Becoming a Runner Again

As Dave sent through my programme exactly three months out from the Rotorua Marathon I knew this was going to hurt. I went into this training knowing that I was going to be really stretching myself, that I was increasing my mileage more than was really advisable, that I was being really ambitious.

In a way, that attitude is going to stand in my favour. I am prepared to push my pain barrier in a way that I haven't for some time. Over the last year it's mostly been about the cycling, and somehow cycling doesn't induce the same kind of pain that running does. The running that I was doing was casual, leisurely almost, focussed on maintaining a minimal base. Having a training programme has given me focus and discipline. The discipline goes both ways. It makes me work hard when I have to work hard, and it stops me from going over the top when I should be resting.

Excitement got me through the first week of marathon training. Marathon training - even typing the two words sends shivers up my spine. Somehow those words make me feel like a real runner.

After my fast 5km run on Monday I was back in the gym early Tuesday morning for a customarily intense RPM. On Wednesday morning I was back at the gym in the morning for a leg workout. I wasn't quite sure what to expect when I set out after work for a 45 minute hill run. I certainly wasn't expecting to have one of the dreamiest runs on record. Earlier in the day as the wind had threatened to knock me off my feet and the rain had poured down on me as I crossed the road to buy some lunch I had a What Would Steve Stenzel Do? moment. Steve is the guy who runs in temperatures so cold that vital bits of the male anatomy freeze up in a disturbing fashion. If Steve can risk his masculinity I can certainly run in a bit of rain!

Thankfully by the time I left the gym the rain had eased to a drizzle and the wind was in an almost kind frame of mind. I took off up Grant Rd, a nice, long and sufficiently challenging gradient, at a steady pace. To my surprise I held that pace the whole way up. Last time I'd run that way with Sarah I'd completely failed.

It was up, up and more up, all the way to Wadestown. The views out over the harbour were mesmerising, and they continued to flirt with me as I ran back down via Wadestown Rd. I fell into an an almost meditative state.

At the bottom of Wadestown Rd I turned right back onto Grant Rd, which undulates gently past a string of historic villas. At the bottom of Grant Rd I turned right onto Tinakori all the way up to Bowen, then it was a lovely smug downhill all the way back to the Terrace and the gym. I clocked that run up as a major success. It was enough of a success to carry me through a post-run Balance class with a smile.

I was up early again the next morning for another RPM, and it's fair to say that my legs were starting to feel the pain by Thursday afternoon as I stiffened up a bit. However I rested completely on Friday (other than a bit of dancing in the sun at the One Love concert) and I was good to go again by Saturday morning. B12 is a wonderful thing, and I certainly recover much faster these days now that I'm receiving monthly shots.

Saturday was down as a two to three hour ride, and I met up with some of the Gearshifters girls for a bit of a workout. I had a simple goal for today Frustrated by my Taranaki performance I decided it was time I finally started standing on my pedals to attack the smaller hills. The Pass of Branda provided a good opportunity, as did the climb up to Brooklyn. The strong northwest headwind provided the rest of the challenge. It wasn't the fastest or hardest of rides, but it was enough.

By Sunday there was a heatwave sweeping the country, kept company by that ever-present strong northerly, and I was down for a 90 minute run with a few hills thrown in. Against all reason I didn't get up early in the morning to get it out of the way while there was still a slight coolness in the air. I didn't leave until after 10am. I also ignored sage advice to take lots of fluid with me. I was only running 90 minutes. Why did I need to hydrate?

I'd mapped out a route in my head that enabled me to leave from home and, following on from some advice Kate gave me a long time ago, finished at a dairy at the bottom of the hill below our house. From the end of my street I turned left and ran downhill for around a kilometre, up another slight hill, down some more, and then I turned left and started running towards the city and the waterfront. By the time I got there I was starting to second-guess my planned route, wondering whether it was too ambitious. I made a pact with myself to run to 45 minutes and then, if I felt I hadn't gone far enough, to turn around and run back towards the city.

Wellington hosted the 7s over the weekend and as I ran down Kent Terrace and along Oriental Parade I dodged hoards of hungover sports fans disgorging from their hotels, blinking in the sunlight. I had to take evasive action more than once as slightly dazed individuals stopped dead in my path. I rolled my eyes and shook my head more than once.

I stuck to the shaded side of the road as much as possible, but by the time I reached Pt Jerningham there was no escaping the full force of the sun. 45 minutes in, however, I was well along my planned route, so decided I would keep going rather than turn around. I stopped at Balaena Bay for water, then plodded my way up over the saddle to Newtown. It was a very grateful Pip who took full advantage of the downhill to the shops. From the bottom of Constable Street I turned left and then the awful realisation hit. From here it was pretty much all uphill. Yes, I had planned my 90 minute run, the longest run I've done in months, so that the last half hour was almost completely uphill, without shade, and into a headwind. Yes, I am an idiot.

I ran to the end of the shops and then, at the base of the next hill, I started to crumble. I stopped and slumped against the side of a handy terrace house, looking up the slope that I normally tackled without issue, but which now seemed like a mountain. This would have been fine had a woman not emerged from the terrace house and flashed me one of those "yes, you really are an idiot" faces. Oh dear. Nothing much for it than to continue on. I shuffled up the hill, turned right, and enjoyed a very slight downhill to Adelaide Rd.

I wanted to weep as I turned right again onto Britomart Rd and faced yet another hill. By now the reserves were all used up. The only thing that kept me going was the thought that in a few short minutes I would be in the dairy buying a Fruju iceblock. I was obsessed with the thought of frozen orange-flavoured ice. I crawled to Liardet Street. Somehow my feet continued to follow one after the other past Macallister Park. As I got to the base of the next little incline, about 50 metres short of the dairy, my Garmin ticked over 90 minutes. I stopped.

I walked very slowly up the hill to the shop, picked up a newspaper, a cold drink and the lusted-after Fruju. I limped over to a seat outside the dairy in the shade. I started to gulp down the drink then realised I felt like I was about to vomit it back up again. I sat there for another five to ten minutes slowly sipping the rest of it. It didn't even taste appealing after all that and I had to force myself to finish it. As I did so the wind picked up and I started to feel chilled. Given that the temperature was still scorching I figured this was a bad sign. I realised that although I was caked with dry sweat I had stopped actually sweating some time ago. I realised this wasn't exactly a good sign either!

Not wanting to sit there on that bench any longer I picked myself up, started on the Fruju (which thankfully DID taste very good), and slowly walked my way back up the very steep hill to home. Before long I was covered in sticky melted iceblock juice as the thing melted faster than I could lick it.

At home I showered, ate blueberry and buckwheat pancakes, and then spent the rest of the day guzzling water like a maniac. Lesson learned. Hydration is essential if one is not to bonk in the most dismal manner when running in a heatwave.

Somehow, even with all the suffering, I managed to maintain Dave's target long run pace. I'm not quite sure how. Call it a miracle. What's even more of a miracle is that I didn't really even feel too sore afterwards, other than a little calf tightness. Sure, I wasn't keen on doing much more than sitting around on the sofa for the rest of the afternoon, but I was still in one piece. Worse things have happened.

So once again I really wasn't expecting to have a good run tonight. My legs were feeling fresher than they had a right to, sure, but yesterday's efforts would surely catch up with me. 7km at a fast pace? Hmm, maybe! The weather conditions weren't promising either, with that northerly threatening galeforce. This was going to have to be one of those suck-it-and-see runs again. Set off, see how the legs feel, push it as hard as possible. I wanted only to keep it honest.

Target pace was 5 to 5.15 minutes per km. To my surprise I managed that for the first couple of kilometres, in fact at times running at a 4.45 pace. I maintained that until I passed Carlton Gore Rd and hit the headwind. I fought that headwind all the way to the other side of Pt Jerningham, at which point it became a mammoth tailwind, which carried me all the way down the straight. I believe this may be where I recorded my fastest pace according to my Garmin - 4.07.

Right on 3.5km (thanks Garmin) I turned and headed back. The stretch of Pt Jerningham that I'd flown down seconds earlier became the stretch of path that at one point reduced me to 7 minutes per kilometre. Groan! I was running through mud!

The headwind was pretty dire the whole way back, and when it was bad I was struggling to hold 6 to 6.30. When it eased off a bit I could hold 5.30 to 5.40 without killing myself. When it disappeared I was back in the 5 to 5.15 money zone. With one kilometre to go I started really trying to kick it, and to my surprise there was some kick to be had.

All up my average pace was 5.35, so 20 seconds off but, given the winds it could have been worse. More importantly, my form was right up there. When I run slow I run lazy. When I run fast I push off more with each step and therefore my glutes actually fire. I actually lift my legs. I run more upright. The one thing I noticed tonight that I haven't noticed before was that I was running much more mid-foot than usual, even verging on running on my toes. It was helping me run fast though, so I wasn't going to analyse it too deeply.

