedale Dipper and rather less extreme.
You have to set off fast to avoid congestion on the gate and single track path, so I did, and found myself in second place behind a bird-like lady with a bouncing back pack. A girl in a Trentham vest I'd seen warming up earlier was behind me somewhere. I'd picked her rather than the bird-like woman as the main competition.
We reached the first big hill and I opted to walk it to save energy. Trentham vest came past me here and birdy got a bit ahead too. On the flat at the top however I easily passed birdy. Trentham was showing no signs of tiredness though. I kept up the pace in the hopes that Trentham might also tire, but by 10k I knew I wasn't going to catch her so I eased off. I was feeling more alive by this point in time but knowing the win wasn't going to happen I wanted to save my legs for training.
Sure enough, I finished in 2nd place. I was looking forward to my bag full of random crap that my friend Katie had won in a previous year for 3rd place, but it turns out there are new organisers and there was no prize for 2nd. Boo, hiss.
I was rather tired on Monday and only made it to the gym in time for 3 miles before work. Doing 10 afterwards meant I missed Body Pump. I felt generally unwell all day and had massive distention in the lower abdomen. Finally at 9pm I was able to 'go' for the first time since Saturday night's D. It was so hard and large it made me bleed.
Tuesday - I woke up bloated and it just got worse and worse. Until I turned into the Endless Poop Machine in the afternoon. I must have gone 8 or more times, and for a large volume each time. By the evening I was feeling much better, and the track session was back on our own track (newly reopened after refurbishment), which made me happy. The downside though is that I have way less time to warm up and cool down due to travelling and them locking up. I completed the full session of 2 x 1000m, 2 x 800m and 1 x 400m but it only came to 5 miles with WU and CD.
Also on Tuesday, my Symprove arrived.
Wednesday - I woke up feeling better than I have done for a while so can't attribute it to Symprove. I took my first dose just before leaving the house for work. Bleurgh. It smells grim and tastes like the taste you have in your mouth after you've been sick. And you can't eat or drink for 10 mins after taking it. I felt fine all day and had no issues during my 15 mile evening run.
Thursday - I had one brief bout of cramp, but otherwise it was another good day. It was also a rest day so involved doing the grocery shopping only.
Friday - I realised that if I take the Symprove immediately on waking then I can brush my teeth 10 mins later to get rid of the taste. And I still get to have my morning Espresso. Win. I felt well again all day. The evening run did involve a couple of cramps, but nothing that involved stopping or hiding in a bush.
Saturday - A waver perhaps? I slept until 1pm again, but maybe I was just sleepy. I watched Mo Farah win the 10000m in Beijing before heading out for a recovery run. It was hot. Where did that come from? It's been cold and rainy for days! I had to stop to buy a bottle of water I was so parched!
Hopefully I'll make it out of bed at a reasonable time tomorrow for a 22 mile long run to bring up 75 miles for the week. If I do it, it will be the first decent mileage week I've run in the whole marathon build up, and time is running away from me so it is much needed.
I still had major mind fog and lingering fatigue on Sunday, but I was giving a friend a lift to the race so had no choice but to go. I was cold and tired and decided that unless it looked like I could win it, I'd just run within myself and try not to die. This was the Rugby Rover 30k. Another off-road race with lots of ascent, but rather better sign posted than the Dovedale Dipper and rather less extreme.
You have to set off fast to avoid congestion on the gate and single track path, so I did, and found myself in second place behind a bird-like lady with a bouncing back pack. A girl in a Trentham vest I'd seen warming up earlier was behind me somewhere. I'd picked her rather than the bird-like woman as the main competition.
We reached the first big hill and I opted to walk it to save energy. Trentham vest came past me here and birdy got a bit ahead too. On the flat at the top however I easily passed birdy. Trentham was showing no signs of tiredness though. I kept up the pace in the hopes that Trentham might also tire, but by 10k I knew I wasn't going to catch her so I eased off. I was feeling more alive by this point in time but knowing the win wasn't going to happen I wanted to save my legs for training.
Sure enough, I finished in 2nd place. I was looking forward to my bag full of random crap that my friend Katie had won in a previous year for 3rd place, but it turns out there are new organisers and there was no prize for 2nd. Boo, hiss.
I was rather tired on Monday and only made it to the gym in time for 3 miles before work. Doing 10 afterwards meant I missed Body Pump. I felt generally unwell all day and had massive distention in the lower abdomen. Finally at 9pm I was able to 'go' for the first time since Saturday night's D. It was so hard and large it made me bleed.
Tuesday - I woke up bloated and it just got worse and worse. Until I turned into the Endless Poop Machine in the afternoon. I must have gone 8 or more times, and for a large volume each time. By the evening I was feeling much better, and the track session was back on our own track (newly reopened after refurbishment), which made me happy. The downside though is that I have way less time to warm up and cool down due to travelling and them locking up. I completed the full session of 2 x 1000m, 2 x 800m and 1 x 400m but it only came to 5 miles with WU and CD.
Also on Tuesday, my Symprove arrived.
Wednesday - I woke up feeling better than I have done for a while so can't attribute it to Symprove. I took my first dose just before leaving the house for work. Bleurgh. It smells grim and tastes like the taste you have in your mouth after you've been sick. And you can't eat or drink for 10 mins after taking it. I felt fine all day and had no issues during my 15 mile evening run.
Thursday - I had one brief bout of cramp, but otherwise it was another good day. It was also a rest day so involved doing the grocery shopping only.
Friday - I realised that if I take the Symprove immediately on waking then I can brush my teeth 10 mins later to get rid of the taste. And I still get to have my morning Espresso. Win. I felt well again all day. The evening run did involve a couple of cramps, but nothing that involved stopping or hiding in a bush.
Saturday - A waver perhaps? I slept until 1pm again, but maybe I was just sleepy. I watched Mo Farah win the 10000m in Beijing before heading out for a recovery run. It was hot. Where did that come from? It's been cold and rainy for days! I had to stop to buy a bottle of water I was so parched!
Hopefully I'll make it out of bed at a reasonable time tomorrow for a 22 mile long run to bring up 75 miles for the week. If I do it, it will be the first decent mileage week I've run in the whole marathon build up, and time is running away from me so it is much needed.
Saturday 15 August 2015
Throw money at it?
I need my life back. I'm still waiting on a date for the colonscopy, but the GI consultant doesn't think it will show anything anyway. So I need to take matters into my own hands.
I have been reading up and there are two top options, both of which are expensive. Acupuncture supposedly has some great results, and Symprove, which cured 1 in 3 IBS sufferers in the clinical trials (but made no difference whatsoever to 1 in 3 - the other 1 in three saw 'some' improvement).
Any thoughts?
http://www.theibsnetwork.org/the-self-care-plan/therapies/acupuncture/
http://www.symprove.com/
I have been reading up and there are two top options, both of which are expensive. Acupuncture supposedly has some great results, and Symprove, which cured 1 in 3 IBS sufferers in the clinical trials (but made no difference whatsoever to 1 in 3 - the other 1 in three saw 'some' improvement).
Any thoughts?
http://www.theibsnetwork.org/the-self-care-plan/therapies/acupuncture/
http://www.symprove.com/
Friday 14 August 2015
We Are The Champions!
I’m having some internet issues at home, so posting is a
little delayed.
Sunday was the UK Women’s League (Division 1) fixture in
Wigan. A double header with Division 3, which makes for a very long day but
does have the benefit of including Katarina Johnson Thompson who competes for
Liverpool I think. Our division has Seren Bundy Davies competing, but our very own GB youngster Charlotte McLennaghan took her down. It’s great to
see the GB athletes turning out for club fixtures.
I picked up one of our youngsters an inflicted my music on
her for the 2 and a half hour journey cross country. Eating was a nightmare. I
wanted to eat my 'safe' packed lunch 3 hours before my event, but there was absolutely nowhere to stop
on the A50. I had to wait until the first service station on the M6, by which
time it was just over 2 hours before my event, and only an hour and a half
before I needed to start warming up. Not surprisingly this did not go well. I
was gurgling and churning throughout the warm up and felt nauseous to boot.
I was hoping to run a marginal PB and had the splits written
on my hand. I was right on target for the first four laps but I was out in
no-mans land and just couldn’t hold the pace with no windbreak and no-one
within chasing distance. I faded badly and ended with a very disappointing
11.09 and second to last place.
However, every point counts and I still scored 5 of them as
not all clubs had a B string runner, so I did contribute to our team winning
the match and also the entire league. Promotion to the Premier Division is
ours!
Monday was just an average Monday. I made it out of bed
early enough to go to the gym for my 4 mile recovery run, then it was back to
the gym in the evening for another 9 miles and Body Pump class.
