Running in and like the wind

It’s been a busy week and I’ve had little motivation to blog, but I thought I should check in with a quick breakdown of the week’s training. This was to be the week of trying to get back into a routine, of testing out my fitness levels, of discipline. Overall I was successful in achieving my aims.

On Monday I managed to get up early and head to the gym before work for a lower-body weights session. It was good to be back. My only concession to the break was to reduce the number of frog-jumps. Even so, it all felt reasonably light. Perhaps I didn’t push myself enough.

On Monday night Sarah and I arranged to walk to the gym together. I’d planned 40 minutes of rolling hills. Sarah was going to run with the Squad. I bumped into Ingrid in the changing rooms and she invited me to run with them. Feeling a little guilty I took up the offer. It was great to catch up with everyone again. I realised how much I miss the social factor of being a Squad junkie.

I wasn’t planning on going hard, as I was still supposed to be taking it easy. However I found myself in the front pack as we ran along the waterfront towards Bowen Street. I backed off a little bit as we ran up the hill, not knowing how hard to push myself. At the top we were supposed to turn left and run uphill for another six minutes. Duck turned to me and sent me off down Tinakori instead. A part of me was disappointed, but I wasn’t going to argue with her and loped off down the hill on my own.

My legs could feel the leg press that I’d done earlier that day. There was a certain heaviness in my stride that spoke of recently fatigued muscles. To add to that my feet felt really slappy, hitting the ground with a thump each stride. I felt as though my glutes weren’t firing enough to keep my feet light. I was a little frustrated! All the same I was surprised by my pace, particularly along Thorndon Quay. I think I was afraid of being caught up by the front of the pack, and that was enough to motivate me to keep going (sure enough, that night I dreamed I was running a cross-country half marathon and trying to keep ahead of someone who was running behind me). I made it to Frank Kitts bang on 40 minutes, then had to wait another five minutes or so for the speedies to catch up.

On Tuesday I headed off for Mike’s Balance class. It turns out that the class is now one of Les Mill’s new ‘Express’ classes. This means it has been shortened to 45 minutes. No hip track, no twist track. In other words – a shorter class means that some components are dropped all together, rather than all components being shortened. None of the large contingent of regulars were impressed. Those who can’t afford a whole hour usually just leave before the meditation tracks, so an Express Balance is a little redundant. Mike wasn’t terribly happy either. Next week he’s going to try using shorter tracks and dropping one meditation track. We all put notes in the suggestion box asking for the class to be returned to one hour.

After work it was a case of “where should I run to avoid the wind”? Gale force Northerlies were rocking the city, and I felt insane as I headed out for my half-hour session. My legs were suffering a little DOMS from the weights session, but oddly my feet weren’t as heavy. I slogged it through a headwind up Molesworth, doing the usual Tinakori Rd, Thorndon Quay loop, with a little extra waterfront running thrown in to make up the half hour. Again my speed wasn’t as bad as I’d expected, though I still felt slow.

Any hopes of getting up Wednesday morning to do upper body/core weights were blown away, literally, by the same gale-force wind. It kept me awake all night waiting for the roof to blow off or the window to blow in. Hamish couldn’t sleep either, and we were both pretty groggy. I was also still feeling it a bit from Monday and Tuesday. I get really frustrated by how long it takes my muscles to recover. I don’t want to drop the number of runs I do, but I find it hard to recover enough if I run too many days in succession.

Thankfully the wind dropped as the day went on, so I decided to run for 40 minutes from the Terrace gym out past Oriental Bay and back. I kept up a medium to fast pace for the first twenty minutes, dropping back slightly on the return. This run actually felt a lot better than it should have done. I stopped briefly near Freyberg to check that a cyclist who had been knocked off his bike wasn’t someone I knew, then kept going. He had lots of people helping him and didn’t seem too badly injured. Back at the gym I briefly considered joining in the Balance class that was about to start, but decided to head home instead. I ended up standing at the bus stop in the wind and cold (with dust from nearby construction blowing into my eyes) for over half an hour. Needless to say I was not impressed, and was only cheered by Hamish playing the nearest episode of Heroes for me when I got home. That’s the karma I earned for not doing Balance!

So should I have hoped for an early session on Thursday? Nope! Duck had me in the studio again jumping and hopping over a row of power bags, lifting the powerbags over my shoulder and squatting (“you can lift heavy for a little thing” she says, as I struggle with an unwieldy 20kg bag), and doing pressups and shoulder raises. From there we moved to drills with a rope ladder spread on the ground – lots of knee raises and stepping in and out of the rungs of the ladder. I love those sorts of workouts, even if that particular session left me with sore shoulders of doom the next day.

All of which was going to make Balance interesting on Friday. First though I had to get through RPM. My legs were NOT impressed, and I wasn’t really having as much fun as usual. However I did it, although that will be the last Friday RPM I will do for a while. It’s too hard to blast my legs all week then expect them to co-operate with me when I ask them to do a long run on a Saturday morning. Oh, and Balance – hard. Thanks Clare for picking an intense release with lots of standing lunges and stuff that made my shoulders hurt.

I ended up putting my Saturday run back a day, partly to give my legs a chance to recover, and partly because I needed to go into the Sanctuary to check on my nestboxes. So it wasn’t really a rest day – several hours of hauling myself up and down bush-clad slopes.

Which led to today. Sunday – the middle of a long weekend. I snapped awake at 7am, and my first thought was “hey, it’s sunny”. Ten minutes later – “hey, it’s silent – there’s no wind”. Five minutes later – “hang on, I need to do a 70 minute run today”. One minute later “hey, I’d better leave now, before it gets windy again”. Half an hour later I was out the door.

My goal for today was to enjoy my run. I told myself I wasn’t allowed to worry about speed. I just had to get out there and keep putting one foot in front of the other for 70 minutes, on the flat. Thankfully Wellington put on some weather that was extremely conducive to enjoying myself. Yes, there was a bit of a headwind, but it was needed on the way back to keep me cool. I felt good right from the start. There were plenty of runners out, and everyone was in a good mood. I got nodded at and greeted more than ever before.

I told myself I wasn’t allowed to look at my watch until after Greta Point and I relaxed into things. As I reached Oriental Bay I spotted a younger female runner ahead of me. She was decked out with a fuel belt and iPod, and I wondered how far she was going. I overtook her fairly easily, but that wasn’t the end of the story. As I got to Maidevale Rd something suddenly started beeping loudly, a bit like a truck reversing. I kept going and realised that the sound was following me. Turning around I saw the woman I had earlier overtaken. Yes, that beeping was her heartrate monitor sounding off at her. With her iPod blaring in her ears I realised she probably couldn’t hear it. I wondered if she was maxing out trying to pace herself off me.

I kept running and she kept beeping. I looked over my shoulder at her a couple of times, but she kept on grimly keeping on and didn’t get the hint. Now, am I being unreasonable in being annoyed by having to run to the accompaniment of a continually beeping monitor? Once I had decided the noise was annoying of course it started to obsess me. In the end I stopped and let her get ahead of me until I could no longer hear her. Relieved, I kept going, running past the new sea cadet buildings before turning around.

On the way back and around the 39 minute mark I suddenly felt like Superwoman. My muscles woke up and I found myself powering back towards the gym. I briefly considered running up Maidevale, but decided to stick to the plan and run on the flat. I stopped at Balaena for water, although I decided in the end that I hadn’t really needed to. At Oriental Bay swimmers in wetsuits were doing circuits of the fountain. I asked one guy walking past holding a wetsuit how the water was and he replied that it was warming up. I considered going home for my wetsuit. I kept running all the way back to the gym, for a negative split. Nice!

A good long stretch at the gym, a quick trip to the Farmer’s Market, and a cooked breakfast to get Hamish out of bed. I knew I’d had a good run because I was feeling charged rather than exhausted. My legs felt fine, my hip felt fine. I opened the bedroom curtains and told Hamish that unless he could find a beach with WiFi there was no way he was working today.

So we spent the afternoon on the beach at Queen Elizabeth Park. And now I have a face the colour of a radish. Oops. First sunburn of the season.

I have a half hour tempo run on the cards for tomorrow and it’s going to be a blast. Today’s run’s made me feel confident again. It will be hard not to get carried away this week. I need to keep myself reined in for a little longer!

Burn Baby Burn

Well, it appears I chose the crash and burn option. In fact, I crashed and burnt in spectacular fashion, even for me! I'm not going to reveal my time, though you can always search for it if you're really that interested. Let's just say that it wasn't even close to what I should have been able to do.

I honestly don't know what went wrong, but I'm proud of myself that I decided to keep going and didn't quit. I was already feeling stomachy before the race, and I nearly chose to skip breakfast and settle on some fruit instead. I should have taken that option. I had a brief period of feeling ok at around 40 minutes, and my 10km time didn't reflect my final finishing time. However in the second half the wheels just fell off.

I had a couple of incidents of having to stop to spit out bile, and despite the drink stops I was very thirsty and had to stop at a couple of random taps. The final killer for me was hearing Ann chatting away behind me for around 10 minutes, knowing that she was about to overtake me. She duly did so, which was hugely demoralising.

Halfway through Hikoikoi Reserve the trail crossed a dead-end road. There was no martial to tell us which way to go, so I stood there for a few seconds, ran a little way further up the trail, still couldn't see anyone, ran back to the road, and spotted an official 100 metres or so down the road. I started off that way, got around 50 metres, then got called back by a guy who had finished and was running back to come in with the tail enders. I was furious, as was he. We ran along the trail a little way together and he was wonderful, encouraging me and keeping me going. Mention must also be made of a lovely older Scottish Harriers guy who ran with me for a way on the Hutt River trail, and encouraged me to not worry about my time. I passed him again on the Port Rd. He looked like he'd torn a hamstring or something fairly race-ending, and I would have loved to have been able to stop and walk with him. In the end I was at least able to send a passing ambulance off in his direction.