The rest of the week is going to be a mad balance between trying to fit the workouts in and socialising. We're off North on Thursday for a civil union and if I thought running in Wellington heat was bad, running 110 minutes in a hilly area near Tutukaka is going to be torturous. Let alone the fact that I have to fit in a 2-3 hour bike ride and 20 minute run the day before! At least I will be able to catch up on some of that swimming I've been missing I guess.

I wonder how badly my legs are going to protest tomorrow morning in RPM? It will be fun finding out.

Note: Body Balance is one of the Les Mills stable of classes. It is a mix of Tai Chi, Yoga and Pilates. The warm-up track is based on Tai Chi, followed by a sun salutation track, a strength track (warrior poses etc), a balance track, a hip stretching track, core (pilates), back, twists, hamstring stretches and a relaxation track or two. It's yoga light really as the poses aren't held for long, but it's free and it's fun and it does help prevent my runner hips from seizing up all together!

Two of My Favourite Things

Running in Wellington and the Phoenix Foundation.

A Post for Calyx

A unicorn picture, to help you get over the trauma of the blister pic!

An abbreviated day of exercise today. I did my usual spin class before work but got stuck in a meeting so missed Balance. I would have swum but for the reluctance to risk getting pool germs in the still-healing wounds in my mouth.

Tomorrow calls for lower body weights and a forty minute hill run. Clare's taking a Balance class at 6.30 so I'll run then join in. Mmmm .... post-run Balance classes are the best!

Day One of Marathon Training

One for Steve. A blister to celebrate day one of marathon training. Can you tell how excited I am? Like, embarking on a major voyage excited? It turns out the enforced rest was a good thing as it gave me a physical and psychological break between BAU training and the commencement of my new mission. My interest is peaked. The idea of running a marathon in three short months (threeeeeee mmoooooonnnttthhhhs) terrifies me just enough that it has me enthralled and once again obsessed. Bring it on. Bring it on.

So, Dave's programme had me down for an upper body weights session today and a 5km fast run. No problems. I had already done the upper body session before I got his email, and the 5km run wasn't a huge deviation from what I'd already planned. Left to my own devices I probably would have run for around forty minutes. I may have included a hill or two. 5km fast though? Crazy talk! It's been so long since I allowed the word 'speed' to enter my vocabulary in relation to running that I wasn't even quite sure that I still knew how to run fast. And run fast after nearly a week of rest with a still slightly dodgy sacroilleac and a mouth full of stitches? Excuse me? Still, a short 5km and then a bus trip home to another glass of that award winning Guthrey family riesling? Now that was appealing.

Even so I was second guessing myself all the way out of the door of the gym. My deal with myself was to warm up by running down to the Meridian building and then to just start running and see how I felt. Right - that old 'see how you feel' copout thing again. I must be going soft! Please don't tell me I'm turning soft! Ok, the softness might have something to do with cider and fish and chips and Whittakers Dark Ghana chocolate and, damn it, the chocolate mud cake our PA brought in for morning tea (and I allowed myself a whole piece too, then sat at my desk feeling sick). Physical softness, now there's an explanation for that, if not an excuse. Mental softness? Someone set the mad dog loose on that girl.

So what did I do? I got to the Meridian building, paused for a moment, and then ran. And what do you know? I ran fast. Just once, for a change, I ran so that my breath rasped from my lungs. My chest heaved. Pedestrians turned to see what was lurching up behind them in such a morbid state. I felt the burn. I wanted to stop. I didn't want to stop, damn it. I tried to slow, but each time I even entertained the idea the mad dog nipping at my heels forced me to speed up instead. I ran. I ran fast.

I had forgotten how wonderful the pain of a speed session can be. I had forgotten how the burn can make you want to vomit, and yet how exquisite that state of nausea can seem. I had gotten lazy with my runs, indulgent in my little aims of running forty minutes, an hour, up the odd hill when I felt like it. This was real training. This hurt. Training is supposed to hurt. This is not supposed to be easy.

Unfortunately I didn't have my Garmin with me. It was forgotten, left in my bedside drawer. I couldn't time myself and I had to estimate the 5km distance, based on what I knew of the Loaded Hog runs and the waterfront distance markers. All the same, I knew what my perceived rate of exertion translated to.

Kate, Sarah, you were right. I am totally capable of a sub-25 minute 5km.

When I got to the gym I was a sweaty, happy mess. I dripped sweat all over Dave as I thanked him for his programme. Then I headed to the stretching area. I was training. This was serious. Training includes preventative stretching. Training means doing what I need to do to not get injured. I stretched, extensively, and then I went home and drank riesling. And then I wrote this blog.

Readers, don't run, drink and blog. You may end up posting something as overly dramatic and emotional as this. Be warned, and be afraid!

I Have a Marathon Training Programme

And I'm a teensy bit excited. Dave finally came through for me!

The next few months are going to be insane though. I'm going to be building up the mileage pretty quickly unfortunately. Not ideal, but there you go. Hopefully fitting in a few rides will give me enough crosstraining to prevent me from destroying myself.

More details later as I'm blogging this from work. Naughty, but I just had to let out a virtual Woohoot!!

Feeling Twitchy

It's Sunday evening and I haven't exercised at all since Tuesday. I was tempted by a Gearshifters ride yesterday afternoon but the swelling from my wisdom tooth surgery on Wednesday was still causing me some pain and the stitches were bugging me, so I reluctantly flagged it away. Instead I went on a long walk around the Southern Coast (pictures to come), but it wasn't enough and by last night I was truly bouncing off the walls of our living room. My body seemed to decide to channel the excess energy it was dealing with through my brain. Suddenly everything was bright and shiny and interesting. I found myself feverishly researching beds online (our current bed is well past its use-by date). Celebrating my gradual return to eating real foods I drank a bottle of Scrumpy Cider and ended up completely toasted. Hamish and I watched an English programme that followed a couple as they hunted for a property that they could turn into an eco-lodge and I commented with fascination on every little plot twist. The situation started to get more than a little out of control.

Anyway, I thought it might be useful to post the Taranaki Cycle Challenge course profile. You'll probably need to click on it to view it properly. It's obvious that the elevation gains aren't huge, but that 30km or so of gradual climb inland from Opunake is a killer.

Lavender farm, Stratford, Taranaki

I'm reasonably happy with the progress I'm making post-surgery, despite the excess of energy. I've been taking my painkillers and antibiotics and doing the mouth wash thing. On Thursday I felt a bit achy but the main pain came from my scratched up throat, which made it difficult to swallow. I took it easy and took an extra 5mg of Hydrocortisone mid-afternoon when I started to feel a bit heavy and lethargic. I was taking Panadeine every four hours and each time I took it I would start to dose off, which I found odd because Panadeine shouldn't make me drowsy!

On Friday I started to eat a little normal (if soft) food again, after restricting myself on Thursday to chocolate milk, yoghurt and soup. My weight started to go back up to normal again after losing over a kilo following surgery. As mentioned above I stayed away from the alcohol till Saturday and, as tempting as it was to ride in the gorgeous summer weather, I figured I'd end up in too much pain if I tried.

By this morning I was almost able to talk normally again and my smile was almost back to normal. At least, I was able to mimic a real smile without looking like I was grimacing. Hamish and I set off to run a few errands - preparing for friends' commitment ceremony in a couple of weeks and bed shopping. Our current bed is ridiculous. It's around thirteen years old and falling apart. Hamish keeps getting a sore back from sleeping on it and when it gets bad he starts tossing and turning, at which point I start getting thrown around next to him. Add to that three cats fighting for space and you end up with a lot of disturbed sleep.

We stopped by Wellington Beds today to see what was available, knowing that we wanted a king-sized bed, and that motion-control was important to the both of us! To our surprise we ended up agreeing on a flexi-slat bed with a medium-firm mattress. We even liked the same headboard. Both of us agree that a tailboard would annoy us. Neither of us was keen on a base and mattress combo, due to the lack of under-bed space and the need to mess around with a valance. In any case, one of the cats would be sure to use one corner as a scratching post.

Old Taranaki farmhouse, Stratford (Mt Taranaki in background)

After another day of no exercise I'm more than ready to try a run tomorrow. I've decided to try to shave my 5km. I've never run anything shorter than a 7km race before so I have no idea what kind of time I am capable of but I'd like to think I can manage the distance in around 25 minutes. This week I'm going to do one of the 5km series of runs that take place each Tuesday night on the waterfront. Unfortunately they will clash with the Gearshifters evening RPM classes, but I'll keep working on my speed and do a few more of the 5km runs once the Grape Ride is over.

I'm feeling quite excited about switching back to a running focus now that the Rotorua Marathon is on the horizon.

Jet Trails over Mt Taranaki, Stratford

Tentative plan for this week:

Monday - Upper body weights, flat run
Tuesday - RPM, Body Balance, 5km run
Wednesday - Lower body weights, hill run
Thursday - Swim, Ride
Friday - Waitangi Day holiday. Sea swim then dancing at One Love!
Saturday - Long ride
Sunday - Long run

Enforced Rest

Never let it be said that I'm lazy. Knowing that I was due to have my wisdom teeth out today and will have to rest for a few days I packed the workouts in on the two days available to me.