Tuesday should have been a nice easy 8 miler, but I was
struck down. Stupid, stupid IBS. I’d ‘been’ before I left the house, and it had
been rather a lengthy stay. Needless to say it was therefore a surprise to find
myself cramping up. I had to stop and walk/shuffle with my cheeks clenched
until I made it to the local leisure centre, where there such ludicrous volume
of cow-pat style explosion that I fear I actually blocked their loo! Just imagine
if there hadn’t been a handy leisure centre. What on earth would I have
done????
Not entirely surprisingly I had cramps all morning on
Wednesday and had to take Buscopan. Then just after 5pm I had more loose and
urgent movements, so I popped some Loperamide. Bad plan. I had a race that
evening and was trying to avoid a repeat of the first Summer League Fixture
where I near ground to a halt mid race for fear of explosion. There could be no
explosion of course, but instead I had horrendous cramps and such stabbing pain
under my sternum that I could barely breathe. I went from hoping to finish
first to accepting 4th place, until the only girl who could possibly
overtake me in the overall standings came up on my shoulder with maybe half a
mile to go. Fight or flight kicked in and I pushed on, leaving her behind and
also passing the two Worksop girls I’d allowed to pass me earlier. I crossed
the line in agony and had to go and hide behind a little outbuilding for a
while. So I finished second in the race and maintained my second place over
all. The disaster of a first race meant I needed some sort of miracle to win
the league this year. I did win my age category, but that’s small consolation
when the over all winner is actually in an OLDER category. Ah well. We also
failed to get a strong team out and only finished second team, having gone into
this final race with a decent margin.
I was up multiple times during the night with cramps and so
on. So I was desperately tired on Thursday and had to take a rest day.
Today marks the 50 day countdown to the marathon and involved a 15 mile MLR in near darkness. At 6pm in August. Got to love the British 'Summer'.
Saturday 8 August 2015
Falling well short of target
More Saturday bloggage as I'll be back late tomorrow night.
This week has been pretty much a write off as far as training goes. Not so great on the 'other' side either. Except for Monday, when I randomly felt healthy for the first time in months. I wasn't fatigued, my stomach didn't cramp, no dizziness, no light headedness, no nausea, no running to the loo and very little distention. Despite running 27 very hilly miles the day before. My legs were in agony though!
Back to normal on Tuesday, and with 'Tuesday Legs' to boot.
Wednesday - I meant to do some proper running, I really did. But I got home to my delivery from Musclefood and had to spend an age filling the freezer with lovely lean meat, and cooking a load of it too. So I only ran 4 miles on my home treadmill.
Thursday - A bit of a disaster of a day. Life intervened. I did get 5 miles done though.
Friday - My long awaited appointment with the consultant. I felt rubbish all day and when he told me my results had all come back 'normal' I nearly cried. That means there's still no solution to this. I made him read last week's blog. He didn't seem too bothered. He did refer me for a colonscopy though, and sent me home with a set of instructions for the laxative. It all sounds a bit grim. I have to take this laxative drink starting from 4pm the day before, and from that moment on I can basically expect to be sitting on the loo for the next twelve hours. For two days before the procedure I can only eat boiled chicken, boiled or steamed white fish and potatoes with no skin. Supposedly I can also have white bread, butter, eggs and rich tea biscuits, but I already know I have major intolerance to dairy and eggs and the GI doc told me not to eat wheat, so I really don't know what to do there. I'm supposed to be escorted home (that'll be by a taxi driver) and have someone with me at home for 24 hours afterwards (right, cos no-one has jobs to go to. That'll be the cat, then.). And I can't drive for 24 hours either. I will go insane! Just waiting on the date to come through.
Saturday - Paced parkrun again and this time I made it in on time with no Garmin error! 24.50 and at least one very happy fella with a shiny new PB.
Tomorrow I have to drive all the way to Wigan to run for (hopefully) less than 11 minutes, hang around for a team photo then drive all the way back again. If we get promoted it will be worth it! I'm just praying I don't get roped into the steeplechase again.
Mileage for the week was scheduled to be 50, but will actually be about 20.
This week has been pretty much a write off as far as training goes. Not so great on the 'other' side either. Except for Monday, when I randomly felt healthy for the first time in months. I wasn't fatigued, my stomach didn't cramp, no dizziness, no light headedness, no nausea, no running to the loo and very little distention. Despite running 27 very hilly miles the day before. My legs were in agony though!
Back to normal on Tuesday, and with 'Tuesday Legs' to boot.
Wednesday - I meant to do some proper running, I really did. But I got home to my delivery from Musclefood and had to spend an age filling the freezer with lovely lean meat, and cooking a load of it too. So I only ran 4 miles on my home treadmill.
Thursday - A bit of a disaster of a day. Life intervened. I did get 5 miles done though.
Friday - My long awaited appointment with the consultant. I felt rubbish all day and when he told me my results had all come back 'normal' I nearly cried. That means there's still no solution to this. I made him read last week's blog. He didn't seem too bothered. He did refer me for a colonscopy though, and sent me home with a set of instructions for the laxative. It all sounds a bit grim. I have to take this laxative drink starting from 4pm the day before, and from that moment on I can basically expect to be sitting on the loo for the next twelve hours. For two days before the procedure I can only eat boiled chicken, boiled or steamed white fish and potatoes with no skin. Supposedly I can also have white bread, butter, eggs and rich tea biscuits, but I already know I have major intolerance to dairy and eggs and the GI doc told me not to eat wheat, so I really don't know what to do there. I'm supposed to be escorted home (that'll be by a taxi driver) and have someone with me at home for 24 hours afterwards (right, cos no-one has jobs to go to. That'll be the cat, then.). And I can't drive for 24 hours either. I will go insane! Just waiting on the date to come through.
Saturday - Paced parkrun again and this time I made it in on time with no Garmin error! 24.50 and at least one very happy fella with a shiny new PB.
Tomorrow I have to drive all the way to Wigan to run for (hopefully) less than 11 minutes, hang around for a team photo then drive all the way back again. If we get promoted it will be worth it! I'm just praying I don't get roped into the steeplechase again.
Mileage for the week was scheduled to be 50, but will actually be about 20.
Tuesday 4 August 2015
Dovedale Dipper
I'm really not quite sure why I thought it would be a good idea to enter a very, very hilly, offroad marathon. Perhaps just the general lack of longer distance races in summer for variety of training. Who knows?!
It was with some trepidation that I lined up at 10am outside a village hall in a little village by the name of Hartington. The journey there had involved twists and turns and some almighty hills, so I had an idea of what was coming. I was armed with tissues, Imodium, Gaviscon and Buscopan, oh, and a few gels and a print out of the directions.
The first few miles were easy, just follow that chap in the brown vest ahead, he clearly knows where he's going. Sadly he got away after checkpoint 2, and that was the first 'navigational error'. I was not alone, but Mr Heanor Vest didn't know the route either. We soon found it though, and soon found the promised gorse plantation. I really thought there'd be a path, or at least a track, but no, you had to just fight your way through thigh deep gorse bushes. And then there was a mighty mighty hill. I think this was where I lost Mr Heanor Vest.
The next navigational issue came where the instructions read 'go diagonally across field' without specifying *which* field. Luckily by then I was running with Mr Ultra Runner who had a GPS thingie on his phone. This also came in handy two more times when it really wasn't clear where we were supposed to be going.
Then there was the descent from hell. Note to self - road racing flats are not ideal shoes for rocky, muddy, slippery, near vertical drops. I swore a bit. OK, a lot.
I'd lost Mr Ultra Runner on that as I was so slow, but once I'd asked for directions at a junction in the road (go North - er OK, which way is that?) I caught him again on the flat. After the last checkpoint there was a nice long flat stretch and I left Mr Ultra Runner and navigated the rest on my own. The directions were bobbins but I finally got to the finish (inside the village hall!) after 27.3 miles and 4 hours 27 minutes. I was first lady and I (eventually) received a cut crystal glass on a plinth for my efforts. Novel. Makes a change from the naff trophies!
My insides didn't trouble me all day, nor did they on Monday. I was so overjoyed to feel so well and normal that I'd have done a little dance, if only my legs would cooperate. Sadly today normal service in the ill health department was resumed. Perhaps because I didn't go out for a crazy long run ;)
It was with some trepidation that I lined up at 10am outside a village hall in a little village by the name of Hartington. The journey there had involved twists and turns and some almighty hills, so I had an idea of what was coming. I was armed with tissues, Imodium, Gaviscon and Buscopan, oh, and a few gels and a print out of the directions.