Let me just say that I think this is my least favourite course of those I have ever run. First the ugly industrial Hutt Rd, then some relief along the river trail, then a mix of more industrial and suburban streets. Lots of corner turning, lots of road crossing, lots of little humps to get up and over bridges. Just when you think you're nearly onto the Port Rd you realise that actually you still need to keep traveling off to your left for another kilometre or so. Around Port Rd, then onto the extremely narrow Hikoikoi trail, with more doubling back, more little undulations. Finally onto the Petone Foreshore with the finishline in the distance, seeming to take forever to reach. And whose stupid idea was it to put a sausage sizzle right next to the finishline? If I wasn't about to vomit beforehand the odour nearly put me over the edge.

Thanks to all the Jog Squad girls who cheered me as I ran in, even though they how badly I'd done. I got over the line and everything cramped up. I couldn't move without something else going into spasm. The guy handing out water made me drink three cups of strong Gatorade before he would let me get up from the post he'd ordered me to sit on. I missed out on a banana because they were all gone. That made me very grumpy. I had been followed around the course by guys who looked like they wanted to pick up the road cones, and by the ambulance driver, who looked like he wanted to pick me up, which had only served to rub in the fact that I was running at a snail's pace. I hated the event and was determined never to do it again. I didn't even win a spotprize.

Then something funny happened. I got home, ate, sat down and immediately wanted to go out and run it all over again to demonstrate that I was actually better than that. I even started toying with the idea of doing Wairarapa Country again. To my credit I finished today, even when everything seemed like purgatory. I didn't let my wipeout affect me too deeply. And I started to plan my triumphant return to the sport that is the half marathon.

I did astoundingly badly today, but this is not the end of the story. It's a fairly repetitive story. Girl trains. Girl runs a bad event. Girl trains again. However this story WILL have a happy ending. There is a sub two hour run in this girl.

Wouldn't life be so much easier if I wasn't so hung up on times?

Kate - I think playing the 'I'm sick' card was the good option! Get well soon...

The Night Before

So I'm running the Pelorus Trust half marathon in the morning. I have absolutely no idea how it's going to go. I might go out and blitz the course, or I may simply plod my way around and come in somewhere around or slightly slower than Harbour Capital. It feels strange having such little sense of where I'm at.

If the Northerly comes up overnight then all bets are off. Plus I'm running in my new shoes for only the second time, which is a fundamental nono. I just lost all motivation to run this week after my fast 45 minutes on Monday. I enjoyed lifting some heavy upper body weights on Tuesday, going hard enough in RPM afterwards to leave my upper quads sore on Wednesday, doing Balance on both Tuesday and Friday, flogging my upper body again on Thursday... and that was it. The gale Northerlies on Thursday put me off a last run. I'm feeling physically good. I THINK I'm stronger and fitter, and certainly this training programme hasn't taken it out of me the way the last one did. Again, I really don't know.

I've been pretty sensible today and hydrated well. Sarah and I picked up our race packs and I'm meeting her in Northland tomorrow morning. I'm not going to make a big deal out of this run, but it will be hard to own up if I feel I've done badly. Like I said, we'll just have to see how it goes.

New Old Shoes!

I'm so happy! After a few weeks of sore shins (I never get sore shins) and slightly grumbly bits and pieces I finally surrendered to the inevitable and bought myself a new pair of running shoes.

I was incredibly attached to my old pair of shoes. Things started going right with my running the day that I first wore them. They were my go-faster shoes. Compared to the last pair of Addidas, which were stiff and heavy and made me sound like I was running in clown shoes, these almost felt like running in no shoes at all. they were the shoes I wore when I PR'd my 2.4km time, the shoes I wore for my first sub-60 10km in Levin, the shoes I ran my first half marathon in. Imagine my trepidation then at having to enter the uncharted territory that is a new pair of shoes once again.

Imagine, if you will, my joy at seeing the exact same pair of shoes, right down to the colour, in the box that the sales assistant was opening in front of me. "Oh," she said, "I can get you the new colour if you want it". I looked at her feet, which were sporting the same Addidas with a yellow stripe. "No, " I replied, looking down at my grey and orange Addidas wind parker, "I'm kind of fond of the orange, and you know, it colour co-ordinates and all".

I think I've developed a couple of running superstitions. Firstly, I have to have my Special K with tinned fruit salad before a long run. Secondly, I HAVE to be wearing my lucky Addidas running shoes with the orange stripe. Of course, there's the whole pie and cider thing as well, but that's more gluttony than anything else!

All up it's been a pretty good week of training, and my leg strength is back where I want it to be. I felt fine after Monday's fast 10.6km. V took Mike's lunchtime Balance class at the Terrace gym, and after work I fitted in my leg workout before RPM. I went back to my programme and the leg press seemed almost easy. That was a definite indicator to me that my legs have strengthened up again. I also noted that at some point I've become one of those people who spends a lot of time talking to other people between sets. I guess that happened around the time I started spending half my waking hours there!

After the weights it was downstairs to RPM. Duck was sick and Dee was filling in. It's been too long since a Dee class, and I'll have to start doing Friday mornings again after this. Before the class Dee asked who was up for the Irish jig, and of course I said yes. when the time came I felt compelled to yell out that I'd changed my mind, but of course it was too late. The only option was to fight back, and I did. My dial went up every time Dee even started to think about turning up the dial. Every time the class stood I was already standing. Every time they sat I was grinding away. I didn't allow myself to slow for even a fraction of a second, even as the ante was upped time and time again, the volume increased, the speed quickened. The battle was fought and won on the bike. All that AND Nirvana. There's a reason why Dee's classes are always full.

Surprisingly my legs were still reasonably intact on Wednesday, although my shins were a little grumbly and it took a while for my muscles to shake out. We ran up Willis Street then straight up Aro Valley, and I made it a good way up the hill before it was time to turn around and sprint for the bottom. I ended up running fast back down Willis and was happy with how things went. Oh, and I manged to fit in an upper body/core workout as well. Did I mention I was trying to reintroduce some discipline into my training?

Duck was still sick on Thursday, but I got out of bed anyway and made up a circuit session. I focused on the box step-ups, walking lunges, squats, bench push-ups, glute exercises and ab work we've been working on lately, then cut things a little short to fit in some yoga stretches. At lunchtime I went out for a half hour interval session around the Bays. It was a cold day but there wasn't much wind and quite a few runners were out. I must have been going faster than I gave myself credit for. One guy I overtook (another of those ball-of-their-feet shufflers) took exception and overtook me only to fall back into a shuffle so that I overtook him again a few minutes later. He didn't catch me again as I put my foot down to make sure he stayed behind!

Another Balance on Friday (in which Clare was greatly amused by my sudden inability to tell my right from my left), and then the bulk of the training for the week was over. I wasn't feeling overly sore, I wasn't feeling exhausted. I wasn't feeling like I'd put myself through a particularly rigorous week of training. And yet I knew I had. Hmmm, perhaps I AM a little fitter now after all. I guess I must be or I wouldn't be telling everyone I'm doing my first marathon next year. Plus I'm finally at the point I've been trying to get to all year. I've finished a whole training programme without any serious injuries and I'm ready to move straight into the next one. This feels like the tipping point into something greater - a higher level of personal performance. It's all a little exciting, to be quite honest!

Everything nearly went awry this morning, though it was completely my own fault. Duck and Ingrid sent out a message to say that there would be prizes at today's run, and my guess was that they would be running another treasure hunt. I drank three glasses of wine last night then ate fish and chips for dinner. It's been a while since I've been that self-destructive, and I was quite aware it would impact on my performance today. I was nearly at the gym when I remembered that I hadn't taken any of my medication. I wasn't keen to find out how well I can run without cortisol (I figured an Addisonian crisis on the last Saturday run would not be cool), so I dashed home, swallowed some pills, and made it back to the gym with two minutes to spare.

Ingrid divided us into four teams. Our little team was the second to leave, but we were never going to be the winners. We jogged slowly around collecting clues and chatting as we went. I was happy to run at the pace of the slowest Squadder. My legs were still a little sore from the week's activities and my shins were aching.

Most of the clues were fairly easy, although one of the activities involved all of us sliding down the highest slide in the 'lighthouse' by Frank Kitts Park. It's the biggest slide I've ever been down, and yes, I did squeal like a girl! The last clue involved going to the place where the police worked. Ingrid had said that the treasurehunt was taking place around the waterfront, so the smartest in our team suggested the police launch. We ran all the way there, only to find no one in situ. So we ran all the way back to the police station in Victoria Street, where Ingrid was waiting. We were the last team to arrive back by 9 minutes, and everyone was waiting outside the gym cheering us as we approached the finish. We were only out for around half an hour, but it was a nice way to finish up the week. Afterwards we all sat around drinking coffee, before I finally headed off to do the aforementioned shoe shopping.

And in other news, Hamish's mechanic wants to buy my Mazda and is going to give Hamish the money on Tuesday. Which means I'll have money to buy a scooter with this week. At the moment I've got my eye on a pale blue VMoto. Woohoo!

Mad Dog Yelps

Oh, so that's where my speed was hiding!