On Monday I put myself through a full-body circuit workout that felt hard, hard, hard. The sweat was streaming off me and the shoulder work felt much more intense than usual. Towards the end of the workout I took a look at the 8kg barbell I usually use for those particular exercises. I found myself looking at a 9kg barbell. That would explain a few things! I'm normally pretty good at catching when someone has put a weight back in the wrong place. Not that day apparently. Still, I would never have attempted the squat/lift/stepback move with a heavier weight otherwise, so I was well pleased.

After work I went out on another hot Wellington evening and ran 7km. Just lately it seems that all the runs I expect to be bad turn out to be blindingly good. In this case, with Taranaki and circuit-session fatigued legs, I had a blast. Hello quad and glute muscles, nice to see you taking part in our runs again! I kept the run flat, but I couldn't keep it slow.

I sorta lived to regret the two workouts on Tuesday morning during Dee's RPM class. It didn't help that she chose a series of very difficult tracks. Blast the Speakers for a track 2 anyone? Turn It Up for track 5 and Night Train for track 7. It wasn't until track 5 that I managed to shake my legs into a state of awakeness and actually cox them into a bit of speed and some dial.

By the time I got to Body Balance at mid-day my hamstrings and glutes were telling me all about the sets of leg press and all the squats of the day before. As I mentioned in an email to Sarah, I was hobbling like a hobbled penguin. It was, however, an unexpectedly lovely class. I arrived early and got to lie on my mat for a while listening to the music and the sound of rain falling outside the open window for the first time in ages. I was feeling great until the class (and the hurting) started. My back was still locked up from Saturday, my quads just weren't going to do any more, and my hamstrings badly needed at least three repeats of the hamstring track.

All that pain seemed minor however in the knowledge that I was finally losing four redundant teeth today. I was feeling ok about the operation, despite reading about the side effects, until I started reading a few studies questioning the value of having wisdom teeth removed when there were no obvious problems with them. Sometimes Google is not my friend!

For some reason I had a brilliant night's sleep last night, although that might have had something to do with the disrupted sleep of Monday night. Hamish decided to lock the cat door exit to try to catch a cat that has been coming into our bedroom at night and stealing our cats' food. As a result we were waking up constantly to let our own cats out as they scrablled at the door. By 1.30 Hamish decided to give up and opened the door again, only to have Tissy bring a live mouse in a few minutes later. She chased it around the hallway then brought it into our bedroom. At 2.30 I managed to catch it and throw it out the back door then it was back to bed to beg for some sleep, given that I had to be up in three hours' time. Yep, that might have had something to do with the good night's sleep last night!

The surgery was taking place at the Southern Cross Hospital in Newtown, and everyone was absolutely brilliant. I had two wonderful nurses and a very comfortable private room to myself. I got a special red band on my wrist as an alert to remind the anaesthesiologist that he needed to give me cortisol via drip, and he visited me before the surgery to reassure me. Given the horror stories I've read about the ignorance of some American specialists I was a bit anxious to make sure the correct procedures were followed!

On our way down to theatre the nurses covered me in a HEATED BLANKET. Heated blankets are the bomb! Once I was on the operating table I got a very lovely sedative and then that was it - I was out without even realising it. I had some interesting and pleasant dreams under the anaesthetic (unfortunately I can't remember the exact details) and then woke feeling very warm and cozy. That feeling lasted a few short moments before I registered the pain in my mouth, and then the post-anaesthesia shakes started up. The nurses got me a second heated blanket and wrapped another one right around my head. Bliss! As always once I was awake I was really awake, so I lay there blinking at the Filipino nurses from my cocoon until it was time to go back to my room.

It was about that time that I worked out that I could open and close both eyes simultaneously, but I couldn't blink my right eye. This was, in the context of potential facial nerve damage, a little disconcerting. One of the nurses phoned my surgeon, who was already pulling someone else's teeth, and he was quick to assure me that this was just a normal side effect of the local they'd given me. I wasn't quite sure I believed him but I was prepared to wait and see. Certainly all my pain was on my left side of my face. My right side was completely numb.

Back at the room I lay around watching television until Hamish arrived. An hour or so after the surgery my ability to blink suddenly reasserted itself, which was a great relief. Once I'd shown I could move around on my own, drink some water and eat some icecream I was allowed to leave. I spent all afternoon moving from the sofa to the study and, with the exception of one small nap, have felt disconcertingly full of energy. I suspect I'm on a cortisol high. At the anaesethesiologist's recommendation I doubled my 1.00pm dose of Hydrocortisone, though I only took my usual 5km tonight.

I have a major case of chipmunk cheek on the right side of my face and the left is catching up. The surgeon did say that the right lower tooth was the most difficult to remove, and that's where the swelling is. My left side of my mouth hurt pretty much from the moment I woke up, and the Tramidol and Panadeine have only really taken the edge off. Still, it's a steady ache that I can deal with. My right side of my face has slowly regained sensation and is now also sore, but not as sore as the left. Twelve hours after surgery I have a slight numbness where my cheek is all swollen, so I suspect that will eventually come right.

When I got home from the hospital I drank a glass of chocolate milk, which I don't normally allow myself, and it was fantastic. I ate some yoghurt a little later in the afternoon and for dinner I had soup. Unfortunately I was silly enough to eat a corn chowder for dinner and then got a bit freaked out about all the bits of corn I could imagine catching in my back teeth or getting messed up in the wounds.

The string from one of my stitches is bugging me a bit, but I can open and close my mouth ok and am generally happy. I expected my dodgy jaw to completely seize up but so far so good. I haven't even really had any bleeding.

I'm a heap better than I thought I'd be and I'm very relieved. Now I just have to get through to Tuesday for my follow-up appointment. One of the nice parts of the day was the nurses commenting on my wonderful tan and, when they put the monitor on me, on my low heart rate. Thankfully my blood pressure registered as reasonably normal. Given the stress I was feeling at the time I expected it to be sky high. It was certainly at the high end of normal, but that's where it tends to run anyway thanks to the Fludrocortisone and a family history of high blood pressure.

I'm just not quite sure how I'm going to survive the next couple of days at home without going stircrazy. You guys better all get blogging because I'm going to need the reading material!

Pip Rides Round the Mountain

Well, I made it round the Yarrows Cycle Challenge today - riding over 150km round Taranaki. Just a quick post now as I'm off to New Plymouth soon for prize giving. In summary though, it was hot and it hurt. I made it round in under six hours, which was what I wanted, but I should have been a lot faster than I was. I knew right away that I wasn't quite right. My legs were missing something. I forced myself to eat and drink constantly to keep myself going. The climb from Opunake through to Kaponga was particularly nasty and I lost time here as I slowed right down. Stopping at Kaponga helped and I should have done so earlier. I got a bit of a surge after that and found someone to ride with. Mike from Lower Hutt and I rode the rest of the way together and I think he saved me (though he reckons I saved him).

It was hot, there was very little wind, and despite drinking a truckload I'm dehydrated and I'm sunburned as well. It was a gorgeous day and I did enjoy most of it. It definitely felt harder than Taupo and that seems to be a common opinion. At least with Taupo you get some nice downhills. Around Taranaki you seem to be constantly on a gradual climb!

First event of 2009 done and dusted. Next up the Grape Ride.

Happiness is a good ride (or run)

If you ask me why I do this I will describe for you the way I feel right now, the way it feels to be sitting here on the sofa after a fabulous ride. I will tell you about the slight burn in my quads, the endorphins still floating around my bloodstream, the quiet sense of satisfaction and the calm that accompanies it. I will tell you about the beautiful things I have seen and the people I have spent the morning riding with. I will tell you how GOOD this feels.

All that and I nearly didn't ride today. I got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and my left glute seized up. I found myself limping painfully back to bed. At 6.45 this morning it was still all cramped. I could barely walk down the hallway and figured I was going to have to pull the plug. However stubborness kicked in and after a little more walking around whatever muscle was in spasm decided to let go. I could walk again and it didn't give me any more trouble. Strange.

A small group of Gearshifters riders assembled at Freyberg on what was an encouragingly still and sunny morning. We set a good pace all the way out to Petone, then headed north towards Silverstream. The lack of any real wind (a slight Northerly, but nothing worth worrying about) meant that we sat on around 5kmph more than we did a couple of weeks ago when we rode this way. Familiarity bred reassurance and, knowing how far I had to go, I felt comfortable with the pace we were riding and that I wasn't about to burn out any time soon.

The skies started to darken as we approached Upper Hutt and it looked like we might be in for a bit of a drenching. We stopped briefly at the Caltex on SH2 and then it was onto the Akatarawa Rd. Dee and some of the others were planning to ride to the top. I was going to ride to Staglands then see how I felt. We got spat on a little but the threatening rain held off. I took the undulating road at a faster pace than last time and it seemed a lot easier. After a couple of kilometres I saw one of the other Gearshifters women, Angela, up ahead of me and that gave me enough momentum to push a little harder and pass her. She sat behind me the rest of the way out to Staglands. She's normally a stronger rider than me but hasn't been on her bike much since Taupo so was feeling the hills a bit.