The first few miles were easy, just follow that chap in the brown vest ahead, he clearly knows where he's going. Sadly he got away after checkpoint 2, and that was the first 'navigational error'. I was not alone, but Mr Heanor Vest didn't know the route either. We soon found it though, and soon found the promised gorse plantation. I really thought there'd be a path, or at least a track, but no, you had to just fight your way through thigh deep gorse bushes. And then there was a mighty mighty hill. I think this was where I lost Mr Heanor Vest.
The next navigational issue came where the instructions read 'go diagonally across field' without specifying *which* field. Luckily by then I was running with Mr Ultra Runner who had a GPS thingie on his phone. This also came in handy two more times when it really wasn't clear where we were supposed to be going.
Then there was the descent from hell. Note to self - road racing flats are not ideal shoes for rocky, muddy, slippery, near vertical drops. I swore a bit. OK, a lot.
I'd lost Mr Ultra Runner on that as I was so slow, but once I'd asked for directions at a junction in the road (go North - er OK, which way is that?) I caught him again on the flat. After the last checkpoint there was a nice long flat stretch and I left Mr Ultra Runner and navigated the rest on my own. The directions were bobbins but I finally got to the finish (inside the village hall!) after 27.3 miles and 4 hours 27 minutes. I was first lady and I (eventually) received a cut crystal glass on a plinth for my efforts. Novel. Makes a change from the naff trophies!
My insides didn't trouble me all day, nor did they on Monday. I was so overjoyed to feel so well and normal that I'd have done a little dance, if only my legs would cooperate. Sadly today normal service in the ill health department was resumed. Perhaps because I didn't go out for a crazy long run ;)
Saturday 1 August 2015
A miserable and self pitying blog
I'm writing this now (Saturday evening) because I have big plans for tomorrow that I expect to leave me rather too tired to write.
This has not been a good week at all.
On Monday I just could not get out of bed for my morning workout. This is not laziness, sleepiness or CNBA, this is genuine, cannot move, fatigue. Despite only running about 7 miles the day before. I was groggy and full of mind fog all day at work too. Once I got going on the treadmill I felt more like myself and decided to add the missed morning miles to my evening run, sacrificing Body Pump class.
Tuesday seemed better on the whole, until about five to five pm when I was struck with a bout of cramps. I got to the gym (where I get changed for my track session) and barely made it through the door. I took Buscopan and Imodium. I got through my track session with only another three emergency visits.
On Wednesday I felt awful. I was nauseous for most of the day. It comes in waves, but they were frequent and horrible. I got home and went straight to bed, not waking until the alarm went off on Thursday.
The grogginess may have been down to the excess sleep, but there was cramping too. I forced myself out of the door for my planned tempo run, but it did not go to plan. I couldn't hit HMP and within 2 miles of the faster section I was in pain. I made it to three miles before having to stop and reduce to a shuffle until I found a secluded bush to hide in. Nothing actually doing though, just air. By now I haven't 'been' since the D on Tuesday. One more mile and I hit my previous HMP for that one, but cut the cooldown short because I was in pain.
Friday was more of the same really. Waves of nausea, cramp, fatigue. I got home and relief came in the form of a massive amount of poop. The fluffy, cow pat type. Oh the relief, but I wasn't quite done, apparently. I had to dive into a bush on my run and the whole run was slow and a massive effort. Again the mileage was lower than it was supposed to be as I blew up like a balloon and it was too painful to carry on.
Today I awoke feeling really poorly. I couldn't get up for parkrun. In fact it was nearly 10 am when I finally surfaced. I ate breakfast then felt even worse. Eventually I made it out for a run and within 4 minutes I was in pain. I arrived at the vets to pick up my cat's medication feeling shaky, sweaty and like I really needed the loo. But I had to get home again. So once again, the mileage was short. I have seriously had enough of this. I'm not enjoying the one thing that usually gives me the most satisfaction in life, and I'm hating work. Resenting being there when I'm in pain and feeling like I might throw up, poop myself, pass out or all three at once.
This has not been a good week at all.
On Monday I just could not get out of bed for my morning workout. This is not laziness, sleepiness or CNBA, this is genuine, cannot move, fatigue. Despite only running about 7 miles the day before. I was groggy and full of mind fog all day at work too. Once I got going on the treadmill I felt more like myself and decided to add the missed morning miles to my evening run, sacrificing Body Pump class.
Tuesday seemed better on the whole, until about five to five pm when I was struck with a bout of cramps. I got to the gym (where I get changed for my track session) and barely made it through the door. I took Buscopan and Imodium. I got through my track session with only another three emergency visits.
On Wednesday I felt awful. I was nauseous for most of the day. It comes in waves, but they were frequent and horrible. I got home and went straight to bed, not waking until the alarm went off on Thursday.
The grogginess may have been down to the excess sleep, but there was cramping too. I forced myself out of the door for my planned tempo run, but it did not go to plan. I couldn't hit HMP and within 2 miles of the faster section I was in pain. I made it to three miles before having to stop and reduce to a shuffle until I found a secluded bush to hide in. Nothing actually doing though, just air. By now I haven't 'been' since the D on Tuesday. One more mile and I hit my previous HMP for that one, but cut the cooldown short because I was in pain.
Friday was more of the same really. Waves of nausea, cramp, fatigue. I got home and relief came in the form of a massive amount of poop. The fluffy, cow pat type. Oh the relief, but I wasn't quite done, apparently. I had to dive into a bush on my run and the whole run was slow and a massive effort. Again the mileage was lower than it was supposed to be as I blew up like a balloon and it was too painful to carry on.
Today I awoke feeling really poorly. I couldn't get up for parkrun. In fact it was nearly 10 am when I finally surfaced. I ate breakfast then felt even worse. Eventually I made it out for a run and within 4 minutes I was in pain. I arrived at the vets to pick up my cat's medication feeling shaky, sweaty and like I really needed the loo. But I had to get home again. So once again, the mileage was short. I have seriously had enough of this. I'm not enjoying the one thing that usually gives me the most satisfaction in life, and I'm hating work. Resenting being there when I'm in pain and feeling like I might throw up, poop myself, pass out or all three at once.
Sunday 26 July 2015
A National Medal, part 2
So, where was I? Ah yes, much to my surprise I actually finished 3rd in my age group. Some of those 'old girls' look pretty damn good for their age is all I can say. I think I was 6th over all. Anyway, I got a nice bronze medal for my efforts.
I was a few miles short for the week since it was too wet to do much more of a cool down than I did, but it was still over 70 miles.
A National Medal!
Week 6 of marathon training is in the bag.
Monday was 4 on the treadmill in the gym in the morning (rather than at home) because I needed a little more time to feel up to it. The gym is close to work. The evening was 9 miles on the treadmill followed by Body Pump class and my first attempt at the new release. Legs were easy, arms not so much. I had some horrific bloating in the evening.
Tuesday - I felt really unwell all morning. Just really fatigued and a bit crampy. I perked up later on though. I felt quite good at the start of my track session, which was scheduled as 3 x 1k, 3 x 800m, 6 x 150m. I got faster on each km, but the first 800m was a slower pace and as soon as I crossed the line I had to run to the loo. Session aborted.
Wednesday - I had to get up really early for a work trip to London, and I was really poorly. In fact I was late arriving due to having to rush back to the loo. Being last to arrive meant I had to travel backwards. OMG. I thought I was going to pass out. I had to close my eyes for most of the journey. The day was long and, while better than being in the office, not especially interesting. I did at least get to face the right way for the drive back up.
Thursday - a steady/slow 10, trying to save my legs.
Friday - Took a day's leave from work to run 24 miles. I really know how to live don't I? Actually got some company for the first 11, which made a refreshing change. I felt really good on the run, other than being soaked through. Summer has definitely deserted us.
Saturday - I paced 25 minutes at parkrun. I myself didn't get under 25, but most of my pacees did, which is the important thing. I was a little too reliant on the Garmin and it measured long. I've done Colwick 36 times now, and that's the first time I've measured it long. Typical! Warm up, cool down and an afternoon recovery plod gave me 10 for the day.
Sunday - British Masters Track Champs at Alexander Stadium. By the time I arrived the weather was looking distinctly soggy and I really wasn't in the mood for getting wet. Again. Ah well. It was a bit posher than other events I've done on the track and involved registering, declaring and reporting to a Call Room. My warm up was really short due to this, and also the rain. We were led out to the track with a few minutes to spare and it was bliddy freezing! Then, with very little todo, we were off. My plan was to run 90 seconds per lap and fortuitously the girl in front of me was doing just that. Like a metronome she was. I kept up until about 3 laps to go, then I started feeling the mileage in my legs. I came out with 18.49.xx TBC as there appears to be a word limit.....