It was a low turnout for the Squad tonight. Legs is away, Allie was hiding behind her desk and Sarah was off with a virus that was providing her with great moments of fevered amusement. The wind was threatening violence, so of course we ran around the Bays. Or to be exact, we were to run to the Zephrometer, and if we made it there in 30 minutes we were to run over the hill into Newtown and back to the gym. Otherwise we were to turn around and run back the way we came.

Turning around meant battling the Northwesterlies the whole way home. I swear there was no full moon, but Mad Dog wasn't backing down. I put my foot down, clenched those glutes and went for it. I overtook Trudi and co at Greta Point then lead all the way through to an unfortunate choice of crossings and a bad light change at the base of the hill up to Newtown, where they got ahead of me again. I overtook them on the way through the Newtown shops, then managed to stay just ahead until Courtney Place, where they ran ahead and I chased their tails all the way back to the gym.

I wasn't letting myself slow down for anything tonight. I floored it the whole way. Even better, as I was sprinting down Courtney I made myself straighten up, doing the whole 'string through the top of my head' thing again, lifted my feet, and realised that I could have kept going at that pace if I had needed to. Oh to have had the nerve to have headed back out around the Bays. If I'd kept that pace up for another ten and a half kilometres a sub-two hour half could easily have been mine. I knew it was a good run when the traffic lights were a nuisance rather than a blessed relief.

The Mad Dog is back. Long live the Mad Dog.

Oh, and I might also have made noises to a few people today about running the Harbour Capital marathon in June 2008. Something about being inspired by certain Ironman bloggers to set myself some impossible goals and to go out and achieve them.

Damn Type A personality.

Spriiiinnnngggggg!

Yay! Every cell in my body has been screaming joy at the change in the seasons this week. I've been forced to sit at my desk, fidgeting and fussing, while out the window the sun has shone and the trees erupted with new growth. There hasn't been much productivity going on, so I've listened to my body and spent as much time as possible outside.

I had a remarkably ordinary run on Thursday, but then I was running during my lunchbreak, so had limited options route-wise. Duck worked my glutes and legs on Thursday morning, and I wasn't in the mood to climb to Kelburn. Instead I decided to see how fast I could run the Molesworth Street, Tinakori, Thorndon Quay loop. It's not the most exciting run in the world, but I know it well enough to know how fast I should be getting through it.

My legs quietly let me know that this was the fourth day in a row of running, and that I'd already worked them that morning. I still managed to get to Thorndon Quay in fairly handy time, but I can't truly say that the rest of the run was completed at a fast pace, even if I did overtake another guy along the waterfront. Let's just say that my shoes need replacing. By the end of the thirty minutes my left shin was
aching to the point where I could imagine it eventually becoming too sore to continue.

So my run on Thursday was ok, but not fantastic. I can't expect every run to be amazing after all. I still had that great 'I just ran' feeling half an hour or so later at my desk. It's the best form of stress-reduction I know. Running has shut the lid on my anxiety episodes, for which I am eternally grateful.

I was hopeful that a day off would allow the various aches to subside, and by Friday morning things were already on the improve. I had a good Balance class with Clare at lunchtime. We did release number 35, which I'm not familiar enough with to be able to avoid watching Clare for cues. I love the Tai Chi warm-up and did get into a kind of groove, but again, it was just an ordinary class, nothing revelatory.

I had a quiet night last night. Hamish was out drinking with his colleagues, so I sat at home avoiding alcohol and watching Project Runway. How sad is the life of a runner? My alarm went off at 6.45 this morning and, not for the first time, I wondered what on earth I was doing getting out of bed at this time on a Saturday morning. If you'd told me that I'd be up so early on a Saturday morning to go for a run three years ago I would have laughed in your face.

Thankfully I knew that the Northerlies were supposed to be increasing as the day went on, (rising to galeforce) and that there was rain forecast for Saturday evening and Sunday. I was also supposed to be meeting Sarah at the Terrace gym, and we wanted to be back in time for Clare's 10am Balance. That was enough to get me out of bed.

Sarah met me outside the gym at 8, and we were inside dropping off our gear the second it opened. Then it was off around the Bays. We turned left out of the gym, right into Bowen and down onto the waterfront. We kept pace with each other for the first 20 minutes, then Sarah pulled away. I wasn't sure whether my shin was going to start aching again, so I held back on the pace a little which showed in my eventual stats.

Despite the Northerly, which was already rather fresher than I'd hoped, it was a gorgeous morning. I haven't run around the Bays for quite some time, and it was nice to be back on familiar territory. I got into my long-distance groove quite quickly. My feet felt much lighter than Thursday and everything just seemed to flow. Again I concentrated on keeping upright and pushing through my glutes. Thanks to Duck's Thursday bashing I could definitely tell when I was using them. they were little knots of steel and they weren't terribly happy with me!

Greta Point arrived before I knew it. An unmarked police car was cruising the streets and passed me several times, pulling over unsuspecting speeding drivers. I kept going, remembering running this way for the Round The Bays at the start of the year, and feeling much fitter this time around. Checking my watch I realised I would be at the needle well before it would be time to turn around. That got me moving a little faster. My goal then became to make it to the first round-a-bout. I got there right on 50 minutes and started heading back to the gym.

Running back along Cobham was a bit nasty as I was getting blown around by the Northerlies. They continued to be a feature around each point, slowing me down a bit. However I was heading for a fairly good split, not negative, but not that far into the positive. It was quite a warm morning, so I stopped for water at Hataitai and Balaena Bays, and again at Freyberg. Sarah caught me when I stopped at Balaena and we ran together for a while. Both of us were feeling quite upbeat and happy with how we were going.

I went to cross Jervois Quay at Queens Wharf and was going to run up Woodward Street back to the gym, but my watch only read 1 hour 42 and I wasn't ready to stop. So I turned right down Lambton Quay, then forced myself to run up Bowen. My body did what it was told, although I walked a little bit of the Terrace before running the last couple of hundred metres. Sarah was inside waiting for me.

It was straight into Balance. The sun was shining in and it was fabulously warm. We did release 36, which is one of my favourites and has some great hip openers. We showered and it was great to get the salt off our faces, then I sat in the sun to wait for Hamish to drop off the spare car key to me. My own set of keys were sitting in the ignition of the Mazda, trapped behind a locked driver's door. Yes, I am an idiot.

Since then I've eaten a pie, some toasted pumpkin seeds and a mandarin. I've drunk a bottle of sports replacement drink and a bottle of cider. Not the best day diet-wise then. I've done three loads of washing and read the paper. What I haven't done is wash my Mazda or prepare her for sale. I haven't been to look at any scooters either. It's not that I'm feeling particularly tired. I'm feeling very good actually, not at all like I spent most of the morning exercising, but I sort of lost momentum once I got home.

Tomorrow the Mazda will get cleaned and photographed and placed on Trademe. Hamish is following up on a scooter-lead via a client whose partner imports Vespas. The garden will get weeded, if I don't blow away in the process.

So two things to be happy about: it's spring, most emphatically spring, and my training is back on track. I'm peaking right on time instead of two weeks too early. I'm fitter than I think I am, and I'm sustaining my workouts at a higher level with less effort. My pace today was right on target for a good time at Pelorus. It may well happen!

Finally, I have a confession. I ead a number of triathlon blogs, and every time I read a first Iron-Man race reports I have to fight back the tears. Today I read a second Ironman report and was so inspired that I went back to the first blog entry and read from the beginning. Then I decided that I should set myself some impossible goals and set out to achieve them. If you only read one blog today, let it be this one.

Three runs and a dilemma

My running schedule for the rest of 2007 was looking pretty straightforward: Pelorus Trust half marathon, a month of speed training, Wairarapa Country half marathon, Rimutaka Incline, then multi-sport over summer with the Wellington half marathon in February. Unfortunately my mother-in-law emailed me this morning with a rumour that this is the last year the Auckland event will be held over the harbour bridge.

I can't really afford the $85 entry fee and trip up to Auckland at the moment, but let's face it, the attraction of Auckland is the bridge, and Ruth has been talking about running the half as well this year (her big comeback). I had quietly been planning to run Auckland as my first full marathon next year, but removing the bridge takes the edge off the appeal. So now what do I do? Bruce, any indication of the truth of these rumours? At this point, I'm going to stick to my guns. Pelorus, Wairarapa and Rimutaka. Unless my mother-in-law comes up with an offer to pay my entry fee. I'm not holding out any hope!

In the meantime, my training continues. I haven't had any major breakthroughs in terms of suddenly discovering superhuman strengths, but I'm quietly getting on with things. We had a hard, fast run out along the waterfront on Monday night, taking Aotea Quay past the stadium and crossing over to Thorndon Quay via a fly-over bridge. I feel satisfied that I pushed it quite hard, although I was thrown on the return leg by being much further North than I'd anticipated. I let myself die a little death on Lambton Quay, but then recovered up Willis to catch Sarah for the last sprint back through Manners Mall and Dixon. I think we were out for a total of around 50 minutes.

I was in Auckland on Tuesday, which meant no Body Balance and no RPM. I made it out of my meetings at around 1.30 so hoofed it the ten minute walk to Les Mills Victoria Street. I had been planning to do some intervals around Victoria Park, perhaps followed with a run up College Hill then down through Herne Bay and back to the gym via Westhaven Marina. I'm not sure what happened, but the day was overcast and windy and I decided to run on the treadmill. Obviously the treadmill option was the inferior choice, especially in the rather industrial warehouse-style city gym facilities. There wasn't any decent audible music to keep my attention diverted from the timer. It made me appreciate the cardio theatre at Xtreme all the more.