At Staglands we stopped for a bit then Angela decided to push on to see if she could find the others. It started to rain a little and I was getting a little cold. I was about to start heading back when she returned with Dee and one of the other guys, Stu. Rob and his friend had gone right to the top but the rest had stopped about a kilometre further down the road, at the base of the real hill.

While I was waiting I tried a chocolate gel I got free with my Powerbars. At first taste I thought "mmm, like melted chocolate", but after that the novelty wore off. It was extremely thick and I couldn't finish the whole gel. I think I might have felt sick if I had. I stuck to my Powerbars the rest of the way back to the city. I guess if I can't enjoy a chocolate gel then I'm just not a gel kind of girl.

We rocketed back to the main road and when we got there I decided to take some more Hydrocortisone. That did the trick, just as it did when we rode Paekakariki Hill Rd. I could truly feel my stamina increasing, and it wasn't just the effect of the gel, Powerbars and gummy lollies. I felt really strong. I kept up easily the whole way back down State Highway 2 and then to Freyberg. I kept up even though the wind had now swung south, meaning that we once again had a headwind (the cruelty that is Wellington weather). I even made it back to the pool before anyone else.

It turns out that today's ride was nearly 118km, which means it was my second longest ride ever (the longest ride other than Taupo being 115km). I don't feel the slightest bit tired, other than a slight burn in my quads. I'm really looking forward to riding Taranaki on Saturday.

I had another of those moments on the way out this morning. I saw myself holding my own with the others and not being afraid of being dropped or making a fool of myself. I realised how far I've come with my riding in the last year and I was pretty darn pleased with myself. I wonder what I will achieve over the next twelve months?

Feeling the Fear and Riding Anyway

I was a very small, anxious child. When I was around six years old my teacher wrote on my school report that I should stop worrying so much. I remember being scared of pretty much everything. The school maypole made me quiver and I could never scale the rope climbing frame in the playground. Easy bush walks in the nearby bush made me quake, especially if there was a drop off to one side of the track. I remember in particular a walk to a waterfall that included a two metre wide rockface that required scaling and which terrified me every time.

Silly things scared me. The motor of the machine that produced oxygen for the classroom fishtank used to vibrate slightly, and I remember one of the boys in my class scaring me by claiming that it could give me an electric shock. You can imagine how terrified I was of actual electric fences, which were common in the rural area where I grew up. I was scared of the leaches I was told lived in the local stream. I was even more scared that an eel might bite me if I walked through the water.

My father used to like to fish off rocks at the local beaches. My parents still laugh that, if they wanted to go home, all they had to do was tell me that the tide was coming in. For some reason I had a terror of being trapped by the incoming tide. Even today I still have vague issues with that one. As a young child I developed a fear of going underwater, which led to me tell the teacher that I had left my togs at home. I never learned to swim and it was only a year or so ago that I actually managed to put even my face in the water, let alone put my whole head. From that perspective it's amazing that I can now swim at all, even the few yards that I can currently manage without flippers or a wetsuit.

In my teens, for some unknown reason, I developed a fear of not getting enough sleep. I am still very reliant on having access to an environment conducive to easy slumber. Your average campsite next to a dance party, particularly one where the kids in the campervan nextdoor are playing Gatecrasher at full volume 24/7 is the kind of environment guaranteed to produce more than a little anxiety for me. And yet for years I worked as a volunteer at dance parties in Golden Bay.

I still have a fear of getting stuck in situations in which I can not get out of, and dance party campsites are a real trigger for that one. Being hemmed in by other vehicles will always stress me out. A few years ago we got rained out while camping next to a river setting up a party. Our little car couldn't get back up the hill and I ended up howling out the fear in my tent while a torrential downpour pounded against the tent fly. Did I mention I grew up on a flood plain, where regular flooding was a part of life?

If there is another pattern here it is that at some point I obviously made a decision not to give in to my fear. At some point I started deliberately putting myself in situations that scared me. It started in my mid-teens in a fairly obvious and typical manner. For a year or two my friends and I become theme park junkies. I sought out roller coasters. I even did a static line parachute jump. I left home and lived in Holland on student exchange for a year.

I no longer have panic attacks and I don't currently suffer from depression, although I did intermittently throughout my twenties. When I first read the definition of a generalised anxiety disorder I recognised myself in it. These days although I still live with an underlying disquiet, particularly when I get stressed, it doesn't really affect me too badly. I think I'm a fairly happy person, and perhaps my nervous tendencies do lead me to challenge myself more. Exercising definitely helps keep things under control.

Ironically, I really only started down the running and cycling path because it scared me. I took up the challenge to do a duathlon because the very idea was terrifying. And when I'd done that, the next most terrifying thing was a 10km race. And then it was time to run a half marathon. So now I'm training for a marathon and planning to do a half Ironman at the end of the year. I think it would have been much simpler not to be so afraid of everything, and then I could have gotten away with doing nothing!

Cycling is definitely still more of a courage thing for me than running. Running involves putting on a pair of trainers and telling my mind to shut up while I struggle up another hill. Cycling involves the fear of, well, death. Particularly times like today when my 8kg bike and my 56kgish self are out there battling 40kmph winds (gusting up to 60kmph). Actually, I think the winds worsened as we rode, so I hate to think what they were in actuality!

So today I'm proud of myself for even setting foot out the door, and for not getting straight back into the car when I got to Freyberg and saw that it was just as windy there as it was up at Mornington. I was gagging for a ride, and I was completely not thrilled by the idea of ninety minutes or so on a trainer. I was NOT going to let a piffling Northerly stop me!

We did the best we could to avoid the wind, but there's little you can really do. At some point the wind is going to be either in front of you or blowing across from your side. We rode up Brooklyn hill (flying, thanks to a lovely tailwind) and halfway up I totally managed to pass poor Stu, who was on a borrowed bike with far bigger gears than he was used to.

Down through Happy Valley to the Southern Coast and, although I was second-to-last, I managed to pull a record speed. Head down, hands on the drops and not once touching the brakes, I just went for it.

We hit the first headwind around Island Bay but it was at Lyall that things really got interesting. At that point I very nearly cut through Kilbirnie back to my car but then I realised something. I was still terrified by the wind, but I was more excited by the challenge of staying upright than I was scared. I was riding on an adrenalin rush and I was kicking it.

Today's ride was a victory for that very reason. I felt the fear and fed off it rather than giving in. I sat with the pack the whole way around the coast until we turned in and rode through the Seatoun tunnel. The headwind riding back through Miramar was ferocious and, in a moment of stupidity, I nearly got myself run over just past the cutting as I moved right to ride onto the cycle path. And then we were on Cobham Drive, with its inevitable crosswind.

That crosswind was, indeed, insane. However I knew it was coming and it was fairly steady, not gusty, which meant I could lean sideways and compensate for it. I was squealing like a girly girl for about half the distance, but I was squealing partly from the fun of it. It was the type of squeal I might once have let out as the roller coaster I was riding went into a corkscrew. The chance of death or injury was slightly higher on the bike, but I was older and braver to compensate.

At Kilbirnie we rode up to the top of Coromandel Street and it was there that I finally decided I'd had enough. Some of the Shifters turned up Alexandra Rd but I knew that the wind coming down the other side of Mt Vic would be awful. There were three other riders who wanted to skip the hill, so we rode together through Newtown and back down Cambridge into town.

So there it was. A completely terrifying but even more fun ride. I took my fear and enjoyed it. As Frayed Laces would say, today I refused to let myself deny my awesomeness. DDYA!! There was a little bit of WWCWD going on as well!

As a footnote, the running continues to go well. Yesterday, thinking I was going to be riding 100km today (something the poor weather put paid to), I set out from home for a short run. I ended up doing five very hilly, windy and extremely fun kilometres. I was feeling very lethargic and tired beforehand but, again, once I actually started running the magic happened and I found myself flying along easily, my heartrate and perceived effort both low. I danced back up Mornington Rd and was feeling quite smug until I realised that I was being benefited by a killer tailwind (which had not that long ago been a killer headwind as I ran along the ridgeline towards Brooklyn). I sprinted the last 500 metres or so. I definitely have my running mojo back!

Running Good Times

Another day, another holiday. Summer brought another sunny day with that familiar gusty Northerly. I threw a few things in a backpack and headed south on foot. I walked to the end of Kingston then dropped onto the City to Sea walkway, emerging a few kilometres later on the Southern Coast. From there I headed east towards Island Bay, and when I got to the beach I stopped.

I read a magazine and I listened to the radio and when I was tired of both and the Northerly kept blowing sand in my face I just sat there and looked.

And there was nothing happening. I spent an hour or so sitting and looking, but there was nothing to watch. When I was walking I had seen a loaded fishing boat returning to shore with a flock of seabirds following it. I had seen ferries coming and going. But in Island Bay no one walked past. The occasional car heading towards Lyall Bay was the only visible evidence of life. So, in the absence of a pressing need to do anything else, I just looked.