Monday was 4 on the treadmill in the gym in the morning (rather than at home) because I needed a little more time to feel up to it. The gym is close to work. The evening was 9 miles on the treadmill followed by Body Pump class and my first attempt at the new release. Legs were easy, arms not so much. I had some horrific bloating in the evening.
Tuesday - I felt really unwell all morning. Just really fatigued and a bit crampy. I perked up later on though. I felt quite good at the start of my track session, which was scheduled as 3 x 1k, 3 x 800m, 6 x 150m. I got faster on each km, but the first 800m was a slower pace and as soon as I crossed the line I had to run to the loo. Session aborted.
Wednesday - I had to get up really early for a work trip to London, and I was really poorly. In fact I was late arriving due to having to rush back to the loo. Being last to arrive meant I had to travel backwards. OMG. I thought I was going to pass out. I had to close my eyes for most of the journey. The day was long and, while better than being in the office, not especially interesting. I did at least get to face the right way for the drive back up.
Thursday - a steady/slow 10, trying to save my legs.
Friday - Took a day's leave from work to run 24 miles. I really know how to live don't I? Actually got some company for the first 11, which made a refreshing change. I felt really good on the run, other than being soaked through. Summer has definitely deserted us.
Saturday - I paced 25 minutes at parkrun. I myself didn't get under 25, but most of my pacees did, which is the important thing. I was a little too reliant on the Garmin and it measured long. I've done Colwick 36 times now, and that's the first time I've measured it long. Typical! Warm up, cool down and an afternoon recovery plod gave me 10 for the day.
Sunday - British Masters Track Champs at Alexander Stadium. By the time I arrived the weather was looking distinctly soggy and I really wasn't in the mood for getting wet. Again. Ah well. It was a bit posher than other events I've done on the track and involved registering, declaring and reporting to a Call Room. My warm up was really short due to this, and also the rain. We were led out to the track with a few minutes to spare and it was bliddy freezing! Then, with very little todo, we were off. My plan was to run 90 seconds per lap and fortuitously the girl in front of me was doing just that. Like a metronome she was. I kept up until about 3 laps to go, then I started feeling the mileage in my legs. I came out with 18.49.xx TBC as there appears to be a word limit.....
Wednesday 22 July 2015
Summoned
I came home to today to a letter marked Private and Confidential. A letter from the hospital with an appointment for a follow up with the GI consultant. He said he'd only do that if they found something in the tests. I'm a bit scared, but on the other hand, if they found something that isn't IBS then maybe, just maybe, it's fixable. *crosses fingers and toes*
The appointment isn't until 7th August, so presumably I'm not dying ;)
The appointment isn't until 7th August, so presumably I'm not dying ;)
Sunday 19 July 2015
Fighting Fatigue
Monday - dragged myself out of bed for four miles on the treadmill. In the evening I got through my 9 miles but was secretly pleased I'd had to wait to get on a machine (something I was promised would never be an issue when I joined the gym!) meaning that by the time I finished my scheduled run it was too late to go to Body Pump.
Tuesday - driving home from work I could barely keep my eyes open. I was half way through getting changed for an easy run (ie work clothes were off and running kit was not yet on!) when the need to lie down won out. I'll just shut my eyes for two minutes I thought to myself. Two hours later I woke up feeling groggy. Run missed.
Wednesday - Summer League race at Worksop. Phenomenally stupid distance of 4.89 miles. I won, but only because the fast girls didn't turn up. The pace was rubbish. Afterwards I had distention in the upper part of my stomach but otherwise got away without issues.
Thursday - 10 mile MLR that felt OK.
Friday - I kept the scheduled rest day despite having already had one this week. I was tired again and knew I had a big weekend coming up.
Saturday - Up early for a 22 miler including a potter round Colwick parkrun. It was fine. I was strong and only fatigued at the very end when I got bored of running round in little circles to make up the distance. Then I had some errands to run and stuff to do and, and, and....
Sunday - I got up early for a recovery run but couldn't keep my eyes open so went back to bed. I woke up again at midday. I had the Masters Inter Area Match 3000m in Solihull in the afternoon and I knew it wasn't going to be great, but I hadn't expected it to be quite *that* bad. In order to avoid having to run into the headwind every lap I tucked in behind the leaders, but their pace was a bit too hot for me, and with 3 laps, or maybe it was 4, to go the girl in second moved up to the front and took it on. I couldn't handle the pace and faded badly. I still finished third, but in a really slow time of 11.02, a whole ten seconds slower than two weeks ago.
So, lots of sleeping done, and not enough miles. 10 miles short of target for the week. I can't help but wonder if the fatigue is down to the diet. This FODMAP elimination is hard work and I just end up eating chocolate or Free From sweet things that I wouldn't have bothered with in the past. I need to stop faffing on the internet so much, get more sleep, and eat more real food.
Tuesday - driving home from work I could barely keep my eyes open. I was half way through getting changed for an easy run (ie work clothes were off and running kit was not yet on!) when the need to lie down won out. I'll just shut my eyes for two minutes I thought to myself. Two hours later I woke up feeling groggy. Run missed.
Wednesday - Summer League race at Worksop. Phenomenally stupid distance of 4.89 miles. I won, but only because the fast girls didn't turn up. The pace was rubbish. Afterwards I had distention in the upper part of my stomach but otherwise got away without issues.
Thursday - 10 mile MLR that felt OK.
Friday - I kept the scheduled rest day despite having already had one this week. I was tired again and knew I had a big weekend coming up.
Saturday - Up early for a 22 miler including a potter round Colwick parkrun. It was fine. I was strong and only fatigued at the very end when I got bored of running round in little circles to make up the distance. Then I had some errands to run and stuff to do and, and, and....
Sunday - I got up early for a recovery run but couldn't keep my eyes open so went back to bed. I woke up again at midday. I had the Masters Inter Area Match 3000m in Solihull in the afternoon and I knew it wasn't going to be great, but I hadn't expected it to be quite *that* bad. In order to avoid having to run into the headwind every lap I tucked in behind the leaders, but their pace was a bit too hot for me, and with 3 laps, or maybe it was 4, to go the girl in second moved up to the front and took it on. I couldn't handle the pace and faded badly. I still finished third, but in a really slow time of 11.02, a whole ten seconds slower than two weeks ago.
So, lots of sleeping done, and not enough miles. 10 miles short of target for the week. I can't help but wonder if the fatigue is down to the diet. This FODMAP elimination is hard work and I just end up eating chocolate or Free From sweet things that I wouldn't have bothered with in the past. I need to stop faffing on the internet so much, get more sleep, and eat more real food.
Sunday 12 July 2015
Week 4 comes with a TMI warning
This has not been a good week. I've felt generally poorly for most of it on top of the usual issues.
Monday - it was a cutback week, so no morning run. Evening 9 miler and Body Pump were fine.
Tuesday - I felt weak and headachey in the morning. Not sore from the work out, just like I had no strength. I was surprised by having to produce a large volume of poo when I went to the gym to get changed. I didn't know it was needed, if you know what I mean. I felt nicely emptied after it though. It was blowing a gale at the track so we had a short session of 600, 400, 200 x 2. They felt ok but I'm sure they were slow. Then just a short distance into the cool down I was struck by the very, very urgent need to go and had to dart back to the clubhouse for bad noise, bad smells and another large amount.
Wednesday - In the morning I felt rubbish. Cramping in my stomach, light-headed... Dehydration perhaps. The evening run ended up a bit long at 11 miles and ended in a dash up the stairs to the bathroom only to produce nothing but air.
Thursday - Felt awful in the morning again, same as yesterday. Perked up a bit later on but not enough to contemplate swapping my planned Friday run to tonight.
Friday - I now haven't moved my bowels since Tuesday night. I am bloated and the brain fog has gotten ridiculous. I don't know how much longer I can hold up my 'game face' at work. I'm pretty sure it slips from time to time anyway, but I'm making a real effort to engage and laugh and generally not sound like I feel like utter shite. I had a friend visiting for parkrun and didn't want to be out on the roads when he arrived so I did my 6 mile easy run on my treadmill. Note to self - turn off the lights, they're bliddy boiling!
Saturday - My cat scared the life out of me by pretending to be dead. She slept downstairs in the ex-living room with my friend rather than in my bed with me. She's a bit of a tart really. I came downstairs to find her on the sofa and sat down next to her. She didn't move. I stroked her and she felt like a dead weight. My heart was in my mouth. It took a while to rouse her and I had to shake her pretty hard. One day that will happen and she won't rouse. I am so not ready for that day. Anyway, after that horror and some breakfast I was finally able to 'go' again, and it was a massive amount of cow pat style fluffy poo.
