Tag: motivation

Positive steps (with a bit of a lithp)

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A slightly odd run tonight. The original plan was to go to the group and run there, but we ended up doing a 4 miler a deux. This means that we probably went a bit further than if we were out with other people, but also a bit slower. Our speed wasn’t helped by the need for a bit of a loo stop in the first couple of miles – the end result being that we ran/walked a bit/ran the first two miles, went to my mum’s (thank god she was in, she’s let me down before with near disasterous consequences) and then ran the two miles back again.

To be honest, it was nice just being out without stressing about time/pace/distance (although she did refer to my “bloody garmin” because I made us keep going until we hit 4 miles, I’m not bloody stopping at 3.95 I tell you. So there.). It was a little scary on Saturday as even the thought of going out for a run made me feel anxious. I appreciate how weird this sounds and I don’t really have a reason for it, although I wasn’t in the best of spaces head-wise over the weekend (I’ve perked up since then). The sweet irony is that I sometimes have to do anxiety management at work and I know all of the theory about challenging negative thoughts, grading and practising tasks, riding out the anxiety feelings, flight or fight, the lot. I’m just crap at putting into practise with myself when I need to. The upside of this is that I have a good stock of anecdotes to give examples from, I think the latest one can be filed under “Examples of Black and White Thinking – if I do a run that isn’t 100% perfect to me, it’s a crap run and I’ve failed. Ergo, I may as well not run as I will inevitably fail”.

Husband has suggested that we have a bit of a Decemberthon to keep me motivated. I like the idea, apart from the fact that I can’t pronounce it without sounding like Violet Elizabeth Bott, Juneathon is a lot easier to say than Dethemberthon. Add to this the fact that the running bully and I are planning a bit of tag team bullying to get us back on track, we’ve a canalside run booked in for Saturday morning and a 4.5mile race in Santa hats in a month. All very positive steps, I think you’ll agree.

Next run, round the village tomorrow 5pm pre-yoga. Ooooh, actually, I can test a hypothesis that a pre-yoga run will be as effective as a pre-yoga nap for keeping me awake during meditation (and the nap is very effective, despite it taking me nearly a year of falling asleep in class to realise this).

Where’s the last month gone?

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Um. Hello. I’ve just realised that I’ve not posted anything for a month. Crikey.

Suffice to say, I’ve still not found my running mojo.  I’ve been trying to get out at least once a week so I don’t give up entirely. In fact, I had two cracking morning runs on 28th and 29th October; I had 2 training days for work which resulted in the lovely combination of late starts and nearer location. I decided to take advantage of the opportunity (and the sunshine) and went out at 7.30 doing 3 miles each day at a not too bad for me pace. The problem with this is that although I really enjoyed them and they reminded me just how much I enjoy running (once I’m out there…), they were freakish one-off events that didn’t really help me get back into a routine. Even my club running has petered out a bit, but that just seems to be because life has started to occur on Tuesdays recently.

Having said that, I did a club run tonight and it nearly killed me. 3.5 miles, a bit hilly and I’m suffering with “decorating thighs” at the moment. The last two days have been spent balancing precariously on ladders, mainly using my quads to support myself (in yoga terms, it was a bit like doing a half camel four foot in the air) or doing a lunges with one foot on a rung and one on the meter cupboard. Poor ladder safety, but excellent end results. Next good intention is to go out on Saturday, club run Tuesday and book an after-work run midweek.

On the knitting front, The Big Knit hats are now on sale in Sainsburys. I remain very jealous of other people’s hats. I’m knitting a twirly scarf and have plans to run amok in one of my favourite wool shops tomorrow or Thursday. This will mainly involve running around touching yarn and dribbling wildly.

Sporadic running. Domestic goddessing. Tiny knitting.

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Hmmm. I’m not getting much better at getting out regularly. I’m averaging one run a week at the moment – my excuses? Um. None really, just gone from being a bit fed up with life in general and finding it a struggle to do much at all, to perking up and being motivated to anything but run.

We’ve decided to do some work on the house as we’ve been here over 2 years and it’s still chaos, so we’re on a mission… The upshot of this is that we’re now sharing our house with a our friendly local plasterer – when we get him in it’s not so much a business transaction as a social enterprise. Unpredictable, unreliable, often in the pub, but a damn good plasterer when he deems to turn up. We’re also living in the kitchen as the rest of the house is full of either (a) plasterer’s gubbins or (b) contents of other rooms, my level of domesticity has gone through the floor (which none of us thought was humanly possibly) as there doesn’t seem much point when the place is covered in dustsheets. Actually, I say that I’m not being domestic, but the truth is that I’ve abandoned cleaning whilst chanelling all of my domestic energies into the kitchen – last weekend was pies (steak and cheese, lemon meringue) and blueberry muffins (amongst other things), this weekend was slow cooking (lamb tagine and tomato/veggie soup on the stove at the moment), coconut pyramids, chocolate mousee, flatbread and hummus. I’m fat but happy.