I jumped on for half an hour, warming up at 10.5, then doing three short intervals, with the fastest at just over 15kmph, the fastest I've ever run on a treadmill. I finished off at around 12kmph, sweaty but not with any real sense of having exerted myself. I finished up with a long stretch before heading for the spa complex in the women's changing rooms.

After a quick shower I headed for the spa pool, which had a big 'no entry' sign up in front of it. Darn, foiled. I sat in the sauna for a while, then moved to the less-than-hot steam room but it wasn't the same. Thankfully the showers are at least strong and scalding hot, so I enjoyed one last long blast before heading out to the cafe. I wish the cafe were similarly enjoyable. I ordered a chicken chilli with rice. The chicken was bland, the rice gluggy, and the overwhelming impression was of school canteen food. Still, it filled a gap until I could get home and have a proper meal.

Before long I was in a plane back to Wellington looking out at a full moon hovering above clouds tinged pink from the sunset, admiring the stunning beauty of it all. If I'd delayed my flight by a couple of hours I would have had a ringside seat of the eclipse, but that would have meant having even more time to kill. I'm an ex-Aucklander (Westie, in case you're wondering), so I do have friends there, but really I was just hanging out to get home.

It was incredibly hard to drag myself out of bed this morning for a weights session, but I'm still struggling to regain my former dedication to multiple sessions a day so I felt I had a point to prove. I elected for upper body/core, upping the weight on the last set of star gazers and doing a few extra pull-ups. I think it's time for a new weights programme, as my body seems to have acquainted itself to my current one quite well and my mind is losing a certain amount of interest. I've already decided I'm going to focus on speed work once Pelorus is out the way, so it's probably a good time to refocus in general.

All up our run tonight went well and I'm pleased with how steady I've been this week. We ran a very undulating route, along Courtney, up Kent to Elizabeth Street, up Elizabeth to Austin, down Ellis, around the Basin, up Buckle, down onto Willis Street, up Willis to Aro Street, up Aro to the pedestrian crossing then back down Willis Street to the waterfront, Taranaki Street and back to the gym. The real route was was supposed to be a half kilometre longer, but Sarah and the other Jog Squadder I was running with both headed home mid-run. I continued on with Pru, but she was having knee issues and had to cut things short. In the end we covered around 7km in 40 minutes, which was pretty good considering all the traffic lights we had to stop at

I have a session with Duck in the morning and another homework run to get out of the way at lunchtime. I'll do Balance on Friday, then it's a 110 minute run on Saturday. If the weather's good I'll reattempt my last abortive attempt at running around the coast and off to the Terrace gym via Kilbirnie and Hataitai Bay etc, hopefully winding up there in time for a 10am Balance. I'll check it all out on Map My Run and see how it looks. All up though I'm feeling good with no real injuries other than my slightly nagging sacroiliac. I may well assemble at the start of the Pelorus Trust event feeling right on top of things.

Bring it on, she whispered

Like Sarah, I was rather nervous before my run on Saturday (I'd link to Sarah's actual post, but I'm having to use Safari tonight because Firefox is gobbling up all my CPU, and Blogger and Safari don't seem to speak the same language). My long runs recently have been such disasters that I wasn't at all sure I'd be able to last 100 minutes. I knew that if I failed yesterday that it would all be over as far as the Pelorus half is concerned, and that I'd have to seriously talk myself into continuing on. In fact I was already trying to tell myself to give up on Pelorus all together and aim for Wairarapa Country.

It helped that Ingrid made us all run behind her for the first ten minutes as we made our way to the Hutt river trail and then onto the Hutt Rd. She started out at the pace I was hoping to maintain anyway. I was going for consistency, not speed, so I let much of the pack overtake me without letting it get to me at all. By the time we were nearing Petone it was warming up, and I was already wishing I was carrying water.

Things got abruptly interesting when I crossed a road on a pedestrian (zebra) crossing about 20 minutes in. I looked to my right and there were no cars turning into the street. I looked down the street and there was nothing coming. Rose was at my shoulder as I ran across the road, and I heard her cry out before I saw a road cyclist heading straight for me. He swore, I swore, he braked, I braked. I ended up kind of running into him in slow motion, my knee colliding with his pedal, his helmet smacking me on my right cheekbone.

I thought he was going to go over, but he somehow managed to unclip and stabilise himself. I said something about being a cyclist as well, but that this was a pedestrian crossing and he was supposed to stop or slow down and keep out of our way. I should have just kept my mouth shut, but I was charged with adrenalin and speaking out of shock more than anything. He told me where to go, then clipped back in and cycled off. I rubbed at my face and kept running!

To be honest I was more worried about getting some water than I was about any damage. It wasn't until I could see my cheek swelling underneath my eye that it occured to me that I might have some battle wounds! Sure enough, I now have a nice black eye, and Hamish's boss is teasing him about being a wife beater. Yeah - as if! I also have a pretty impressive bruise on my left knee, although that didn't really start hurting until today. I may be little, but I guess I'm tough!

Finally we made it to the Petone foreshore and we ducked down onto the path that runs between the sand dunes and the beach. The first block of toilets we came to were closed, but the second were open and we stopped briefly for a comfort stop and a drink. I splashed some water on my eye and then we kicked off again. A quick look at my watch showed that we'd been out for forty minutes. By this time we were running with Ingrid and Margriet. Margriet is a lovely older woman with a huge sense of humour. She and I both have blonde bobs, and every Wednesday we both run in our Addidas running tights, Addidas wind parkers and our SPARC duathlon shirts. Margriet was on fire today and left us all in her dust.

We were assisted a little by the occasional tailwind which carried us to Seaview. The temperature was still rising, and when I spotted a tap sticking out of the wall in the Beaurepairs I stopped off for another drink. This is what running in warm weather reduces me to, drinking out of scody taps on the side of the road! There must be a better way...

We ran to the end of Seaview on the grass verge and then we turned onto the Port Rd. From here back to the gym we were running into a stiff Northerly that was less than pleasant. Rose overtook me, and then Ann (!) overtook me as well when I stopped off at another random tap for another drink. The speedies were ahead of us now, having taken a bit of an unplanned detour that enabled us to catch up.

By this point I was getting flashbacks to the Harbour Capital half. I was rapid-cycling between these crazy bursts of energy, when I would speed up and start to push, and between feeling like crap and wanting to die. Each episode would last no more than a few minutes, like my body couldn't decide what it wanted to do. It was starting to drive me crazy! Mad Dog did kick in though, and there was no way I was giving in...

Finally we were on the Hutt River trail, but I got a bit disoriented and for some reason thought we had a lot further to go than we actually did. Things got a bit chaotic as part of the path was closed off. We jumped over the fence and kept running anyway, having to pick our way along the grass next to big bulldozers and workmen giving us odd looks. We carefully edged our way down the stop bank, through some mud at the bottom, then made our way back up again. Then it was under a bridge and back towards the Lower Hutt town centre. I was incredibly overjoyed to see the car park between the stop bank and the river, as I knew we were only a few minutes from the gym. We had to dodge cyclists and pedestrians carrying big bags of vegetables and fruit from the farmer's market, but that only made things more interesting!

At last we made it back to the gym. So much for 100 minutes - we ended up out there for just under two hours! I managed to put on a little burst of speed at the end and felt pretty good afterwards. I was just pleased to be able to keep running for that amount of time, given that even 80 minutes had seemed impossible the week before. My poor feet weren't feeling that great though. I've developed some impressive blisters on the soles. My beloved Orca socks are fine for the shorter runs, but I think they slide around a bit much on the longer runs and I may have to give in and try some Thorlos.

My lower back was a bit sore as well. My poor sacroiliac! My right hip and glute were pretty achy, but that's all part of the same injury. It's not really getting any worse though, and I think it will resolve itself. I can't be bothered going back to my physio for a telling off, so it will just jolly well have to! Given how dead my shoes are I'm pleased that my knees are feeling good, my shins are fine, and I took my sore glutes as a good sign that they were actually being used.

As soon as I made it through the gym doors I was on the lookout for a water cooler. I stood at the first fountain I could find gulping down cold liquid for several minutes, just not able to get it in quickly enough. I know that I was well hydrated beforehand, so the warmer temperatures obviously did make a difference. Mum's offered to buy me a Camelbak for Christmas, and at this rate I'm definitely going to need one.

A quick stretch and then it was into the car for a four hour drive to Taranaki to spend some quality time with my parents. For the record, sitting in a car for that period of time after the longest run you've done in two months, not such a good idea. By the end of the drive I could barely flex my right ankle! Thankfully Mum and Dad have carpet (what a luxury) and a nice hot fire. The lounge reached temperatures of Bikram proportions, inspiring me to spend an hour or so sitting in front of the television dong hamstring stretches, hip openers, twists and downwards dogs until even my dodgy right hip started to let go. It must have helped because I felt great today - almost no pain whatsoever. I was almost inspired enough to head out along the Patea River for a half hour recovery run. Hmmm, almost, but not quite!

It was a lovely afternoon for a drive yesterday. For once there was (almost) no rain. The spring sun was shining on the green pastures of the Manawatu and Southern Taranaki, National Radio played the whole way up the island, and a post-run gentle sense of well-being and euphoria settled in. I drove along mulling over my training and slowly concluding that I am going to run the Pelorus half. I know that I can do it. I've run the course a couple of times now. I'm familiar enough with its little tricks and its rhythms, its stages. I don't think it's going to be a fast run. It somehow seems like a slower course than the Harbour Capital. However it's going to be fun. I recognised my mind and body responding yesterday the way that it did on the day of the last race. I know how "I" work now.