We went to Long Eaton parkrun because it's flat and wouldn't aggravate Ste's niggles. I needed to run hard since I'd otherwise have done a hard session on the Friday night. My stupid Garmin died but Ste lent me his so I could pace for sub 20 to take the course record. It was over all pace though, and I could have used lap pace really. As it was I didn't realise just how badly I slowed down. I got about 10seconds slower each mile. Finished in 19.36, which is a bit meh really. In week 6 of Spring marathon training I ran 18.42.
Sunday - 18 miles. This was a short long run, but it felt like hard work for some reason.
60 miles and I feel more tired than after a 75 mile week.
Monday - it was a cutback week, so no morning run. Evening 9 miler and Body Pump were fine.
Tuesday - I felt weak and headachey in the morning. Not sore from the work out, just like I had no strength. I was surprised by having to produce a large volume of poo when I went to the gym to get changed. I didn't know it was needed, if you know what I mean. I felt nicely emptied after it though. It was blowing a gale at the track so we had a short session of 600, 400, 200 x 2. They felt ok but I'm sure they were slow. Then just a short distance into the cool down I was struck by the very, very urgent need to go and had to dart back to the clubhouse for bad noise, bad smells and another large amount.
Wednesday - In the morning I felt rubbish. Cramping in my stomach, light-headed... Dehydration perhaps. The evening run ended up a bit long at 11 miles and ended in a dash up the stairs to the bathroom only to produce nothing but air.
Thursday - Felt awful in the morning again, same as yesterday. Perked up a bit later on but not enough to contemplate swapping my planned Friday run to tonight.
Friday - I now haven't moved my bowels since Tuesday night. I am bloated and the brain fog has gotten ridiculous. I don't know how much longer I can hold up my 'game face' at work. I'm pretty sure it slips from time to time anyway, but I'm making a real effort to engage and laugh and generally not sound like I feel like utter shite. I had a friend visiting for parkrun and didn't want to be out on the roads when he arrived so I did my 6 mile easy run on my treadmill. Note to self - turn off the lights, they're bliddy boiling!
Saturday - My cat scared the life out of me by pretending to be dead. She slept downstairs in the ex-living room with my friend rather than in my bed with me. She's a bit of a tart really. I came downstairs to find her on the sofa and sat down next to her. She didn't move. I stroked her and she felt like a dead weight. My heart was in my mouth. It took a while to rouse her and I had to shake her pretty hard. One day that will happen and she won't rouse. I am so not ready for that day. Anyway, after that horror and some breakfast I was finally able to 'go' again, and it was a massive amount of cow pat style fluffy poo.
We went to Long Eaton parkrun because it's flat and wouldn't aggravate Ste's niggles. I needed to run hard since I'd otherwise have done a hard session on the Friday night. My stupid Garmin died but Ste lent me his so I could pace for sub 20 to take the course record. It was over all pace though, and I could have used lap pace really. As it was I didn't realise just how badly I slowed down. I got about 10seconds slower each mile. Finished in 19.36, which is a bit meh really. In week 6 of Spring marathon training I ran 18.42.
Sunday - 18 miles. This was a short long run, but it felt like hard work for some reason.
60 miles and I feel more tired than after a 75 mile week.
Sunday 5 July 2015
Indirect Proportion
Week 3 of training for the Chester Marathon.
The quality of my running this week has been in indirect proportion to the number on the thermometer (at least, if I'm remembering my maths/science terms correctly it was!). On Monday I was so tired I couldn't get out of bed for my morning run. Not a great start! The evening run and Body Pump were fine though.
The mercury started to rise on Tuesday and my form started to fall. I had to drop out of the track session after three 1k reps at a pace slower than my 3k race pace. I got halfway through the first 600m rep that followed and threw in the towel. I jogged that one out then skipped the next one. My club mate carried on but the heat took its toll on her and she passed out cold after the last rep, which was a little frightening to be honest. Luckily we had a medic on hand. A midwife, so it made a bit of a change for her! The other medic on the scene was the girl out cold on the floor!
Wednesday was ridiculous. It was still over 30 degrees in the evening when I set off for my 12 miler. I had a litre and a half of water with me, but it just wasn't enough. Also my stupid Garmin died on me. I had to walk a little up some of the hills. Finally got home and logged the bit my Garmin missed and realised I was still a mile and a half short, so I finished up on the treadmill.
On Thursday I got home to find my hallway full, and I do mean FULL of flying ants. Aaaargh. I swatted at them with a rolled up magazine and sprayed them all with deodorant, air freshener and hair spray. Then I went upstairs and there were more in the bathroom (got them with Cif bathroom spray). Grabbed my bag to go to B&Q and spotted a load more in the living room and kitchen. Ugh, I feel itchy just thinking about it. I bought some flying insect killer spray, drove home and set about mass insecticide. Finally at about 8pm I got out for a run. I was so stressed out that I just had no energy left. I had to walk the entire length of a mile long hill and cut the run short.
Friday - still killing bugs and also a little distracted by the Williams v Watson match. I ended up going to Argos to buy a dustbuster handheld vacuum thing to get the dead bugs out of crevices that the hoover won't fit in to, and then to the gym. 5 miles plodded out.
We had massive thunder storms during the night, so it was off very little sleep that I got out of bed at stupid o'clock for the long journey down to Bristol for the Midlands league. After such a rubbish week I wasn't expecting much from my 3000m race. It was warm and really quite windy, although not as bad as at the last Mids league fixture. Just before the race I started to get stomach cramps and abdominal distention. I mean, really? Right now? There was some, erm, wind assistance, during my strides and I had to run off for a last minute visit. There was no action though. I really feared a mid race accident.
We started too quickly for my liking and the first 400 went by in 83 seconds. I was with a group that soon spread out into single file. I tucked in behind a girl from Bristol for a lap or two but I was getting ridiculously annoyed by her constantly running inside the inside line, ie cutting the distance. I don't know why it bothered me so much, but it did. I moved past her and tucked in behind a Gloucester girl, but she must have been slowing and pretty soon I had to go past her too. This put me behind my club's other runner. I could hear from her breathing that she was struggling so I pulled past, willing her to come with me. I was now behind a girl from BRAT and she too was running inside the inside line. Aaarrgh. Passed her too and ended up 4th in a season's best of 10.52.1. My stomach never bothered me again for the rest of the day.
All the travelling made for a very long day so I was late starting my long run this morning. I must learn to drag myself out of bed earlier for these. By the time I got to 13 miles I was nearly out of water so I had to slightly extend my run to go to a shop to buy more. 21.5 miles brought up 70.5 for the week.
Next week is a cutback. I don't really feel like I need one yet, but at least I might get to see some tennis!
The quality of my running this week has been in indirect proportion to the number on the thermometer (at least, if I'm remembering my maths/science terms correctly it was!). On Monday I was so tired I couldn't get out of bed for my morning run. Not a great start! The evening run and Body Pump were fine though.
The mercury started to rise on Tuesday and my form started to fall. I had to drop out of the track session after three 1k reps at a pace slower than my 3k race pace. I got halfway through the first 600m rep that followed and threw in the towel. I jogged that one out then skipped the next one. My club mate carried on but the heat took its toll on her and she passed out cold after the last rep, which was a little frightening to be honest. Luckily we had a medic on hand. A midwife, so it made a bit of a change for her! The other medic on the scene was the girl out cold on the floor!
Wednesday was ridiculous. It was still over 30 degrees in the evening when I set off for my 12 miler. I had a litre and a half of water with me, but it just wasn't enough. Also my stupid Garmin died on me. I had to walk a little up some of the hills. Finally got home and logged the bit my Garmin missed and realised I was still a mile and a half short, so I finished up on the treadmill.
On Thursday I got home to find my hallway full, and I do mean FULL of flying ants. Aaaargh. I swatted at them with a rolled up magazine and sprayed them all with deodorant, air freshener and hair spray. Then I went upstairs and there were more in the bathroom (got them with Cif bathroom spray). Grabbed my bag to go to B&Q and spotted a load more in the living room and kitchen. Ugh, I feel itchy just thinking about it. I bought some flying insect killer spray, drove home and set about mass insecticide. Finally at about 8pm I got out for a run. I was so stressed out that I just had no energy left. I had to walk the entire length of a mile long hill and cut the run short.
Friday - still killing bugs and also a little distracted by the Williams v Watson match. I ended up going to Argos to buy a dustbuster handheld vacuum thing to get the dead bugs out of crevices that the hoover won't fit in to, and then to the gym. 5 miles plodded out.