And when I got tired of that I walked to the Island Bay shops where I stopped in at the butcher's to buy some of his wonderful sausages. I then crossed the road to the supermarket and bought a few more things for dinner. When I'd finished I jumped on a bus to Berhampore then walked under the hot sun, with my two shopping bags, up long, steep Farnham Street to home. I made a chicken sandwich, drank a cider, and rested for a while.

When it was time I caught a bus back into town for my appointment with my dental hygenist. With clean teeth and dire threats about flossing I left and wandered down the road to the gym. After all of that I got changed, and I ran.

And it was good.

I have no idea why my run was so fantastic. I was on day seven of a running and cycling streak. My legs were much better than they'd been on Tuesday (when I could barely walk), but they weren't completely fresh. I'd walked a lot already today. It was hot and I was a little tired.

All my runs have been hilly lately so I decided I'd try for seven flat kilometres and set out towards Oriental Bay. From the first stride I knew everything was going to click. I felt strong and I quickly slipped into the zone that I've been searching for. I could have kept running forever. Another runner commented that it was a gorgeous evening as he passed and I could only agree. I wasn't sweating that much given the heat, my heartrate stayed remarkably low and I wasn't feeling any pain. I held a good pace without any real effort.

I ran on and on and didn't really want to stop but elected to rein myself in. On the return even the headwind couldn't pop my little bubble of running joy. Seven kilometres turned into over ten. Oh sure, I still spent the return half of the run checking out all the cyclists as they came towards me, but for once I was happy to be in running shoes, not cycling shoes.

The signs were there I guess. The last couple of runs hinted at a slight but steady return to form. My resting heartrate has been sitting around 52, which is the lowest it's ever been. I'm recovering well from each workout and I have plenty of energy. On the bus after the run I was wishing that I hadn't been so sensible and that I'd kept going.

Today's success has made it a lot easier to plan my weekend. I'm going to run for ninety minutes on Saturday then ride over the Akatarawas to Waikanae with Dee and co on Sunday, then on Monday we'll do a recovery ride to Eastborne. Tuesday morning I'll do Dee's RPM and then it will be off to Stratford for Mum's next round of treatment and the Taranaki Cycle Challenge.

And then it'll be time to get serious about the Rotorua Marathon.

Question of the Day

Today's question is how can I get stronger on my bike? I'm stumped to know whether it's a power thing, an efficiency/technique thing, a power to weight ratio thing or whether I'm perhaps just lazy and ease off when the pain starts. I rode with several of the (fast) Gearshifters again tonight and, although I kept up with them most of the way around, I got dropped on the hills. What is up with that??? I don't want to beat everyone, I just want to be able to keep up.

Sigh. Frustrated.

It wasn't that big a ride either. We went around the Bays and up to Brooklyn then some of the pack decided to ride on up to the Turbine and the rest of us rode back through town. So it was short, but for me it was fairly fast. I guess I should also remember that this is day six of a week of stepped-up cardio.

Other than that I had a lovely day. I had lunch with a friend (hi Fi) who has just returned from London. She's interested in buying a road bike so I took her into Pennys. We wandered around and had a look at a few bikes and it turned out that the bike that seemed to best suit her needs was - Cleo. I said it would just be too weird for us to be riding the same bike so Dave offered to put some (truly hideous) pink bar tape on hers. He also showed me a gorgeous new full carbon Scott in my size. Only $9,000 (cough, splutter) and at 6kg, as Dave put it, scarily light. I don't think I'd ever feel brave enough to ride it in this city! We did talk about upgrading my (Tiagra) front derraileur, which I may do at some point. I really don't like the way it shifts.

I have another dilemma as well. I was planning on running tomorrow and doing some leg weights (bumping up the leg press incase my power issues are strength-based), then swim and Balance on Friday, a 100km ride on Saturday then a long run on Sunday. However Dee is riding Saturday (I'm not sure where), then on Sunday riding out to the Akatarawas and back to Wellington via Waikanae, which I really want to do. She's then planning a light ride on Monday. I want to ride with the Squad as much as possible but am also conscious that I need to start thinking about preparing for the Rotorua Marathon. I really want to do the ride on Sunday, but it will be quite long. So do I do my long run tomorrow and a shorter, easy run on Saturday so as to not completely smash my legs? Or do I just suck it up and do my long run on Saturday anyway and suffer trying to keep up on Sunday?

I need to get in touch with Dave and find out where that programme is. Perhaps I should just give him a call!

Beautiful Things

A few beautiful things:

Renewing my driver's licence turns out to be a very enjoyable experience thanks to the lovely young African immigrant customer service employee at the AA. I should really write a letter to his manager commending him.

Getting off the bus on the way home I notice that someone has been playing with chalk on the footpath. A green line extends all the way down the middle from the bus stop to the garden seat a neighbour placed halfway down the pedestrian accessway to our street. Someone has marked out a circuit workout down its length. Every ten metres or so there is a new activity, including walking, skipping, hoppping, jogging, running, acting like a dog, acting like a chicken, side stepping, and a monster walk. The last direction is simply to 'rest', with an arrow pointing to the bench with its lovely view over the mountains and the Cook Strait. I briefly consider following all of the instructions and contemplate how I might 'monster walk'.

Hamish and I open one of the 'quaffing' red wines my parents gave him for Christmas and it turns out to be a very pleasant drop. One can't ALWAYS drink the Guthrey family international award winning Pinot Noir (especially given that we probably shared the last bottle in the country with Nic and Leonie).

After a beautiful ride through rural Makara I have a case of post-ride insomnia. Hamish and I stand on the veranda as a full moon rises over the mountains. Below us Berhampore and Newtown are lit up like a Christmas tree. I sleep with the bedroom curtains open and the moonlight on my face.

After showering post-6.30 a.m. RPM and eating a breakfast of Bircher muesli with yoghurt my stomach continues to demand food and I placate it with fruit. Realising that I'm going to fall asleep on the sofa I briefly debate what of the activities on my holiday list I should indulge in today. The weather seems a bit cool, overcast and windy so I decide to walk to Brooklyn to watch The Curious Case of Benjamin Button at the Penthouse Theatre. There are only four of us attending the session and I have a whole row and a big comfy seat to myself. I start crying about halfway through and keep crying for the rest of the film.

Walking back home from the theatre I pass the young Chinese family who have taken over the local dairy. The mother already waves to me every time I run or cycle past her. Today the father is playing outside with his two young sons. The grandparents are strolling leisurely down the footpath. Back at home I am starving again so heat up some delicious leftovers from the freezer, followed by more fruit.

I clean the fridge (another item on my to-do list) and wipe down all the kitchen surfaces then clean the bathroom. Afterwards I reward myself with a little more of that quaffing wine and a sweet, juicy peach. I then call a friend who has returned to New Zealand from London after having been away for several years. We arrange to meet for lunch tomorrow at Parade in Oriental Bay. At the same time I am exchanging txts to organise another evening ride. I'm a little worried about the state of my legs.

I enter both the Taranaki Cycle Challenge and the Grape Ride.

Two things that have become very clear to me:

If you smile people will smile back. If you are friendly people will be friendly back.

Left to my own devices I will quite happily sit here on the sofa all day (once the day's exercise is out of the way). However I am self-aware enough to know that I will feel bad about wasting my 'time off'. I operate better when I have a schedule and have decided to plan the rest of my holiday to ensure I get some of my planned activities in. However some things are going to get left by the wayside. I doubt, for example, that I will get around to painting over the feature wall in our lounge. However Hamish and I have made real progress in getting the vegetable garden organised, so I'm not too upset.

Tomorrow's forecast is for more sun and less wind so I have plans to make my way slowly to Oriental Bay where I will sit on the beach until it's time for lunch. I need to rest before tomorrow evening's big ride!

Beautiful, beautiful ride

Hannah at the top of Makara Hill

I rode the Makara loop tonight with Julia and Hannah. It was a beautiful, beautiful Wellington evening. The low sun turned the fields of Ohariu Valley a soft shade of gold and the hills rippled with shadow and light like a McCahon painting.

Waiting at the top of Makara Hill

We had a headwind climbing out again but nothing like the gales I rode through last time with the Gearshifters. I spent the entire ride smiling and wondering at the scenary. My only issue was a lack of food which caused me to blow up ever so slightly as we cycled towards Johnsonville. I was too happy to really let it get to me though.

I love Wellington and I love cycling in Wellington. Evenings like this make the scary rides through high winds totally worth it. The payoff on a good day is immense.

I guess that right now I'm still more of a cyclist than a runner. Let's hope for an equally beautiful evening on Wednesday so that I can even the score.

If this keeps up

I might actually start to enjoy my runs again!

I just ran 11.5km from home down to the Southern Coast and back up via Happy Valley. I managed to average around six minute kilometres, which wasn't bad given that around seven kilometres of the run was uphill. On the flat I was managing around 5.40 without too much effort.

The thing that made me think I still don't quite have the running mojo back though? I kept myself occupied on the long, slow trudge back up to home by thinking about .... cycling.