Amid all the lard, I’ve done two runs – last weekend was 5 miles (with a bit of walking on hilly bits) and today did 3 miles there and back in the village. Highlights today – using the virtual training partner on my garmin for the way back (and won! Albeit by a second per mile) and seeing a lovely steam train chuffing along. I’m very easily pleased. I keep having to remind myself that I started running this time last year, so if I can start running in the cold and dark, I can carry on running in the cold and dark. I think it’s a bit like dieting though, it’s easier to be motivated at the beginning when the weight comes off and you can see the change (or going from running from 5 minutes one week, to ten, to twenty), but it’s harder to maintain when the rewards aren’t as obvious.

In knitting news, the deadline for the Big Knit is now this week – and these are the fruits of my labours:

21 hats for the Big Knit

21 hats for the Big Knit

I’m particularly chuffed with the little fella on the left. Behatted smoothies will be in the shops from early November.

Is someone stealing time from me? Eh? Eh?

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When I decided to have a go at following a proper training plan, I looked at the schedule and marvelled at how little 3 days a week looked. In reality, I’ve not dragged out my sorry arse since Wednesday morning. And I appear to be prioritising the easy weekend runs, whilst neglecting the interval sessions, I can’t imagine why…

It’s tricky trying to do different stuff (especially when you’re a wuss like me) when you’re running with company. My friend’s still a bit demotivated on the running front and wasn’t keen to get dragged into a 5miler with fast bits in the middle – I got into enough trouble when we reached my front door only for me to announce “well we’re nearly at 3.7 miles, so we might as well make it 4…”.

My note to self from today was “turn off the garmin’s autonag setting when out with other people” – I don’t think it helped the demotivated friend to be harrangued by what sounds like an angry doorbell whenever we slowed down.

Older, wiser, drunker – it’s the birthday post

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I have made the transition from one decade to another – ladies and gentlemen, I am now in my thirties.

I’ve got to say that I’ve had a splendid birthday (and still got 2 hours of it left) and have had lots of lovely pressies (but more of that in a tick).

Monday was racketball day, very much fun but it’s made me realise that I don’t respond well to being asked to do any kind of exercise drill – run up and down a squash court bouncing a ball on a racquet? Well yes I will, but this is the sort of thing that I became an adult to avoid, so if you don’t mind I’ll just go back to hitting squash balls at my husband in a highly competitive fashion. Thanks. Oh, and if I want to be called a girl, I would go back to primary school and then I might be cajoled into doing shuttle runs as well. And yes I know it’s fun and a bit of a giggle, but please stop telling me that. In short, the session was run by a very enthusiastic chap with very good intentions (encouraging women [note ‘women’] to try a new sport) that I support wholeheartedly – it just tapped into the part of my being that hated PE and  feeling like a fat crap kid.

Tuesday was group run night, which was a session in and around the park (conjuring up lots of flashbacks to a. lurking around the park on the swings and b. traumatic cross country in giant pants). Wednesday was yoga (lots of strong leg work and I suspect that warrior poses are going to be the core of our 8 week session – go quads!). Thursday was supposed to be a run, but I finished work for 4 days and had that Friday feeling (and a pile of ironing), so I did nothing.

Friday was supposed to be my long run day. I woke up feeling more tired than when I went to bed and grumpier than a bear with an empty picnic basket. Having set a target of 8am to go out, I eventually went out at the end of Desert Island Discs at 9.45. If I’d have trusted my judgement, I would have run straight up to my mum’s (about 5 and a bit miles) rather than try and extend my running time (I’d only done 1 other run this week, it was already too warm and I didn’t take water). As it was, I stuck to my plan and ran a very winding way to mum’s (we were setting up for a birthday bash there the next night), up a very long, slight hill and then down to the canal. I just about managed an hour and then wanted to give up. So I did. But was still 3 miles away from my destination with no way of getting anywhere else. I was stupidly dehydrated (I don’t seem to learn) and found myself plodding up the canal thinking “I could drink canal water couldn’t I. No, it’s dirty, think of the rats and the weil’s disease. But it’s so wet and cold and I’m so thirsty”. I walked a bit, started to try and run, did a minute, whimpered slightly, walked some more and then pulled myself together and managed another 20 or so minutes. And then had to walk again. Then decided that if I was going to run-walk, I might as well run at a decent speed and did a bit of an interval stylee for the last mile. As my friend very kindly pointed out, this was the last run of my twenties (thanks love) and as a momentous one, it was a bit a shit. But I’m not that bothered – it’s just made me realise that if I’m serious about upping my mileage I need to a. take things more seriously and b. listen to my body.

At this moment of time, I’m full of a cold and gently infused with some lovely real ales, so obviously I need to work on point a. a bit more.

My birthday pressie list has been very interesting and is scarily revealing about how my head works. On the one hand, A Piece of Cake and Red Velvet and Chocolate Heartache (which at least contains veg). On the other hand a lovely running top (much more figure hugging than I would ever choose for myself and will go ever so well with the Ronhill capri pants I won in a raffle), What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, the promise of a new pair of trainers AND….. My very own Garmin. Yes folks, I’m a Serious Runner With A Garmin, see me roar. This will solve many things that I have been whingeing about recently (husband suffers me swearing as I plot my route on walkjogrun, complaining that I can’t pace myself and fretting that I’m over or underestimating my mileage – I suspect that his motivation wasn’t entirely selfless when he chose it) so prepare yourselves for being bored senseless as I figure out what it does.

Oh, and apparently this means that I have to do the half that I’ve been threatening to do.