We had massive thunder storms during the night, so it was off very little sleep that I got out of bed at stupid o'clock for the long journey down to Bristol for the Midlands league. After such a rubbish week I wasn't expecting much from my 3000m race. It was warm and really quite windy, although not as bad as at the last Mids league fixture. Just before the race I started to get stomach cramps and abdominal distention. I mean, really? Right now? There was some, erm, wind assistance, during my strides and I had to run off for a last minute visit. There was no action though. I really feared a mid race accident.
We started too quickly for my liking and the first 400 went by in 83 seconds. I was with a group that soon spread out into single file. I tucked in behind a girl from Bristol for a lap or two but I was getting ridiculously annoyed by her constantly running inside the inside line, ie cutting the distance. I don't know why it bothered me so much, but it did. I moved past her and tucked in behind a Gloucester girl, but she must have been slowing and pretty soon I had to go past her too. This put me behind my club's other runner. I could hear from her breathing that she was struggling so I pulled past, willing her to come with me. I was now behind a girl from BRAT and she too was running inside the inside line. Aaarrgh. Passed her too and ended up 4th in a season's best of 10.52.1. My stomach never bothered me again for the rest of the day.
All the travelling made for a very long day so I was late starting my long run this morning. I must learn to drag myself out of bed earlier for these. By the time I got to 13 miles I was nearly out of water so I had to slightly extend my run to go to a shop to buy more. 21.5 miles brought up 70.5 for the week.
Next week is a cutback. I don't really feel like I need one yet, but at least I might get to see some tennis!
Sunday 28 June 2015
Highlight of the week - a PB that wasn't mine
Week 2 of marathon training is in the bag. It was something of a hit and miss week, but I got there in the end I think.
Monday
The Monday standard of a 4 mile recovery run early in the morning (usually done on the treadmill at the gym, but this time done on the roads as I had a parcel to collect from the delivery office, which doesn't open until 7.30am), then 9 more treadmill miles and a Body Pump class in the evening. This time it didn't give me such terrible DOMS.
Tuesday
Damned bloating! Or is it abdominal distension. Apparently the two are not the same thing. Anyway, I looked pregnant. There was only one other distance runner at the track session, and she's considerably faster than I am, so I ended up doing the short and painful session for middle distance runners. 4 x 400m, 4 x 300m, 4 x 200m. Takes forever and hurts like hell! Still, it was my first full session since injury so I was pleased to get through it. The 400s were in 78s, the 300s in 57s and the 200s in 35s. I have no idea if those times are decent or not!
Wednesday
I joined my old club for a run in the woods. They were doing intervals so I just tagged along at the back and caught them up after their efforts. Took some stick for writing a blog about toilet habits! I thought I'd best not mention that by the time we got back to the leisure centre I really, really, really needed to go! 11 miles in total.
Thursday
By now my legs were trashed. I hadn't had a rest day since Monday of week 1 so I decided it was time for one. I went and did the supermarket shop instead and made a gluten free, egg free, dairy free chocolate cake.
Friday
This was the 'miss'. My legs felt better but I had some errands to run and by the time I'd done them I was starving hungry, so I had some cake. I figured I'd better let it digest so I faffed about a bit, moving furniture and stuff in preparation for the arrival of the new treadmill. Then it was raining. Then I got caught up reading about EDS as someone posted about it in an IBS group and I have or have previously had a number of the syptoms/markers such as ganglions and hypermobility. Then I was hungry again and stupidly ate more cake. Then I gave up and went to bed!
Saturday
This day had been planned for some time. Andy was having a shiny new parkrun PB and Paul and I were going to pace him to it. We paced his previous best of 25.13 and this time nothing slower than 24.59 would do, preferably faster. Paul took his watch off him, I instructed him not to talk other than to answer yes and no. Stuart joined us too and had his app set in kms, so we had 3 Garmins in miles and 1 app in kilometres, 3 pacers and one pacee! I probably talked too much, but Andy finished in 24.13 - a whole minute faster. Then he headed off for a 90 mile bike ride!
Stuart came to help me move some stuff and collect the treadmill from Graham. I was going to save up for a half decent one for Christmas as my gym contract ends then, but Graham mentioned he was selling his and well, there's no time like the present, especially when it means spending significantly less cash. Jeezuz that thing is heavy. I don't quite know how, but we got it into Stuart's van. We had to borrow Mr Next Door and Elder Teen to get it out of the van and into the house. I must take them round a bottle of wine or something!
Having accepted defeat with putting it back together again I headed out for a second run to make up for Friday's missed run.
Sunday
Long run - 20.3 miles to bring up 65 for the week. It felt easier than last week's 18. Then Graham popped round to help me put the treadmill together (OK, he put it together and I occasionally held bits in place) and I spent some time emptying out my alcohol cabinet (a lovely old church cabinet) as I want it to go upstairs. It's too heavy for me so will be relying on the generosity of others again!
Other than Tuesday's bloating my insides have behaved themselves remarkably well this week. I've still heard nothing on my tests so I suppose I just wait for the consultant's secretary to return from her holidays!
Monday
The Monday standard of a 4 mile recovery run early in the morning (usually done on the treadmill at the gym, but this time done on the roads as I had a parcel to collect from the delivery office, which doesn't open until 7.30am), then 9 more treadmill miles and a Body Pump class in the evening. This time it didn't give me such terrible DOMS.
Tuesday
Damned bloating! Or is it abdominal distension. Apparently the two are not the same thing. Anyway, I looked pregnant. There was only one other distance runner at the track session, and she's considerably faster than I am, so I ended up doing the short and painful session for middle distance runners. 4 x 400m, 4 x 300m, 4 x 200m. Takes forever and hurts like hell! Still, it was my first full session since injury so I was pleased to get through it. The 400s were in 78s, the 300s in 57s and the 200s in 35s. I have no idea if those times are decent or not!
Wednesday
I joined my old club for a run in the woods. They were doing intervals so I just tagged along at the back and caught them up after their efforts. Took some stick for writing a blog about toilet habits! I thought I'd best not mention that by the time we got back to the leisure centre I really, really, really needed to go! 11 miles in total.
Thursday
By now my legs were trashed. I hadn't had a rest day since Monday of week 1 so I decided it was time for one. I went and did the supermarket shop instead and made a gluten free, egg free, dairy free chocolate cake.
Friday
This was the 'miss'. My legs felt better but I had some errands to run and by the time I'd done them I was starving hungry, so I had some cake. I figured I'd better let it digest so I faffed about a bit, moving furniture and stuff in preparation for the arrival of the new treadmill. Then it was raining. Then I got caught up reading about EDS as someone posted about it in an IBS group and I have or have previously had a number of the syptoms/markers such as ganglions and hypermobility. Then I was hungry again and stupidly ate more cake. Then I gave up and went to bed!
Saturday
This day had been planned for some time. Andy was having a shiny new parkrun PB and Paul and I were going to pace him to it. We paced his previous best of 25.13 and this time nothing slower than 24.59 would do, preferably faster. Paul took his watch off him, I instructed him not to talk other than to answer yes and no. Stuart joined us too and had his app set in kms, so we had 3 Garmins in miles and 1 app in kilometres, 3 pacers and one pacee! I probably talked too much, but Andy finished in 24.13 - a whole minute faster. Then he headed off for a 90 mile bike ride!
Stuart came to help me move some stuff and collect the treadmill from Graham. I was going to save up for a half decent one for Christmas as my gym contract ends then, but Graham mentioned he was selling his and well, there's no time like the present, especially when it means spending significantly less cash. Jeezuz that thing is heavy. I don't quite know how, but we got it into Stuart's van. We had to borrow Mr Next Door and Elder Teen to get it out of the van and into the house. I must take them round a bottle of wine or something!
Having accepted defeat with putting it back together again I headed out for a second run to make up for Friday's missed run.
Sunday
Long run - 20.3 miles to bring up 65 for the week. It felt easier than last week's 18. Then Graham popped round to help me put the treadmill together (OK, he put it together and I occasionally held bits in place) and I spent some time emptying out my alcohol cabinet (a lovely old church cabinet) as I want it to go upstairs. It's too heavy for me so will be relying on the generosity of others again!
Other than Tuesday's bloating my insides have behaved themselves remarkably well this week. I've still heard nothing on my tests so I suppose I just wait for the consultant's secretary to return from her holidays!
Thursday 25 June 2015
Private Joke?
So it was about 10 days ago that I had my tests done at the posh private hospital. A week later I hadn't heard anything so I phoned them to ask. I was put through to someone else, who put me through to an answerphone that informed me that the consultant's secretary is on holiday until July 6th and that I should call the main reception.
Hang up.
Dial again.
Explain that I don't want to be put through to an answer machine and that I'd like to know my results please.