Sigh.

A Lazy Morning in Mornington

Still too horrid out there to ride, unless I want to be blown all the way to Palmerston North. I'm trying to summon up the motivation to go for a run.


I forgot to point out the implications of starting our ride half an hour late yesterday. If we'd left on time we would have been well into the Makara loop when the storm hit. We would have been stuck in a rural valley with no shelter and no way out other than to keep riding. There would likely as not have been no cell phone coverage and hence no rescue. We would have had to keep going through solid rain and cold gales for another hour or so.

I'm normally one for punctuality, but I'm quite glad for people sleeping in yesterday!

A fun if somewhat abbreviated ride!

Julia, Hannah and I met at Freyberg this morning for another ride. The forecast was for a Southern change and drizzle turning to rain but at 8.30 it was still only overcast and humid with that reliably gusty Northerly.

Both Hannah and Julia ended up running nearly half an hour late so I hung around the car and chatted to Dave Creamer, who suggested that I join a group of triathletes who were also heading off to do Makara. I looked at these lanky, athletic guys with their gorgeous Cervelo and Scott tri bikes and politely declined!

Eventually the three of us were underway, riding into a Northerly that was just strong enough to keep things interesting. We kept an easy pace and also kept up a steady stream of conversation the whole way around the Bays. Hannah led at first and I took over the lead around Scorching Bay. I sat behind another cyclist for a while then picked him off on the Pass of Branda, losing both Julia and Hannah in the process. We regrouped and picked up Darren, a friend of Julia's.

I dropped Julia and Hannah again on the way up Happy Valley then Darren came up alongside me and we rode two abreast for a while before the road narowed and I dropped in behind him. So he obviously didn't pull me the whole way up but with company to keep me honest I certainly got up there at a faster pace than usual.

Darren turned off at the Caltex to head home and we women regrouped again at Brooklyn. We were less than completely committed to Makara but I wanted to do some hills so we agreed we'd ride to Karori Park, meet up again and then decide.

I was surprised by how easy the climb up to the top of Aro Valley felt and thoroughly enjoyed myself the whole way. I had to wait for several minutes at the top for the others and by the time they got there I was totally fired up and keen to keep going around Makara. Wellington, however, had other ideas.

Setting off again I remarked that the weather appeared to be turning. It had suddenly gone vey still. A few seconds later it was spitting with rain. The decision not to continue on to Makara was instant and unanimous! Calling over my shoulder to the others I proposed turning left and heading down Glemore and Tinakori Rds and back to the city via Thorndon Quay.

From that point it was a fast sprint back down the hill, during which time I apparently hit over 50kmph. We rode back along the waterfront as quickly as traffic would allow. When we got back to Freyberg we'd only done just over 40km and the weather, while looking forboding, was holding. Looking South the clouds were bruised and gathering in a manner reminiscent of the scene in the Ghostbusters movie when the portal opened over the city. We figured, however, that we probably had enough time to get out to the naval base and back before it hit.

Whereas Oriental Bay had been choppy when we left it was now completely still, a good indicator that the wind had gone South. This was confirmed as we rounded Pt Jerningham and into a building wind. The air was thick with the approaching storm, the harbour was looking extremely dramatic, and I found myself feeling quite exhilerated. In the end we made it not quite as far as Greta Point before it finally started pelting down. Julia was in the lead and, behind her, I told her she could feel free to turn around any time she wanted. We did a u-turn and then opened up the throttle to sprint with a tailwind behind us back to Freyberg. The rain was driving against our backs the whole way. Crazy fun!

All up we did only 50km, but we all felt fresh and could easily have kept going. I really enjoyed myself! We're going to try again on Monday, so touch wood this weather will blow through in time.

Cleo Needs a Sister

See, isn't she sexy? How could I not fall in love?

I have been seriously neglecting this blog

And all you lovely people who read and care about what I'm up to. I haven't been terribly good at commenting on your blogs either and when I'm feeling pressured I do tend to disappear into myself. I appreciate you all very much and hope that I can be there for you as the year goes on. I'm looking forward to meeting up with more of you for training runs/rides/swims and at various events around the country. Don't let me get away with anything!

It's not exactly a secret that I'm struggling to find my running mojo at the moment. Poor Kate had to put up with me apologising every few metres when we finally met up for a run on Monday. In retrospect, running Kelburn after two RPM on Saturday and 100km on Cleo on Sunday (a stunning ride out to the Akatarawas on a beautiful Wellington morning) was perhaps not the smartest idea. I do also tend to freak out when I run with someone for the first time, which inevitably leads to cramp. Thankfully the freakout effect usually only lasts for the first run!

I went on to do another RPM on Tuesday morning then was back in town a few hours later to do a Body Balance class. I then crashed and ended up sleeping on the sofa for at least an hour and on Wednesday felt so sluggish that it seemed like a good idea to rest. Which left me with a mission today and a set of clearly defined goals. I wanted to run the 10.6km Bays/Newtown loop and I wanted to run it without stopping. Pace didn't matter but I needed to feel I could still run!

I'm pleased to say that I achieved my objective although it was so hot out there that I did stop at Hataitai Bay for a quick drink from the tap and to splash some water over my head. The saddle over to Newtown kicked my butt but I felt good all the way back to town. My left knee and right ankle behaved themselves and I felt reasonably strong. Oh, I was slow, but not as slow as I could have been. I remember how I used to almost treat that route like a time trial, but I was running five days a week back then. I'm looking forward to having the excuse of the Rotorua Marathon to start cranking up the number of runs again. I don't really need to do anything special to train for the Grape Ride, as 101km is just a standard weekend distance for me now!

Now I just have to decide how long I want to run for on Sunday and where. I'm in need of an inspirational route, preferably a trail. It might be time to finally run some of the tracks in the Karori Sanctuary, although if it's a nice day they might be a bit crowded.

On the way back to the gym after my run I stopped in at Pennyfarthing to see Dee and the tri bike she's been raving about. I am in love. $5,400 worth of full carbon white and pink Scott sexiness (but with a 20% discount, so actually quite a bit cheaper). I wants, I wants badly, but thankfully it's a small and I suspect I'd need an XS.

Finally it was back to the gym and as I was standing in front of the mirror checking my appearance before I left the changing rooms one of the other trainers came up and gave me an amazing compliment. She told me that she remembered me from when I first started training with Duck and that she'd been meaning to tell me how great I look these days and how much she admired all the work I've put in over the last few years. Her compliment was so specific and so unexpected that I fairly floated out of the gym on a little cloud of joy and with my motivation to do a half Ironman this year well and truly restored.

It's a hard life being an emo cat

Gaffer was asleep in Ede's spot on the sofa when I left for the gym at 7.45 this morning and is still there now at 11.45. At some stage he'll wake up and start demanding cuddles or food (or both) but right now I'm enjoying the peace.

I was planning to ride today but watching the weather reporter on TV3 last night struggling to stand upright with Freyberg in the background it occurred to me that I didn't really have a death wish! Wellington is in the grip of gale Northerlies again and a wind warning was in place. So RPM it was. I booked into two-in-a-row and hauled myself out of bed and through a drizzly, blustery morning off to Extreme.

I felt good in RPM yesterday, like my bike fitness was returning, so was keen to see how I felt today and, sure enough, I had two really good classes. Things didn't start terribly well - I managed to break the bike I was riding when I stood for the first hill during Track 2. Something to do with the chain, apparently. The bike next to me was free so I quickly swapped and by the time Track 3 kicked in I was good to go.

From there on in I went into the zone - the zone that I've been struggling so hard to find during my recent rides and runs. The strength was there in my legs and the pain was meaningless and the sweat ran in rivers down my arms and from my face and I just went for it regardless. I kept thinking about the 150km ride I have coming up in a few weeks and kept reaching for the dial. I guess it says something about how much time I've spent on a spin bike over the years that I can reach down and turn it up without opening my eyes!

So now it's over and I'm stretched out on the sofa while outside the wind blows and the grey skies weigh heavily on the Orongarongas. It's a good day to be inside with a stack of books and DVDs.

I've been thinking about the things I learned in 2008. I learned a little bit more about balance and perspective. I learned not to keep training through an injury! I became a cyclist. At the start of this year riding clipless terrified me and now I can ride through the centre of town in rush hour and feel what might pass as a frisson of excitement! I became addicted to racing. I stopped stressing out about performance so much and in the process stopped having nausea problems mid-run. I learned how to eat to fuel my activities and stopped being terrified that I was going to put all that weight back on again. I actually started to see myself at the size I was and was finally able to walk into a store and not take something off the rack that was two sizes too large for me. I started thinking like an athlete and believing that I was one and that line of thought took me to the point of deciding to do the Rotorua half-Ironman this year (oh, and the Rotorua Marathon).

It was a pretty good year really and deserves its own wrap-up post. Right now however I think Hamish is in the kitchen cooking pancakes, and I'm starving!

The dirty secret at the bottom of the garden

The view from the bottom of the garden is picture-postcard and framed by Ponga and Cabbage Tree, but lurking amongst the shadows was a remarkable amount of rubbish!