I'm doing things in exactly the way I should have expected myself to. I just got here a couple of weeks later than I did last time around, which in a way is good because I'm not feeling overtrained having backed off a bit this week. According to my Pip predictor I'm going to head out this weekend and run a hard, fast 90 minutes and be completely thrilled with myself. On the day I'm going to respond to having a few other runners around me. I'm going to be so focused on picking one off after another that I'm not going to notice the discomfort I'm in. When I reach the the 16km mark I'm going to be happy that I've only got 5km left to run, because 5km is nothing, and this time I'm going to put a little extra speed in.

I made it to Taranaki in good time, had a huge roast lamb dinner with my family, watched some amusing British melodrama and then slept incredibly soundly on their spare futon, undisturbed by husband or cats. The next morning Mum made us all french toast with banana, stewed plums and yoghurt, then we all went for a bracing walk along Hawera Beach. After that we returned home for more food (fresh bread and a spread of delicatessan items) before sitting around in the sun for a while reading. Finally it was time for me to jump back in the car again. I arrived at the Kapiti Coast in time to see the sun setting over the tip of the South Island. How much do I love living here? Almost as much as Kate (again, no link) loves running around the Southern Coast.

I'm so looking forward to my runs this week. I think I finally got that loving feeling back. Bring it on. Bring it alllllll on!!!

Spring is here! Acchhhhoooo

Well, the last few days have been beautiful here in Wellington, and it seems that Wednesday's sneezes were more a sign of the change in season than a simple overreaction to the speed test. I do seem to remember reading that it was pine pollen time. I've been sneezing madly ever since.

Duck left my legs alone yesterday morning, as I thought she might. Instead we worked my upper body and core, and my pecs and abs have been rather sore today as a result. It was cold enough to turn my hands to ice cubes at 6.50 yesterday morning on my way to the bus, but by lunchtime the temperature gauge was being much more forgiving. the sun was out and there was a notable lack of any kind of wind.

By ten to twelve I had given up trying to pretend I was working and was donning running tights and trainers. There's something very handy about working right above the Terrace gym! It was a toss-up between running around the Bays or heading for Kelburn, but the opportunity to run for half an hour without traffic lights had me heading up Bowen. Besides, I'd been looking out the window at the Botanical Gardens all morning, and I was itching to test myself on the climb.

I took Bowen Street fairly easily and was ripping my polyprop off by the time I got to Tinakori. I'm not quite sure why I felt the need to take it with me in the first place. I guess it's a psychological crutch to get me out the door.

I was following a male runner up Bowen and I followed him across the road and up Glenmore, alongside the Gardens. By Garden Rd it occurred to me that I was steadily gaining on the man. Now, I'm not speedy on the hills, and this guy looked fairly athletic (mid-40s, with the physique of a runner), but I had him in my sights. I put on a burst of speed, and suddenly he was behind me!

I'm not exactly twinkle-toes and I've had to work hard on my footfall. Sarah still has to remind me to keep my feet light every now and then. However this guy was REALLY heavy. He wasn't so much running up the hill as he was shuffling. I had to listen to him slapping away behind me the rest of the way up to Kelburn, and I think it gave me extra momentum to keep moving.

I'm happy to say my own hill technique was much better. I really concentrated on gliding up the incline, using lots of leg-lift and glute action, and imagining a string pulling my head up so that my torso didn't fall forwards. It felt great - like I was bouncing or skipping rather than grinding.

I crossed over halfway up the hill so that I could run in the shade. It felt like the top of the rise would never come. I was sure that someone had added a couple of extra corners in while I wasn't looking. Finally I was running over the viaduct enroute to the Kelburn shops. On the flat I picked up the pace and was satisfied that I was running quite strongly. However someone behind me must have had some pride to recover, because Mr Heavy feet came flying up behind me. I smiled and said hello as he drew level and he commented about it being his turn. I told him to go for it and waved him past. I was hoping to catch him again on the downhill through the Gardens, but he must have taken a different path and I never saw him again. I'm still genuinely puzzled by his speed on level territory compared to his speed on the hill. Perhaps he's a visitor from somewhere very flat!

I was still feeling good by the time I made it to the entry to the Gardens at the top of the cable car. I decided not to stop to admire the view from the lookout and instead continued down the hill, taking the longer walk back to town via the sculpture walk and snatching views of the harbour as I could. I even remembered to keep an eye out for the turn-off to the Serpentine Walk. Usually I forget and end up at the main entrance on Glenmore Rd, then have to run my way back up through the pines to get to the herb garden. This time I really wanted to go via the Serpentine Walk because I wanted to run on the trail under the shade of the bush.

I had great fun running on the well-graded gravel path, which twists amusingly sharply down to the Rose Gardens. I found the gravel much easier on my knees and when a slower pair of runners appeared ahead of me I decided to make up for being overtaken by the guy with the heavy feet. I changed gear, picked up the speed and overtook them at the first opportunity. The woman in the pair exclaimed as I disappeared off around the next corner.

The bottom of the path came up too soon, and I kept up a fast pace past the Rose Gardens, only slowly slightly as I entered the cemetery in order to spare my knees again. As I passed the crumbling graves the scent of early spring flowers flooded my senses. The last few verses of a poem I have been working on sprung unbidden into my mind. I can honestly say that's the first time I have ever composed a poem while running!

I crossed over the motorway then ducked down to run back to the gym alongside the motorway. I picked up the pace again, with the aim of making it back to the gym in under 37 minutes. I fairly flew down the last little stretch of Aurora Terrace, thoroughly terrifying a woman too busy feeding change into a parking meter to notice the runner rapidly approaching. I reached out and grasped a conveniently placed awning pole and used it to spin around the corner onto the Terrace, coming to a stop at the entrance to the gym in just under 37. Success!

What a great run! That's what this is all about. It's supposed to be fun! I didn't go out thinking "this is half-marathon training". I went out there thinking "it's a gorgeous day and I'm going to celebrate by running in the sun in some gorgeous gardens". I felt so much better about things, and that feeling got me through work today, and carried me through a lovely Balance class. My poor abs and hips though!

So let's see how tomorrow goes. I can always view Pelorus as a 'C' race. A Wairarapa Country entry form arrived in the post today. Pelorus can always be training for the moment I head out there to pick Masterton's bones. Bring it on!

Hack, Cough, Acchoooo

No, I don't have a cold, but my body has once again decided to initiate an immune defense following a 2.4km time trial tonight. I wasn't psyched for it, I wasn't warmed up enough, and I wasn't expecting a good time.

I set out quite fast, and although my first split was slower than when I ran my personal best my pace throughout was more consistent. Of course I hated every second of it, but I felt reasonably strong the whole way. Let's ignore the fact that I considered stopping when I recorded a slower first split and realised I wasn't going to be personal besting. However I decided to at least aim for under 11 minutes and kept going. I probably lost a few seconds in the slow-down of indecision though.

It was a nice if cold night, and I was ripping off my wind parker by half way. It was so calm that it seemed a shame not to be taking a longer run around the Bays. I think I picked up the pace again in the last quarter, and certainly I was dogged enough not to let myself peter out. So how did I do? 10.45 compared to a personal best of 10.36 earlier this year. I was annoyed until I worked out that was a difference of only slightly more than two seconds on each quarter. That's nothing! I know I wasn't pushing myself as hard as I was to get 10.36, and I certainly didn't feel as destroyed afterwards, although my chest was still hurting and I've emptied my lungs of any residual phlegm that might have been lurking there. Given how badly things have been going lately, I'll take it.

I'm still not sure whether I was right to take yesterday as a complete rest day. I want to do at least half an hour, preferably 40, which seems to be the time at which I usually start to really settle into a run. We're running 100 minutes this weekend and I'm in no way sure of how I'm going to do. At least my legs won't be as slammed! I think tomorrow's run will be a good indicator of where I'm really at.

BTW: tonight's star was a newbie who managed to knock a whopping three whole minutes off her time. It's amazing how sticking to a training programme can help even someone who's starting completely from scratch.

Talking myself down off the ledge

After Saturday's effort it's been a battle to retain confidence in my ability to run the half marathon in three weeks. Yes - it's only three weeks away! A few of us have commented that we don't feel as prepared this time around. It's occurred to me that I haven't been doing as much running with this programme. Whereas last time I was running five to six days a week this programme I've still been doing the RPM and sometimes not running on the days I also have a session with Duck. Plus we started working my legs a lot later in the training this time, and we're still working them hard a lot later. I think I've simply been getting to Saturday with nothing left to give.

So - my new plan for this week is to cut out my extra leg session and to keep up the running. Rather than weights before RPM tomorrow night I'm going to do a light half hour run. I'll run with the Squad on Wednesday night, train with Duck on Thursday morning, and go for another light run on Thursday. I'll do Balance on Friday and then hopefully I'll be feeling good on Saturday for our 100 minute run. Tomorrow may have to be my last RPM until after Pelorus, and I'll keep the dial light (huh, yeah right!).

As always, my Monday night run went well enough that I regained a little confidence. We did the same speed session from a couple of weeks ago - warm up from Ferg's to the new Subway in Chaffer's Park, sprint back as far as the bridge closest to the entrance to Te Papa (the one that raises up), jog slowly to Fergs, turn around and sprint back to the bridge, slow to Subway, sprint to the bridge, slow to Fergs, sprint back to the bridge, then a shorter sprint to the St Johns building and back, then 20 walking lunges and 15 tricep dips, then a walk back to the gym.

