Lockdown –7 days - I am now working from home full-time. It is going to be about routine. I will train three times a day; morning, noon and evening. This will help structure and break up my day. Other news; the cat is delighted to have another human in the house to demand attention off.
How much toilet roll, pasta and tinned tomatoes can people stockpile?
Life goes on and with it we move on.
Just as with our running we hit peaks and troughs, get injured, have to cope with the unexpected, find a plan B. We have to move on or we just simply stop.
It has been a while since I wrote. There should have been an entry for the Global Odyssey trip to North America and for the Ben Vorlich Ultra. Why the silence? Well, life has thrown a massive curve ball that has totally knocked the wind out of my sails and all my motivation with it.
A friend recently declared in public that she ‘loved running; but was not very good at it’. This made me think. Define a good runner. What makes a good runner? Is it really just the domain of the elites, the club runners, the front of the pack runners, the podium placing runners?
I knew there was a reason why I don’t normally line up events for January and February and why my mileage goes down over the winter. It’s the I just want to rest on my summer laurels, kick back, reduce the mileage and lie about in the warmth and get fat factor. This bear just wants to coorie in and hibernate.
To quote Jack Nicolson ‘What if this is as good as it gets?’
I have accepted the noticeable deterioration in the elasticity of my skin and the little wrinkles and lines forming, the drift south.
A not so cautious return from injury.
It’s an age old story.You get injured. It’s a bad one, crutches are involved. Painkillers are involved. Picture a running diva lolling with a ‘blanky’ and a pile of cushions. There are weeks (four) of enforced inactivity. Picture diva impersonating a cat on a hot tin roof. Finally, you get the all clear to ease back into training, but there is a small problem. It is only seven weeks until your next race, a huge kick-ass 100k with ascent equal to climbing Ben Nevis five times.
My recent participation in the Devil ‘O the Highlands footrace had an almighty sting in the tail: shin splints!
“You don’t need cream, you don’t need this and that. The only way to be beautiful is to accept yourself,”
The chimp is dusting off his little red trousers ready for the Great Glen Ultra where he will undoubtedly put in an appearance or two, and may well run amok again flinging pine cones at us in the woods on the climb out of Drumnadrochit.
The chimp is running around, throwing stuff and screaming.
Me: Chimp, you need to calm it down a bit, how about a foam banana?
The foam banana is flung straight back at me.
The chimp: REALLY? Do you really think you can fob me off with that?
Me: OK let’s talk. What’s the problem?
It turns out that nature built me a bit wonky. For as long as I have been a runner I have had issues with my left leg. It is always tight and always needs more massage than the right, and has always seemed to be either the root of or involved in any injuries that I have had to contend. I am also an over-pronator and it is worse on the left.