'Ah, that'd be Lesley, she's on holiday'
'So I gathered, so how do I get my results?'
'Er, I don't know'..... 'I'll take your number and get back to you'.
That was on Tuesday. It's now Thursday. I still haven't heard anything. And I thought the NHS was bad!
Hang up.
Dial again.
Explain that I don't want to be put through to an answer machine and that I'd like to know my results please.
'Ah, that'd be Lesley, she's on holiday'
'So I gathered, so how do I get my results?'
'Er, I don't know'..... 'I'll take your number and get back to you'.
That was on Tuesday. It's now Thursday. I still haven't heard anything. And I thought the NHS was bad!
Sunday 21 June 2015
A Week of Firsts
So, this is the FIRST week of my 16 week training block for the Chester Marathon. I was supposed to run it last year but picked up a hip injury getting out of a car! Then of course I was supposed to run the London Marathon this year but fell during the National Cross and damaged a nerve in my leg, which put an end to any sort of training at all for a while.
Monday
Another FIRST, a rest day on day one. This was due to having been to the Download festival the day before, and to having to see the GI doc. It just seemed wise.
Tuesday
A steady 7.5 mile run. I hadn't run since Friday's night's 10 mile race and everything felt clunky and weird for the first few miles. Also I was having some unwanted GI issues in the form of blood that really, really shouldn't be there. Typical, it would start the day AFTER I saw the gastroenterologist.
Wednesday
The bleeding was worse, which was preying on my mind before the race. Notts Summer League race series. Another FIRST. For the FIRST time ever I was FIRST lady at one of these league events. I've won the whole series before, but never an individual race. And afterwards the bleeding had stopped. Cured by racing a stupidly hilly race! I didn't actually realise I was winning it at any point. I knew I was in second place and that my clubmate Nikki was storming of ahead. I was concerned with staying ahead of the Worksop and Newark runners who are my main rivals for the League title. The pace was slow as I still had Friday in my legs and the hills were killer. The Worksop girl was on my shoulder at one point, but I managed to pull away. I just wasn't sure how much of a gap I'd put into her. I threw myself down the final hill to the finish line and was handed the no. 1 token. Instead of being pleased I was annoyed with Nikki for dropping out! It's a team competition as well.
Thursday
7 treadmill miles split into two runs around Body Pump class. FIRST time I'd done that on a Thursday and also the FIRST time I'd done it for about 6 weeks. That would come back to haunt me for the next two days! There was a guy in the class who wore his hoodie zipped right up to the neck and with the hood up for the whole class. As we'd say up North, what a divvie! By the end he was down to puny weights and grimacing as if he were lifting 5 times the weight.
Friday
Oh my God, DOMS! Somehow I managed to run in the evening. It was supposed to be 10 miles but I misremembered the route and it was nearly 11. Oops. I was suffering with acid reflux during the whole run, then with heartburn all night. Do I have any Gaviscon in the house? No, of course not!
Saturday
The FIRST ever Gedling parkrun, which is handily just 1.5 miles from my house. That is the hilliest and hardest course I have ever run. I knew that of course, I've run in there before, but I hadn't attempted to run quickly. Anyway, I was FIRST lady, so I temporarily hold a course record. It was really slow though, so it won't last long!
Sunday
FIRST proper long run since February. In the context of marathon training I don't consider anything under 18 miles to be 'long'. I had to do an out and back route due to a cycling event taking place. I had wanted to avoid the nature reserve but had no choice. In June it's full of obstacles and hazards in the forms of families with children, dogs and bikes, elderly birdwatchers who dawdle around on the paths taking up too much space, and beasties. Lots of beasties. I think I ate about a hundred of them, and a good few more were stuck to my T-shirt. Bleurgh. Anyway, it wasn't exactly easy, but 18 miles bagged.
So 60.5 miles bagged. Reading back over my blogs from the last marathon I actually ran (London 2014) I'd say I'm in a slightly better position fitness wise, but I was battling snow back then, rather than midgies!
Monday
Another FIRST, a rest day on day one. This was due to having been to the Download festival the day before, and to having to see the GI doc. It just seemed wise.
Tuesday
A steady 7.5 mile run. I hadn't run since Friday's night's 10 mile race and everything felt clunky and weird for the first few miles. Also I was having some unwanted GI issues in the form of blood that really, really shouldn't be there. Typical, it would start the day AFTER I saw the gastroenterologist.
Wednesday
The bleeding was worse, which was preying on my mind before the race. Notts Summer League race series. Another FIRST. For the FIRST time ever I was FIRST lady at one of these league events. I've won the whole series before, but never an individual race. And afterwards the bleeding had stopped. Cured by racing a stupidly hilly race! I didn't actually realise I was winning it at any point. I knew I was in second place and that my clubmate Nikki was storming of ahead. I was concerned with staying ahead of the Worksop and Newark runners who are my main rivals for the League title. The pace was slow as I still had Friday in my legs and the hills were killer. The Worksop girl was on my shoulder at one point, but I managed to pull away. I just wasn't sure how much of a gap I'd put into her. I threw myself down the final hill to the finish line and was handed the no. 1 token. Instead of being pleased I was annoyed with Nikki for dropping out! It's a team competition as well.
Thursday
7 treadmill miles split into two runs around Body Pump class. FIRST time I'd done that on a Thursday and also the FIRST time I'd done it for about 6 weeks. That would come back to haunt me for the next two days! There was a guy in the class who wore his hoodie zipped right up to the neck and with the hood up for the whole class. As we'd say up North, what a divvie! By the end he was down to puny weights and grimacing as if he were lifting 5 times the weight.
Friday
Oh my God, DOMS! Somehow I managed to run in the evening. It was supposed to be 10 miles but I misremembered the route and it was nearly 11. Oops. I was suffering with acid reflux during the whole run, then with heartburn all night. Do I have any Gaviscon in the house? No, of course not!
Saturday
The FIRST ever Gedling parkrun, which is handily just 1.5 miles from my house. That is the hilliest and hardest course I have ever run. I knew that of course, I've run in there before, but I hadn't attempted to run quickly. Anyway, I was FIRST lady, so I temporarily hold a course record. It was really slow though, so it won't last long!
Sunday
FIRST proper long run since February. In the context of marathon training I don't consider anything under 18 miles to be 'long'. I had to do an out and back route due to a cycling event taking place. I had wanted to avoid the nature reserve but had no choice. In June it's full of obstacles and hazards in the forms of families with children, dogs and bikes, elderly birdwatchers who dawdle around on the paths taking up too much space, and beasties. Lots of beasties. I think I ate about a hundred of them, and a good few more were stuck to my T-shirt. Bleurgh. Anyway, it wasn't exactly easy, but 18 miles bagged.
So 60.5 miles bagged. Reading back over my blogs from the last marathon I actually ran (London 2014) I'd say I'm in a slightly better position fitness wise, but I was battling snow back then, rather than midgies!
Monday 15 June 2015
The Notts 10, a soggy problem and more tests for the grouchy guts
This 10 miler is organised by my club and I've done quite well in it in the past, but this year they've made a bigger deal of the sharp end, made it an Inter-Area match, offered free elite places to the superfast and offered good prize money to get the big guns in. As a result, despite technically running a PB (I've run a faster pace per mile over an entire half marathon though) I only finished 15th lady. However, the speedsters weren't local so I still won the County Champs and this time (unlike the XC) I was allowed both gold medals - senior and V35.
It absolutely threw it down with rain, so the steeplechase last weekend proved useful for practice at running in sopping wet shoes and socks I suppose. It was a bit grim, but the usual howling gale was notably absent, so on the whole I'd say conditions were reasonable. I kept losing concentration and the pace would drift. Without the Garmin I'd have been stuffed. Maybe it's just lack of practice. Anyway, I worked my way up the field, passing quite a few fellas and at least 3 women. I averaged 6.35s, which will hopefully be marathon pace in 16 weeks time.
Having had grouchy guts all week that had led to one emergency loo dash, one curtailment and one zero miles day, I resorted to immodium. It did the job, but I had some painful cramping afterwards. I still had some Mebeverine (anti -spasmodic) left over and that didn't do a thing.
Then I got home at 10pm, forced myself to eat some cereal and went upstairs. Opened the airing cupboard and got dripped on. Some confusion ensued. I groggily got out the ladders and climbed up into the loft. Oh F**k. Leaking roof. I stuck the washing up bowl under it and went to bed! Having finally dug out my insurance docs I called the home emergency dept of my home insurance and they promised a roofer on Sunday. As far as I can tell, they didn't come. But, it was a bit rainy and I went out to see Motley Crue at Download in the evening (awesome, by the way, but it was so cold I didn't hang around for the whole of Kiss's set afterwards). This morning however, I *think* I heard someone on the roof. I didn't see any sign of anyone though and they've not left a card. Hmmm. May have to ring up again and check what the deal is!