I kept pace with Sarah for the first sprint. In other words I went waayyyyy too fast! During the warm-up I'd felt pretty good. I was imagining my head being pulled up by a piece of string, pushing off my back foot and engaging my glutes. Of course all form went out the window during the sprints, but the thought was there! I felt sooo slow, but I think it's more that the younger girls have gotten so much faster. Darn unfair advantage of youth...

Kate got me thinking about ways to finish off my run if I leave from home on a Saturday morning. It occurred to me that there's a dairy in Vogeltown/Mt Cook on the corner of Liardet Street that I could stop at. I could then walk up the steps between Balfour and Ingestre Street to make my way home. A bit of a killer way to end the workout though! If only the house below us on Balfour Street didn't have a back yard full of blackberry. I could take a sneaky shortcut through their back yard otherwise! Although I might need a ladder to get from their back yard to ours...

Right, off to bed. Let's see if I can dream some positive running visualisations.

Note to self

If going for a 90 minute run on a Saturday morning, do not eat two slices of Vogel's with jam shortly beforehand. You know that's the one thing most likely to make you want to vomit 30 minutes into your run.

Sometimes your body does know best If your body tells you it wants to wait another day to go on a long run then listen to it. If your body says it's had enough, sometimes it really means it. 80 minutes is not a failure.

Darn that Northerly was brisk this morning. I hate how it seems to come from all directions at once! On the plus side, running around the Southern coast was gorgeous, and the Kaikouras were stunning in the distance all covered in snow.

One more run down. Balance tomorrow and a huuuggggeeee stretch.

Monday Mad Dog Mojo

After Saturday's effort I took Sunday off, then skipped leg weights on Monday morning with the aim of leaving my legs as fresh as possible for a run that night. I desperately needed to have a good run and I needed to prove to myself that I could still do this.

I still wasn't terribly sure of myself when I met the squad that night. My legs still felt a bit sore from Saturday, and my confidence had taken a hit. However determination got me through. I knew as we ran up Dixon that I was feeling quite strong. My hunch that even a disastrous 90 minute run would up my endurance seemed to prove to be correct.

I took the Dixon Street steps at an easy pace, knowing that I would catch everyone on the Terrace downhill. Indeed, I was starting to catch up before we got to the top of the hill opposite Salamanca Terrace. By the time I got to Bowen Street only Sarah and Karen were ahead of me, although I couldn't see them anywhere.

Rose helped me out by pushing me on, sitting hard on my heels. Molesworth passed by without me even noticing, and at that point I really started to believe that I was running well. Down Tinakori, again with Rose at my heels. We matched each other step for step down Thorndon Quay. She overtook me when I walked the steps up to the stadium concourse, silently cursing the missed opportunity to take a rest break at the Quay lights.

Running along Thorndon Quay I experienced another of those little 'aha' moments. I was meditating on the mental state that is the good run, and thinking about those nights that I had barely even noticed the gorgeous evening around me. suddenly I felt like I was floating above my body, that my self was running in my mind. I had a sense that I had been letting my mind get bogged down in the weight and physicality of my body, and that I had allowed myself to suffer from the more painful aspects of running as a result.

I messed around with this concept for a few minutes, and discovered that I could shift my experiential run from my mind to my body, just by deciding how I wanted to 'feel'. I ended up settling somewhere between the two. Running in my mind was less painful, but also took a lot more mental energy to sustain, for obvious reasons. A part of me felt like apologising to Rose, as I could hear some of the others chatting away behind us. I'm not a talker when I run. I like having the others around me, but I usually need to focus all my energy on what I'm doing.

Onto the waterfront, now with Lisa, Trudi and some of the other speedier runners at my heels. No sign of Sarah or Karen. Still feeling good. We made it to Te Papa just on 40 minutes. I've gotten there faster, but doubling back on the concourse to take the ramp down to the waterfront added some extra distance. I waited for my energy levels to start to dive, but they remained steady. Finally I saw Karen ahead at Fisherman's Table heading down onto the beach. A minute or two later I was also running along the sand.

Rose had run ahead of me at the concourse and met up with Felicity as we neared Fisherman's Table. I overtook them again as we headed back to the gym. Mad dog had well and truly kicked in and I was enjoying still feeling good. I made it back to the gym in 57 minutes, then ran around the block for a total of 60, sprinting the last couple of hundred metres.

So I was thrilled with Monday's run. I followed that up with a Balance on Tuesday, some more squats, box knee-raises and glute work after work, followed by RPM. My legs were feeling sore from Monday night, more sore than I'd expected. However I still felt good. At some point though I've aggravated my sacroiliac again. I can feel the familiar ache in my right hip and pinch in my glute.

With self-preservation in mind I was hoping for a shorter run on Wednesday. I got up and went to the gym before work. I had to force myself to get out of bed, and switched my alarm off at least a couple of times. Once I got there though I did the whole workout, as I always do. when I met the squad that night I was a bit tired, but not too bad, although my legs were definitely feeling it. So I was surprised by how well the evening went.

First, an easy 30 minute run out around the Bays and back. Once again I noted a general underlying strength, and my legs cooperating despite being tired. I sat somewhere near the front until we started heading up Majoribanks Street, then I allowed the younger of the squad to forge ahead.

We stopped at the bottom of Hawker street and then ran for three minutes up the hill, ran back down, then ran up again for two minutes. We were supposed to go as hard as we could up the hill, but with my hip and glute pain I wasn't terribly keen to push it that intensely. All the same, the Monastery arrived before I knew it. I remembered the last time Sarah and I had run this way, and the way that I had wanted to vomit by the time I got to the top. This time I felt that I could have kept going.

I pushed it a little harder the second time, and when I got to the end of the second minute I considered continuing to the top again. However I saw Sarah coming back down the hill and decided to follow. when we got to the bottom and Duck tricked us into thinking we had to run up again for another minute I was ready to go and had my watch set within a few seconds.

I wore off that enthusiasm by racing Karen back down Courtney to Xtreme. I was fully sprinting by the time we got back. It felt fantastic! I wish I felt that way the next day though. Duck put me through a fairly intense and fun workout involving 20kg power bags, lengths of the gym my arms extended upwards, and stepping up and down off a box step. Stepping up and down off the box was particularly scary, as I fought the instinctual feeling that 20kg was about to drop on my head. Some low, low walking lunges, more box step leg raises, some core work, and I was reasonably confident I was going to hurt at some point.

I spent the rest of the day at home and had to eventually email Sarah to get her permission to skip my last homework run. I was gutted to have to do this, because outside the weather was perfect. However with my hip issues, tight Archilles and sore heel (I think my shoes are dying rapidly) I was wary about pushing my body. In the end I settled for a 20 minute walk to the Brooklyn shops, then 20 minutes back again.

Today my glutes are indeed feeling yesterday's session with Duck. My hip's a bit better and my ankle's almost right again. I'm cautiously optimistic about my 90 minute run in the morning. I'm planning to head out from home for a change, running down Happy Valley and around the Southern Coast to Lyall Bay. From there I'll decide whether I want to climb through Newtown and back home again. The idea of Brooklyn Hill or Farnham Street at the end of the run doesn't do much for me, so I may end up walking the last stretch, or finishing up in town and bussing home.

I still need to work out how to help my legs recover better. I seem to just be naturally tight. I may need to follow up on those supplements I was writing about a while back, as much as it pains me to admit it. I wish I was one of those people who can run and run and never feel a thing. I guess we all have to work with what we are given.

Doing the hard yards

Me as a Simpson, apparently.

There's a gale-force northerly blowing through Wellington at the moment. We seem to have had so few big blows lately that I think I'm out of practice in dealing with them. I'm sitting on the sofa in our lounge looking out over Berhampore and Newtown, watching the neighbour's Norfolk Pine bending at hazardous angles. Earlier this morning I wasn't watching the wind, I was battling it.

The Jog Squad met at the Lower Hutt gym at 9.00 this morning. the wind was blowing then as well, but it was at least dry and reasonably warm. My legs were still feeling the week's exertions - the rolling hill run on Monday, Balance and a hard fast half hour run up Bowen, down Tinakori and around Thorndon Quay on Tuesday, speed work around the waterfront on Wednesday, a leg session with Duck on Thursday morning, an RPM class that lunchtime, and a Balance class on Friday. I had given myself permission to have a slow run, but in my mind that meant sticking to a steady pace somewhere near the mid of the pack.

In short, today's run was hell. Yet I don't feel bad about it for some strange reason. In part this is because, even though I gave up in the sense that I had walk breaks, I didn't give up in the sense that I stuck at it for the whole 13.5km rather than taking a short-cut back to the gym.

From Pretoria Street we ran up onto the Hutt River trail and down in the direction of Petone. I stuck with the front pack for a while, but was running at a pace that was faster than I wanted, so dropped back. Construction work meant we had to detour onto suburban streets, leading eventually down to the Petone foreshore. I got the stitch after 20 minutes and slowed down to a genuine plod.

the Petone foreshore finally appeared and I ran its distance into a horrific headwind. When I got to Cuba Street I considered heading straight back to the gym, but my watch read 38 minutes, and I was half-way, so it seemed more sensible to mad dog to keep going. Besides, I didn't want to risk getting lost, and I could still spy a Hutt Jog Squadder in the distance.

Onto the Hutt Rd and I plodded, mixed with a little walking, back up towards the Hutt. I got lost trying to find Melling, found myself back on the Hutt River trail, and started to sniff home. Then, with another five minutes or so to run, the clouds burst. Within seconds I was drenched, but there was nothing left in me to speed up.