The garden waste not suitable for mulching. This will all have to be carted to the top of the section and taken off to the landfill.


The huge pile of rubbish that was hiding under the weeds. A television, an old wall heater, a fan heater, downpiping, guttering, bathroom fittings, old timber, countless rubbish bags, bottles, cans, chocolate bar wrappers, empty tobacco packets, spray bottles, plastic containers, garden gloves, carpet underlay, pegs, marbles (!), a blue tile and other, random detritus.

If we'd known it was going to be this bad I don't think we would have started. Hamish keeps reminding me that one day there will be a lovely box vegetable garden growing here. It's just going to take a little bit longer than planned.

Wellington Reminding Me Why I Live Here

The view from our lounge as I type.

And it better look pretty because, as beautiful and warm and sunny as it may have been the last couple of days the Northerly has completely owned me both times I've ventured out to ride. Cleo may have lovely new fast Kevlar beaded tires, but I still suck at riding into the wind.

Now, however, as a light rain rolls in off the coast and the room fills with the smell of wet, warm concrete, I can forgive this city her transgressions. I like living here, really.

Today was a pretty good kind of Wellington day. It featured pretty much everything on my list of things to enjoy. It started with a breakfast of bircher muesli and yoghurt and a little bit of a lie in and some reading in bed.

From there I embarked on stage one of today's two step exercise plan. I parked right outside Les Mills (gotta love the holiday period) and jumped on an exercise bike planning to ride for ten minutes to warm up. My plans were somewhat changed when I noticed that Sky Sports was playing their documentary on the Taupo race. I started watching and only got off my bike when I realised I was going to run out of time to fit some weights in before the parking meter expired.

Fortyfive minutes of upper body weights followed and I worked up a good sweat. My flow was somewhat broken however by a foul smell wafting around which got stronger each time I sat down between sets of pull-ups and push-ups. A quick glance at the base of my shoe and ... I discovered a new use for the antibacterial wipes in the Les Mills toilets. Let's just say that last week the neighbours had a load of sand delivered, which was offloaded across the path down to our house. Most of the sand has gone but there's still a reasonable layer left on the ground that has to be walked through on the way up to the car. And when cats see sand they quite logically think giant litter tray. When I finally made it back to the weights floor I was still retching and more than a little pale ...

It was a good workout though and I made it back to the car ten minutes before my parking expired and with a parking warden ticketing the car next to me.

Off home, a quick shower, lunch and some Feijoa cider and then Hamish and I embarked on a garden mission. Being Wellington our house is built on a steep slope. Below the house is a retaining wall about a storey high and along the base of the wall is what looked to be an old box garden fenced in with pallets. Over time we've used it as a place to throw garden trimmings and it's gotten increasingly overgrown. We've been planning for ages to clean it out and turn it into a proper garden and compost heap. With that in mind we ventured out a couple of days ago to buy a garden mulcher. Today was the day we planned to try it out.

When I got down the bottom of the garden (which involves a little clambering down some steep, crumbly concrete stairs) I was a bit overwhelmed by the jungle that confronted me but I figured I might as well just get stuck in. Hamish joined me not long afterwards and the fun began. He started tearing out a flax bush (don't worry - we have heaps of flax elsewhere) and I started randomly tearing at various weeds and vines.

Two hours later we had shifted a huge mound of garden waste from one place to another. We'd pulled apart the now-rotten pallets that had once formed the box garden. We had also pulled out an old television, a wall heater, some bathroom plumbing, some old guttering, countless empty plastic topsoil bags, a small pile of marbles, a rather nice blue tile, a spoon, a random rusty cog-thing, some unidentifiable electronic remnants, downpiping, corugated iron, empty plastic tobacco packets, old bottles (glass and plastic), the odd chocolate bar wrapper, downpiping and an impressive collection of rotting timber.

As is typical with anything to do with our house, what started out seeming like a straightforward job quickly grew into something larger. We retreated inside for iceblocks and a glass of Rose as we reconsidered our plan of attack. We've decided to clear a space in the corner where we'll start our compost heap, and we're planning on starting to mulch what we can. As we go we'll sort out the stuff that will need to go to the landfill and, then, we'll either heft it all up to the road (a rather large distance uphill) or I'd be happy to pay some students to do it for us.

After allowing myself a little time to recover and munch on some corn chips it was on to stage 2 of today's exercise plan. I was quite happy for an incident-free ride after nearly getting taken out on a roundabout on Cobham Drive yesterday by a woman who never took her right elbow off her car windowsill, or hand off her head as her car crept further and further across the solid white line towards me. I don't think she heard me screaming at her and I'm not sure she ever even noticed me at all.

So .... today was thankfully exactly that - incident-free. On a stunning Wellington day I sulked my way through my ride. I was over the wind - totally over the wind. I got it done, and that's all that can be said for it! Oh, I enjoyed the beautiful views, the families swimming and hanging out on the coast, the ferries coming and going. I just felt off form today. My legs didn't have the power they should have and I badly needed a riding companion.

Home, another shower and some pasta and I'm feeling satisfyingly exercised and pleased that I at least got out there and did time in the garden and time on my bike. Tomorrow calls for an early start with Dee's 6.30am RPM class and I'm supposed to be swimming so it might be time to crack out the wetsuit. That should be humbling!

Thanks Everyone

Christmas Present, 2008

Thanks to everyone who responded to my last freakout post. I had no idea there were so many of you out there! I'm going to write a response to you all (especially Nic - who is dead right that Rotorua needs to be handled as a project), but I'm a bit busy with life right now.

I got a bit stressed out in the lead-up to Christmas and it's taken a bit to find my equilibrium again. It all hit home one day in the middle of trying to change Cleo's tire, resulting in a temper tantrum, a few tears and the realisation once again that I needed some time out.

A lovely couple of days in Taranaki with the family helped (though there was damage to the waistline). I've been doing a little running, a little cycling and I'm preparing to amp things up again this week. I'm grateful for so many things and amazed every day by this life and the world around me.

Things are good!

Freakout Moment

Permit me a freakout moment for a little post ...

So, if Kate, who is a strong swimmer and whose half marathon PB is around 20 minutes faster than mine, takes about the time I was thinking I might take to do a half IM, then what am I thinking?

Let's not even mention the fact that I can't SWIM A LENGTH yet. Oh, and then there's the whole aero bar thing. I can't even imagine putting aeros on Cleo, and there's no way I can afford to buy a a tri bike. And a hot, hilly half marathon at the end of all that? What am I doing? Once again ... what am I thinking????

I guess I'm going to be a little selfish and say right now that I'm happy the Buckeye group seem to be planning to return in 2009, because I am going to need all the support I can get.

Seeing that freaking out isn't very helpful, what else can I do to work through this? Well, for a start, I can take advantage of being on holiday for most of January and spend as much of it as possible in the pool or swimming at Oriental Bay. Running the Rotorua marathon will be a huge confidence builder, and with Dave's programme I'll run another two half marathons after that. I just want to finish the marathon, but I want to sub-two hour a half marathon this year as well. I'm only three minutes off that. Perhaps I should aim for a 1.50!

On top of that, I have a huge amount of space for improvement on the bike. I have the Yarrows Round the Mountain, the Grape Ride, the Taupo challenge and any number of lead-up races in the Wairarapa to improve my speed. From what I've read, if I CAN go aero I'll get a big improvement in power. I'm anxious about the refit that would go along with adjusting to an aero position, but I know Shane at Pennys will be able to help with that.

It would help if I didn't have such a strong sense of pride. I know I'm never going to win anything, but psychologically I've always felt a real need to be mid-pack. The way I'm going I'm facing being closer to the tail-end Charlies. There really is NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT, and my ego is a terrible demon that I need to squash beneath my Adidas-shod heels.

So, if I can sort out the psychological cr#p, the only thing I need to worry about is not getting injured.

If only I hadn't just spent the equivalent of a new pair of running shoes on a new cell phone!

Help me, Buckeye veterans. Help!

Junk Miles

This should have been a more upbeat kind of post, but I think the time has finally come for a rest. I spent a wonderful day yesterday NOT doing the Makara loop on Cleo. Instead I spent the afternoon in the garden in the sun and loved it.

Today was a different story. I shuffled my way through six to seven junk kilometres. I was slow, my left knee niggled, my right ankle niggled. I think I need new shoes. It was rainy and windy and this time the weather was not exhilerating. I was over it and wanted to go home. I cut my planned run short and accepted defeat.

On top of all that we have a diagnosis for Mum, although it's not 100% confirmed yet. We have to wait on the results of the biopsy, but hopefully they will be through this week. Ironically it's not cancer, but it's treated with cancer drugs. It's going to be an interesting year. Thankfully it looks like it's reasonably treatable, which is at least something. One thing is for sure, with my dodgy genes I should not be reproducing!

Congratulations Kate!

Woohoot! I just got a txt - Kate had a great time at Rotorua and made 6.26!