Today was the day of the appointment with the GI specialist. I liked the posh hospital but I didn't much care for the doctor. He seemed keen to get the appointment over with. Maybe because I was an NHS patient in a private hospital? He totally rubbished Fodmap and told me to eat more nuts, avoid all wheat but eat wholewheat pasta. Er, what? That doesn't even make sense. Pasta really bloats me and I'd already told him that was an identified trigger, along with dairy, egg, rye, large quantities of soya and large quantities of fats. Anyway, he sent me away with a little plastic container and instructed me to bring it back and have my bloods done at the same time. Now, I've had to collect a poo sample from my cat before, but from myself???? That was a spectacularly unpleasant experience, but it's done. I took it back and they took my blood. Now I wait. Again.
It absolutely threw it down with rain, so the steeplechase last weekend proved useful for practice at running in sopping wet shoes and socks I suppose. It was a bit grim, but the usual howling gale was notably absent, so on the whole I'd say conditions were reasonable. I kept losing concentration and the pace would drift. Without the Garmin I'd have been stuffed. Maybe it's just lack of practice. Anyway, I worked my way up the field, passing quite a few fellas and at least 3 women. I averaged 6.35s, which will hopefully be marathon pace in 16 weeks time.
Having had grouchy guts all week that had led to one emergency loo dash, one curtailment and one zero miles day, I resorted to immodium. It did the job, but I had some painful cramping afterwards. I still had some Mebeverine (anti -spasmodic) left over and that didn't do a thing.
Then I got home at 10pm, forced myself to eat some cereal and went upstairs. Opened the airing cupboard and got dripped on. Some confusion ensued. I groggily got out the ladders and climbed up into the loft. Oh F**k. Leaking roof. I stuck the washing up bowl under it and went to bed! Having finally dug out my insurance docs I called the home emergency dept of my home insurance and they promised a roofer on Sunday. As far as I can tell, they didn't come. But, it was a bit rainy and I went out to see Motley Crue at Download in the evening (awesome, by the way, but it was so cold I didn't hang around for the whole of Kiss's set afterwards). This morning however, I *think* I heard someone on the roof. I didn't see any sign of anyone though and they've not left a card. Hmmm. May have to ring up again and check what the deal is!
Today was the day of the appointment with the GI specialist. I liked the posh hospital but I didn't much care for the doctor. He seemed keen to get the appointment over with. Maybe because I was an NHS patient in a private hospital? He totally rubbished Fodmap and told me to eat more nuts, avoid all wheat but eat wholewheat pasta. Er, what? That doesn't even make sense. Pasta really bloats me and I'd already told him that was an identified trigger, along with dairy, egg, rye, large quantities of soya and large quantities of fats. Anyway, he sent me away with a little plastic container and instructed me to bring it back and have my bloods done at the same time. Now, I've had to collect a poo sample from my cat before, but from myself???? That was a spectacularly unpleasant experience, but it's done. I took it back and they took my blood. Now I wait. Again.
Thursday 11 June 2015
The wrong kind of run
This week has not been great so far. On Monday I took a rest day to recover from a bonkers weekend of travelling and racing (800m, 3000m, 1500m in the Midlands league in Gloucester on Saturday followed by the steeplechase in the UK Women's league on Sunday - no, I'm not a steeplechaser, but ours wasn't available on the day). I needed it, I was wrecked.
On Tuesday I went to train at the track. Ours is closed for refurbishment so we're borrowing the one at Mansfield, which is great for me as it's just down the road from where I work. The bloating and discomfort started before the session did, and one of my 'recoveries' was spent dashing to the loo and my cool down had to be curtailed.
On Wednesday I was having issues all day and couldn't risk leaving the house in the evening, so another day's training was lost.
Tonight I set of for a 6 - 7 mile recce of the new parkrun route that will soon start in the new Country Park they've made just a mile or two down the road from my house on the site of the old colliery/recycling centre, but had to abort and take the shortest route home. What followed was really, really unpleasant.
Tomorrow night I have a 10 mile road race. I'm worried. I'm not in decent shape anyway, but I'm worried I might not make it round without issues. And to make it worse they've given me an Elite number. Aaaargh.
I need fixing. Now!
On Tuesday I went to train at the track. Ours is closed for refurbishment so we're borrowing the one at Mansfield, which is great for me as it's just down the road from where I work. The bloating and discomfort started before the session did, and one of my 'recoveries' was spent dashing to the loo and my cool down had to be curtailed.
On Wednesday I was having issues all day and couldn't risk leaving the house in the evening, so another day's training was lost.
Tonight I set of for a 6 - 7 mile recce of the new parkrun route that will soon start in the new Country Park they've made just a mile or two down the road from my house on the site of the old colliery/recycling centre, but had to abort and take the shortest route home. What followed was really, really unpleasant.
Tomorrow night I have a 10 mile road race. I'm worried. I'm not in decent shape anyway, but I'm worried I might not make it round without issues. And to make it worse they've given me an Elite number. Aaaargh.
I need fixing. Now!
Wednesday 10 June 2015
About this blog
I am a runner primarily, although I'm also partial to the odd Beachbody workout. I am also intolerant. Not of people (well, actually, maybe I am a bit). Food is the problem. My issues started a few years ago with terrible cramps and, erm, worse, after hard sessions and races. I had some intolerance tests done at my local Nuffield Wellness Centre (where I was lucky enough to be a member at the time - before the recession of course!) and they came back with intolerances to durum wheat, dairy, eggs and rye, plus a plethora of minor intolerances.
Years of experiment revealed that replacing milk with soya led to the same issues, as did lactose free milk.
Once I'd gotten the hang of it I got by for years with just the odd issue, like anyone else. This year though, it became A Problem.
There was that run on a dark Wednesday evening when I suddenly had to go. Like right this very second. The problem was that I was on a well light residential street and wearing fluorescent high viz clothing. There were no pubs, no parks, no alleyways. Nada. I had to walk/shuffle a good half mile before finding a tiny stretch of parkland that happened to be unlit and had a tree in a place that would 'do'. What a horrendous experience. Then there were a couple of post interval session emergencies too. Then the post exercise bloating started to become post eating bloating. If I'm feeling brave I may post the photos I took after a meal one day. It's so, so painful.
The pain and other symptoms started to take over my life and triggered a bout of depression and eventually it all just got too much. The GP sent me for a barrage of blood tests that ruled out coeliac disease, so she diagnosed IBS, increased the dose of my antidepressants and gave me some Mebeverin to try. We discussed the FODMAP diet but she said she couldn't refer me to a dietitian. The Mebeverin didn't work. My mood is better, but my stomach issues are just as bad. So next up is the GI specialist on Monday. Meanwhile I'm attempting FODMAP elimination alone (not advised according to every bit of literature I've read, but is 'fine for a sensible girl like you' according to my GP). Not sure just how sensible I really am, as no doubt will become clear over the course of my blog!
This blog will hopefully track my journey back to health and fitness as I train for my 10th marathon - Chester on October 4th.
Years of experiment revealed that replacing milk with soya led to the same issues, as did lactose free milk.
Once I'd gotten the hang of it I got by for years with just the odd issue, like anyone else. This year though, it became A Problem.
There was that run on a dark Wednesday evening when I suddenly had to go. Like right this very second. The problem was that I was on a well light residential street and wearing fluorescent high viz clothing. There were no pubs, no parks, no alleyways. Nada. I had to walk/shuffle a good half mile before finding a tiny stretch of parkland that happened to be unlit and had a tree in a place that would 'do'. What a horrendous experience. Then there were a couple of post interval session emergencies too. Then the post exercise bloating started to become post eating bloating. If I'm feeling brave I may post the photos I took after a meal one day. It's so, so painful.
The pain and other symptoms started to take over my life and triggered a bout of depression and eventually it all just got too much. The GP sent me for a barrage of blood tests that ruled out coeliac disease, so she diagnosed IBS, increased the dose of my antidepressants and gave me some Mebeverin to try. We discussed the FODMAP diet but she said she couldn't refer me to a dietitian. The Mebeverin didn't work. My mood is better, but my stomach issues are just as bad. So next up is the GI specialist on Monday. Meanwhile I'm attempting FODMAP elimination alone (not advised according to every bit of literature I've read, but is 'fine for a sensible girl like you' according to my GP). Not sure just how sensible I really am, as no doubt will become clear over the course of my blog!
This blog will hopefully track my journey back to health and fitness as I train for my 10th marathon - Chester on October 4th.
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