I'm going to take heart from this run, knowing that even the bad runs will improve my fitness and endurance. Next week I will try to concentrate my hard leg workouts earlier in the week, with the aim of getting to Saturday with enough in the tank to get me through 90 minutes of steady running. there must be something I'm not doing quite right at the moment, so I will have to try to work out exactly what.

The Good Times, They Are A-coming ...

It's Monday, so it must be Jog Squad. Tonight's run came within a few milimetres of being one of those glorious, ecstatic runs. Oooh, it was good and yet it hurt at the same time. Even as I was running I knew that this was one run that would pool in my belly and that the warmth would spread out afterwards, overflowing slowly so that by the time I finished dinner and settled on the sofa with the cats my whole body would be experiencing a soft heat of satisfaction. But first I had to push through the hurt.

We ran an interesting route tonight. From the gym we ran over to Tory Street, then up Tasman. From Tory Street we were climbing, sometimes gradually, sometimes reasonably steeply. I've never run up Tasman before, and it's a lovely street. Now I can understand why people are so opposed to the swimming pool there being demolished for a supermarket. It would totally destroy the character of the area.

I thought I was at the top of the hill, then it was over the ridge only to find that the street kept climbing. My leg strength is recovering quickly, and the uphill stretches felt much stronger than they have lately. I made the most of the brief downhill, then it was another long, slow climb up Adelaide Rd. I paced easily upwards, then it was time to lengthen my stride downhill. Left at the BP station, a brief climb up Riddiford, then downhill, sweet downhill all the way back to the gym.

Duck told us to continue around the Bays if we got back to Courtney too quickly. I decided to run around the block instead, making it back to the gym in 45 minutes and circling for a total of 50. I ended up running on my own for most of the evening, catching the speedies briefly when we all congregated at the lights in Newtown, but then losing them again in a series of light changes around the Basin.

I'm happy with tonight's run though. I accomplished what I wanted to do. I didn't feel compelled to stop, I maintained a fairly fast pace, and I could feel my leg strength and cardiovascular fitness climbing back to where they should be. My archilles is feeling ok, my knees feel fine. I might be in a good place by the time Pelorus comes around after all.

Home to a dinner of chickpeas and potatoes in a butter-chicken style sauce (substituting light evaporated milk for the cream, and without any butter) over basmati rice, and sparkling water mixed with some 42 Below honey vodka and lime and chilli syrup. There's nothing like good food after a good run.

So tomorrow I'll do a Balance class, and then another leg circuit combined with either an RPM class or run. Right now it's time to finish watching Flight of the Concords, a shower and bed.

One More for Luck

Three posts on a Sunday night? Yes, actually I do have better things to do (Mary Oliver calls) but I'm going to post very quickly about Saturday's run.

Sarah has already posted about her monster hill run. I wasn't up for it myself. Maybe in a couple of weeks, but not when I'm still on the comeback trail. Instead I opted for 70 minutes around the Bays, on the flat. Four people and two cars led to a bit of logistical juggling on Saturday morning, but I ended up taking Piglet (our apricot VW Polo) off to the Terrace gym.

I left the Terrace at around 8.30 and jogged slowly down to the waterfront as a warm-up. My legs were still fatigued from Thursday, and I knew this wasn't going to be effortless. It was a cool morning with a slight breeze and there weren't many people around. The Herd Street Bistro was just starting to take in its first few customers of the day. Around Oriental Bay a couple in a house truck were brewing up some coffee, the wind turbine on the truck's roof spinning frantically. I passed three other Squadders, two running and one out walking with her partner and dog. I felt happy to be part of a community, and couldn't help notice that nearly every walker or runner that morning smiled and greeted me in passing.

I'm frustrated that I seem to be battling the old mental demons at the moment. My mind is running through a familiar dialog. A voice in my head continually asks me why I'm doing this, wonders why it's so hard, pleads to stop, states emphatically that I should just quit. Something says it would be easier to stop pushing, to just go home and be like normal people. But the alternative to running is to go soft, to lose the sharp edges that being so fit gives me. Life would be easier in some respects, but it wouldn't be so bright and shiny. My senses would dim and a part of me would fall asleep. That's a sacrifice I'm just not willing to make. So I will continue to push myself, and that voice will just have to shut up.

This was the first over-60 minute run I've done since the Harbour Capital half marathon, so I'm not surprised it felt hard. Given that and the fatigued legs and in retrospect it wasn't so bad. I stopped for water at Balaena Bay, made it to Greta Point, and stopped again for water at Balaena and Freyberg on the way back. I suspect I was a bit dehydrated, which wouldn't have helped. It took over 40 minutes to settle into the high-mileage stride that got me through the half marathon training.

I made it back to the gym in time to jump up the front of Clare's Body Balance class. My legs really were tired, but I still managed the strength poses fairly easily. I concentrated on keeping my shoulders back and down, and on lifting my ribs around in Warrior 2. I loved the sun salutes, relishing the big intake of breathe as we rose up into extended mountain pose. My balance clicked on both legs, and my hips are opening in response to all the stretches I've been doing since the abductor injury. Even my hamstrings seemed to give a little more than usual.

By the time I met with Hamish, Nic, Leonie and Helen for lunch at the Matterhorn (a table that continued to grow in size as the meal went on), I was hungry enough to devour all three of our cats. I was also growing very tired, very quickly. Once I would have been able to do a long run and a Balance and go home still full of energy. Apparently I'm not at that point at the moment. I spent the afternoon chatting to Helen in our kitchen, all the while fighting an insane urge to sleep. Needless to say, with sore legs today, I wasn't up for anything more strenuous than a one-hour walk into town to celebrate Leonie's birthday at One Red Dog. Two bottles of cider over lunch and I was following Hamish around Mitre 10 wanting to buy everything in the store...

Our LCD TV is now suspended on the wall. I love it when husband gets all home handyman on me! Tomorrow's plans are to rest my legs until Jog Squad tomorrow night. Doing a circuit before RPM seemed to work well last week, so I'm aiming for the same tomorrow.

Now, time to extricate myself from beneath two large, slumbering Burmese cats and go to bed.

The Return of the Suicide Sprint

Or, how to get what you ask for ...

After Monday night's run it was clear to me that I need to get my leg strength back up, and I've been doing this stuff for long enough to know what I have to do! After a good Balance class on Tuesday (where once again I was able to focus on my breathing, and my balance poses flowed) Duck suggested that I do a circuit workout before her 6.35 RPM class. This is what I came up with:

• 24 walking lunges with a 15kg power bag, followed by
• 20 squats with the same power bag, followed by
• 15 jumping squats, followed by
• a one minute hover, followed by
• 10 full press-ups.

I ran through that four times, and still had some time left over, so did four sets of swiss-ball hamstring curls and jack-knives, then four sets of calf-raises. Then I went downstairs and did some work on my abductor. After all that I was thoroughly sweaty and it was time for RPM. The most notable feature of the class was the amount of sweat that continued to pour off me, to the point where I was mopping off my chest with my hand-towel. Obviously I managed to stumble across a very effective combination of workouts, and I would love to know how many calories I burned through.

I went home feeling very mad dog and much happier about my fitness levels. However by the end of Wednesday and a frustrating day at work I was feeling exhausted and unmotivated. Even as I was changing before Jog Squad I was contemplating just packing it in and going home for a glass of wine. I'm glad I stuck it out though. Each run I tick off improves a little. Wednesday's run felt pretty horrid until about half an hour in, when I pulled myself out of the mire for long enough to realise I was feeling ok.

We ran up Willis Street, up Aro Street to the shops, back over the pedestrian crossing, down Webb Street, up Wallace Street to Newtown, then back down around the Basin to Courtney Place and back to the gym. From there I ran around the block to bring the total running time to 40 minutes. The speedies took off early in the run, but then they've increased in fitness when I've been recovering from injury, so I can't feel sad about losing my brief spot at the front of the pack. Instead, running on my own, I was able to settle into a good pace.

I still didn't have the strength I would have liked on the rolling hills, but coming back down Adelaide Rd and Cambridge I was able to once again crank up my glutes and turn up the speed a bit. Although that little voice in my head was complaining, when I really challenged myself I had to admit that I could keep going, and for quite a bit longer. So now I'm looking forward to running 70 minutes this weekend, just to see what I can do. I went home in an excellent mood, which just goes to show I did the right thing by choosing cardio over wine, and that endorphins are a wonderful thing!

My legs were feeling it a bit as I walked up the steps to the gym for my session with Duck this morning. They weren't terribly keen on the exercycle when I was warming up either. Which was all rather worrying, because I suspected that I was in for the Aurora Terrace suicide sprint workout of doom... Not that Duck's predictable or anything, but ...

And sure enough, it was off to Aurora Terrace. To explain, Aurora Terrace runs very steeply up the side of the gym, with a bridge over a four-lane motorway. At 7.30 in the morning most of the pedestrian traffic consists of people on their way down the hill to work. My office looks directly down on the bridge. And it was here that we did the following:

• A warm-up walk up to the top of the bridge and back again, with me holding a 10kg powerbag straight up over my head and Duck hassling me every time my arms started to bend.
• A round of suicide sprints (a short sprint uphill and slow descent, followed by a longer sprint halfway up the bridge and slow descent, then a sprint right to the top of the bridge and VERY slow descent)
• A set of walking lunges up Aurora Terrace to roughly the mid-point of the bridge, with the power bag on my back
• Another, shorter set of walking lunges up the Terrace with the power bag held straight up over my head.
• Another round of suicide sprints.