Handed My Pride

Sarah handed me my pride on a platter today. We only ran for an hour but I swear it was all uphill! I'll put it down to having dead legs, and I think it's a reasonable excuse in the circumstances.

After Sunday's crazy 10km fun run I rested then got through RPM and Balance on Tuesday. On Wednesday I was back on my feet again and, despite feeling a little tight still, decided I was going to attempt the Kelburn loop. This is a roughly half-hour run, featuring a long, gradual to moderate climb on the road alongside the Botanical Gardens. Once at the top there is a kilometre or two of flat road across the viaduct and through the Kelburn shops, and then it is back down through the Botanical Gardens on tarmac path and, providing I take the right turnoff, a short, winding gravel stretch. Then it's back onto tarmac for a short, flat sprint, then down through the steep path leading through the cemetary and across the motorway, before sprinting along a flat path alongside the motorway and back to the gym. It's an excellent short, sharp run and because I know how long it should take me I can race the clock.

I wasn't planning on racing on Wednesday and made myself leave the Garmin at the gym. In the end I wished I had taken it with me as the climb up to Kelburn felt remarkably easy and I fairly sprinted through the shops and into the gardens. By the time I was back at the gym I was pleasantly surprised by the seemingly rapid return of my run fitness.

I wasn't feeling quite so smug on Thursday as all those running-specific muscles in my quads and calves reminded me that they haven't had much use over the last couple of months! I had a session with Dave booked for 5.00pm and I was a little nervous about how I would cope. In the end I need not have worried. We headed up to the playing fields in the Gardens where we did a series of running and ladder drills, then Dave put a harness around my shoulders and made me run while he pulled me backwards. I think that was what left me with sore shoulders, armpits and abs the next day.

We then upped the anti with a series of three sprint intervals, which I managed in 39 seconds, 40 seconds and 39 seconds. At least I proved I was consistent! I certainly gave my all and was left heaving for breath at the end of each. I guess I wanted to prove myself capable to my new trainer, stupid pride and all.

We finished up with some more drills and stretches then I headed off back to the gym and hobbled home. My bruised left toes were no longer my friends and as the night went on I stiffened up. By Friday morning my hips and upper quads were screaming in a way that spoke of my commitment to the prior day's intervals. I hobbled around the office all day and felt increasingly worried about running with Sarah the next morning.

Which is how I came to have my pride handed to me on Tinakori Hill! Sarah, fresh from the Korokoro run, took me up Grant Rd and then into the town belt at Wadestown. Me, with my legs screaming, found it hard to make it even up Grant Rd. Something almost separate from me almost wanted to give up.

The almost vertical street that took us to the entrance to the town belt didn't help either. It was difficult enough to walk up! After entering the park, however, things did at least level off a bit. Although in Sarah's mind it was all downhill from there, whereas the path in fact climbed steadily for a good couple of kilometres. All thoughts of proper form were wiped from my mind as I simply concentrated on forward momentum.

At least I managed to take the lead once we were on the downhill. Sarah is stronger at hill climbing than me at the best of times and, given how little running I've been doing and how dead my legs were, she could have really rubbed my nose in it had she been so inclined. As it was she had to stop and wait for me on several occasions.

We picked the pace up a bit once back on Grant Rd and managed to make it back to the gym in one hour, one minute and one second. I realised that I actually wasn't feeling as bad as I'd imagined and that I could have kept running.

We had just enough time to collect our thoughts and then it was straight into Clare's Balance class. My body wasn't feeling very cooperative, but I made it through and the twist, hamstring and rest tracks were absolutely heavenly.

So there it is, my week of unexpected pain! Goodness knows how I'm going to cope riding the Makara loop tomorrow. It's going to be interesting. Right now I hurt. A lot! And some of it's my pride ...

In reflective mode

There's a lot to post about at the moment but I can't seem to summon the mental fortitude to document it all in a coherent fashion. It started when I took a quick peek at my archives and realised how far I've come with my riding this year. In January I was still terrified of riding clipless and my first ride with Sarah was a tiny 25km.

By April I'd worked my way up to a long ride of only 55km. That was how I went into the Grape Ride - carrying an injury, a little undertrained and riding Lola, a Diamondback Interval road bike that was too heavy and didn't fit me properly, even though I loved her dearly. That 101km nearly killed me.

After that I picked up the running again and got it together in time for the Harbour Capital half marathon in June. Again I was undertrained, but I still managed a four minute PB, even if I was still three minutes off my goal.

Since then I've fallen in love with my new Genius, Cleo and become a cyclist for real. Somewhere along the way my attitude changed. Riding 160km turned out to be easier than I'd thought, even with a cold. Running a marathon? When the suggestion was made it seemed like a fantastic idea. Half Ironman? Sure, why not? I stopped worrying about whether it was possible and just started planning to do it instead.

So here I am, and if I am to have a theme at all this year it will have to be consistency. I've done really well this year but I've done a lot of it all on less than optimal training. My running, in particular, has been stalled on a couple of occasions and I can't take a break from it again.

I have to stay calm this year. I am getting a training programme together, helped by an experienced Ironman personal trainer. I will need to stick to it. Even more importantly, I will need to take care of myself so that I dont get injured. I can't do what I've done for the last two years and get injured just as I'm peaking. It's the risk of getting injured that scares me the most.

So this blog will increasingly become more about becoming half an Ironman. There will still be poetry, there will still be random ramblings. However I have to be honest with myself and admit that my training is my main focus, and that it is the primary factor in shaping the me I am becoming.

It's fitting that I'm typing this on the day that Kate, Mike and Kathy are doing Rotorua. In Taupo my new trainer is doing a half as well. Incidentally, I've compared the two half Ironman courses and am glad Kate pointed me towards Rotorua. It's much more appealing! They are all in my thoughts and I'm keen to hear how they all get on.

It's going to be a huge year but I'm incredibly excited. I'm ready, so let's bring it on!

One more photo

Now this IS on Hatepe - near the top. Still smiling!

What rest week?

Yes, I know, this was supposed to be a rest week. For months I'd been saying that I'd take a week off after Taupo. Well, it didn't happen.

I was on such a high on Monday and so pleased to be able to run again that I dashed out after work and ran an easy 5km.

I was up again on Tuesday mo rning for Dee's RPM class and I followed that up with a Balance class at lunch time.

On Wednesday my legs were questioning my sanity so I rested.

On Thursday I ran through some extreme Wellington wind. I ran out to Balaena, enjoying the tail wind past Pt Jerningham, then jogged slowly up Maida Vale. The head wind was so intense coming down the other side that I was stopped in my tracks. For some reason I found this exhilerating. 7km under my belt I felt better about my running fitness.

I rested Friday, unless you call a couple of hours of dancing at the Department's Prom themed Christmas party exercise. I was up early (feeling a little seedy) on Saturday morning to meet some of the Gearshifters for a ride. The boys blitzed Makara. The girls cruised easily around the Bays on a beautiful summer morning then climbed up to Brooklyn and back down through the city to Freyberg again.

Finally I was up early this morning to collect Sarah, who was doing the Korokoro half marathon. I was planning on running the 10km. Sarah was off at 8am and I loitered until 9. The day dawned warm and windless and the views running down the hill from Maungaraki were stunning. I tried to focus on the outlook and not on the fact that 4km of downhill on tarmac at the start of a 10km run could only lead to shredded quads and tears before lunchtime.

We ran for a very warm kilometre along SH2 and then it was back into Belmont again for the run along the river to the Korokoro Dam. I had gone into this run adament I was doing it for the fun and that I was not racing. I'd always wondered how people could approach events in this way, stopping to talk to people enroute. Well, that was my run today. At the halfway drink stop I came across a former Jog Squadder who I hadn't seen in about a year. I stopped and chatted for several minutes before it occured to me that I should continue.

The heat along the river portion of the run was, unfortunately, oppressive. I found myself walking short stretches, overwhelmed by the sun and the still air. It was a relief to be in the bush again and I started to feel a little better. I passed three young guys who had stopped off to jump in the river, and who then thundered past me.

After having spent so many hours on my bike over the last few months it was strange to be watching my Garmin and watching the kilometres count down so quickly, knowing that my race would be over in a small fraction of the time it took me to complete Taupo.

Before I knew it I was at the dam and it was time for the steep climb back up to the Oakleigh entrance to the park. Pretty much everyone walked sections of this part. I walked the steeper bits, ran the easier bits at a very slow pace. Halfway up my Garmin ticked over the 10km mark and the entire race came out slightly long at nearly 10.4.

It was wonderful to crest the final rise and lope through the finish arch, where I was presented with a medal, sculled a few glasses of water, downed a banana and an apple and waited for Sarah, who arrived 10 minutes or so later. The girl looked all together too fresh for someone who'd just run to the top of the Trig in this heatwave!

All in all no damage done. I was cautious of my knees so took the downhill slower than usual and ran at a very relaxed pace overall. I did have a nana nap on the sofa when I got home, but I think it was more an after effect of the heat more than the distance itself. It seems I can still run 10km, even if I did have the occasional walk wimpout.