Somehow that doesn't seem like enough sprints up the Terrace. Perhaps there were one or two straight uphill sprints that I blocked out. I do remember wondering whether I was going to vomit at one point. I do remember feeling like I was going to die while at the same time flogging myself mentally for not going harder. I distinctly remember not being able to catch my breath on the last return downhill. I remember being happy that we had returned to a "this is killing me in the best possible way" level of intensity.

From there it was back to the gym, and the workout continued:

• walking duck squats (a kind of wide-legged waddle) the length of the weights floor, with a 20kg power bag
• 20 basic squats with the power bag, then
• walking duck squats back again with the power bag, then
• a repeat of the duck squats and basic squats with a 15kg power bag, then
  
• another set of walking squats, this with legs hip-distance apart, crouching down very low the entire length of the weights floor, again with the power bag, then
• 20 lunges with the power bag, then returning in the crouched walking squat position, then
• another set of walking squats and lunges with the power bag.

We finished that off with four sets of calf raises. Phew! All of which left me thanking my personal trainer and staggering to the showers. If that workout doesn't earn me some results I don't know what will!

I have nothing more strenuous planned for tomorrow than a Balance class. I suspect I will be a little stiff in the morning. My metabolism has gone insane this week. I'm eating like crazy and only just managing to maintain my weight over 55kg. My body will appreciate the rest.

Finally, here's an interesting post from the Running Chick that I wish I had written myself. It's all about how we runners tend to push ourselves too hard, and about learning balance.

Bidwill Street Kicked My Butt

Ingrid has been taking lessons from Duck. Do not believe this woman when she says that tonight's run is an easy half an hour. Those of us seasoned Jog Squadders will remember the days of training diaries and the innocuous "flat run" note alongside a scheduled Jog Squad run. Substitute the words "short hill" for "flat run" and you'll start to see where tonight's run is heading!

We started easily, with a fairly fast-paced run along Courtney and up Cambridge to the Basin. From there we hung a right up Buckle Street back onto Taranaki. From there it was uphill to Bidwill, and then straight up. Short hill? Yeah, right.

Halfway up I found myself standing doubled in one spot, without any recollection of actually having stopped. It was all I could do to get to the top of the hill. I got overtaken by certain Jog Squadders on the way, but was happy with that, because certain members have obviously gotten quite a bit fitter of late!

Once we were on the downhill though the world was Pip's. Flying past at a Mad Dog clip I muttered something over my shoulder about reclaiming some lost pride. By the bottom of the hill I'd caught up with Legs and Sarah, Trudi and co again, and from there we all ran back down Willis and Dixon to the gym, pretty much right on half an hour. I wanted to prove something to myself, so sprinted with Karen the length of Dixon. Now that felt good!

I have definitely lost some leg strength over the last month. My quads in particular seem to have gotten weaker, possibly because I was reluctant to use too much leg lift when I was running with the abductor strain. I've only been doing my lower body weights every fortnight on average, and with Duck staying away from my lower body and a number of lower-impact workouts on the x-trainer and spin classes, things have definitely atrophied. I think my cardio fitness has dropped off a little, but not as much as my leg strength.

I may be the only client in record who has asked their personal trainer to insert hill repeats into their training programme. As I was running Bidwill I was thinking back to the days of suicide sprints up Aurora Terrace with the Special K squad. I find myself longing for the pain. The thing I want the most right now is to be able to run hills with power and form. Bring on the quads and buns of steel...

I'll take it

Today's image is of the lagoon next to the boathouse, including the city-to-sea bridge and, to the right of the photo, the albatross sculpture. The Jog Squad sometimes does circuit training around here.

Leonie sent me a text at around 7am this morning to let me know they'd missed their connecting flight and were now going to be arriving around 10. I lay in bed for a while but never really went back to sleep and it slowly dawned on me that everything outside was quiet and still. Sure enough, it was a mild calm morning and I had just enough time to fit in my 35 minute homework run. I also wanted the opportunity to prove to myself that I could have an ok run still.

Running from home equals rolling hills, downhill stretches and uphill climbs. From the top of our path it's a one minute warm-up run on the flat, then a quick short uphill to the main road, a short flat recovery stretch, a small rolling hill, a short steep hill, then it's downhill all the way to the Brooklyn shops. From there I ran up the very gradual incline to the point where Brooklyn hill drops off down towards town, then turned around and ran past the shops down to Garfield street, where I climbed for about 10 minutes to get back up to the Ridgway. I still had another ten minutes to kill by this point, so ran another couple of rolling hills before turning back down Farnham Street. I picked up the pace and sprinted along our flat street to home.

This still wasn't a fast run and the uphill bits felt harder than they should have done. But I could feel my muscles remembering what to do and my lungs switching back on. It felt good to sprint the last couple of minutes, and I could sense my body preparing for speed again. I'm curious to see how I run tomorrow night, and whether things continue their slow, gradual improvement. I suspect that my leg strength suffered during my confinement to the x-trainer, so I'll make an effort to fit some weights in this week.

So, all up I'm feeling a lot more positive about things, and that's most of the battle won already! It was such a beautiful morning for running, and I had enough time to shower before sitting out on the veranda to watch Nic and Leonie's plane fly in.

Struggling

The photograph above is one of a series I took on my big three hour walk on Tuesday afternoon. The significance of this image is more symbolic for me than anything. This is the start of the 2.4km time trial route from Frank Kitts park to Te Papa. The guy in the blue shirt running in the centre of the shot is at roughly the start line. From there you run between the two chain link fences, then straight down the promenade to Te Papa, where you then hang a left and keep running to the lamp post with the rubbish bin attached at the end of the wharf. You then turn around, run back to the beginning, then repeat. I need this shot to remind me that not that long ago I ran the distance in 10.36, and that I will be fast again.

Tuesday's run, Balance and walk left my calves absolutely rigid for the rest of the week. I missed intervals with the Squad on Wednesday because I was stuck at the hairdresser's. On Thursday morning Duck put me through a series of lunges and squats and ab work. Highlights included walking lunges the length of the gym floor while holding a 10kg straight up above my head, and lying on my back with my legs lifted at a 45 degree angle, with a medicine ball balancing on my shins. This workout consisted of a number of contained moments of intense pain.

My calves were still sore, my archilles niggling, and Hamish and I were off to the Wairarapa for the day. My homework run went out the window in favour of lunch in the sun on the terrace outside the White Swan, then wine tasting around Martinborough. The weather Gods shone upon us and the day felt so decadent that I found myself sitting outside the French Bakery at 3.00 eating a pain au chocolat. Devine!

Friday was the diarised Jog Squad day off. I was considering running anyway, given that I hadn't run since Tuesday, but my calves and archilles were still aching and I was in the midst of holiday-induced lethargy. In fact, but the end of the week I was wondering again whether there was something else going on. I know I've had a bit of an infection, and I suspect they knock me about more than I realise. I know I've been stressed and I know that being pulled out of my normal routine, even to go on holiday, can make me feel worn out. However I was surprised by how little desire I had to run. In the end I compromised by walking into town, taking Ohiro Rd down to Aro Valley, then cutting through onto the bottom of the Terrace for a rolling hill walk to my office. All up it took around an hour.

I don't usually worry about Addison's Disease having an impact on my ability to train, particularly since I came across a couple of Addisonian ultra runners. I've read some research lately that reported a general decline in quality of life rankings around the age of 50, but there seems to be no obvious reason why that would be. It's not so much that I feel Addison's would affect my quality of life, but I do sometimes fear developing yet another auto-immune disease. In particular diabetes would pose a real challenge. However I then remind myself that by staying healthy I'm giving myself the best possible chance of living happily to a ripe old age. I was wondering whether there was something cortisol related going on this week, but given that I'm generally slightly over-medicated it seemed unlikely.

Given my general state of lethargy I knew that this morning's run was probably not going to be the sudden return to form I was hoping for. I ensured that by stupidly drinking most of a bottle of pink bubbly and eating far too many chips and slices of pizza on Friday night at a colleague's leaving party. Stupid, stupid. How could I expect to have a good run dehydrated, queasy and hung over?

So no, this morning was not easy. I guess i can take heart that I did it, and that each kilometre back on the pavement will contribute to the sudden changing of gear I've experienced in the past. My body seems to need high mileage to operate effectively.

Today we were supposed to run for an hour. We headed out along the waterfront, up Bowen, down Tinakori, along Thorndon Quay and back onto the waterfront to the gym. If we got there in under an hour we were supposed to continue running up Taranaki Street. I held my own until we got to Bowen, and then I just faded. Ann has come on in speed amazingly, and she flew past me today, followed closely by Felicity. The bonus of running at my reduced speed was the opportunity to run with Rose, who has the right kind of 'mad dog' attitude to take her a long way with her running.

If I were honest I probably didn't feel as bad as I thought I did on the way back to the gym, but it seemed pretty ugly at the time. My quads just didn't have anything in them. It got me wondering about people who go from no physical activity to running their first half marathon in under two hours, and then musing glumly about my own comparative snail-like traits.

Then I think about that tiny little kid in primary school who was always at the back of everything. And it reminds me of how far I've come.

Having a series of bad runs does not make a runner a failure. Continuing on, pushing through the hard times and emerging stronger and mentally tougher makes a runner a success. Perseverance is the key to getting myself back on top.

NB: Nic and Leonie are flying from San Fran to New Zealand as I type this. The next week and a half or so may well be a little mad. It will be good to have them back in our lives in the physical, even if just for a short time. The coffee is brewing!