This week.

I need optimism pills. Or something. I'm thinking about my week, and I know fitting everything in is going to be a challenge. Aside from the fact that the entire week revolves around the funeral on Thursday, its hard to see or think about anything but that, but to give up the week of training now would be fatal to my progress. Especially since I have my 13 mile run scheduled for Wednesday.
This weekend passed in a haze of heavy hearted treading through the days. On Saturday I did no excerise atall. My knee was still recovering from my hilly misadventure on friday, and I didn't want to risk damaging it. Sunday I cycled 20 miles, and felt like I could have done more. It was the first time I felt like even although I worked hard, I still had energy left in the tank. Perhaps its just pure adrenaline. Feeling like my fitness must be improving, I made the decision to have my regular four o'clock hour on my naughty beast of a horse, with Julie. Now Julie works us hard, and on a normal day without the external pressures, and without the 20 mile cycle, I feel exhausted at the end of the hour. Yesterday I felt sore. My horse is hard work, she is strong and makes me work for everything I ask of her, so my legs got a real shock yesterday in all. I woke up this morning feeling a little like someones punching bag, and once I get past this next hour and so of dropping a hundred children off in different places, (really only 3, but it feels more on a monday morning), I think it will just be an easy few mile jog. Its a beautiful morning for it afterall.

for my grandmother.

Its hardly anytime since I lost my grandmother. It would have been easy today for me to stay in my bed, covers over head, feeling sad, and sorry for myself. Or I could have gone for the run I had planned. I have realised the runs I have dedicated to Michelles memory, I have run without regret and without the desire to give in.
Today I ran for my Grandmother, in her memory.
I arrived at the beginning of my run to meet Tony, already feeling deflated and unsure I could manage it. I knew the majority of the run was uphill (Benarty Hill), and I also knew I had neither the desire or confidence to do it well. I also know,now having run in it a ridiculous fashion that my Grandmother would have appreciated both the effort and in turn the comedic side of the run.
Not five minutes in I developed a stitch which quite easily could have stopped me in my tracks, back to my car, and home to the comfort of my quilt. But I felt I had to at least make the effort to quit in style. The first 21/2 miles of the race are steeply uphill, and I can't begin to explain the expletives going through my head. I jogged, walked, ran, came to a total standstill several times through this period, totally believing this to be the biggest, longest hill in the world. I was an emotional basket case, and probably even worse physically. All in all, the foundations were not good.
Poor Tony, coped with my moaning all the way up, easily ignored my bad language, and happily laughed when I fell down.
At the top of the hill, it would have been nice to believe that due to my drastic weight loss that I was in peril of being blown off the top of the hill altogether. Probabilty being I could still anchor a rather large cruise ship!
Anyway, I made it up and ultimately down again in one piece.
Several miles and hopefully hundreds of calories later, here I am to tell the tale.
GT, this ones for you.

Life

Here's the thing with training for a marathon, especially at this stage of the game. It doesn't matter what is happening in your life, or where you need to be, you can't stop running. I fear if I stop I will have real trouble restarting.
Thanks to Tony ( my 'fit and happy' personal trainer), I have an easily laid out plan of what to do on what day. So.... regardless of how I am feeling today (I will spare you the details), I ran. And thanks to my new watch, again thanks to Tony, actually managed a fartlek session. Now, there's a gruesome word I didn't know anything about a few months ago, and its HARD! My knee niggled, my emotions niggled even more. I stick to the same fundamental principle however, that running really does ease stress. It helps clear the head, gage priorities, structure your feelings.
I felt altogether sad today, and after running am still in that state of mind, but with a glimmer of peaceful. And have renewed gratitude for the relationships I have that are important to me. I was reminded the other day by a member of my family that expressing that thanks is extremely important, and something easily lost in the day to day workings. So, here goes....
- My grandparents taught me there is always someone there who loves you, who remembers the important days in your life, and who will offer support under any circumstance. My Gran in particular.
- My mum and my step-father have encouraged me through every step of this training. They often have a cup of tea, or drink of juice and a pat on the back waiting for me after a long run. I'm so glad they are coming with me to London.
- My friends at the school gates (you know who you are) who are helping with fundraising, and encouraging me to keep going when I'm tired and fed up.
- My neighbour and nutrionalist Alisa, who has sorted out my diet and is running the Alloa half marathon with me. (see now you have to, its in print!)
- My Aunt and Uncle who have run many miles before me.
- Tony, who is terribly patient with me when my first response to just about everything he has me do is, "I hate that!"
- My children, who bring me back down to earth with an almighty bang. Theres nothing like walking into the house after a long run, to "mum", "mum", "mum"....... I could go on and on. Love you,
- Jacqueline, who is grieving as much today as that terrible day, but finds the time to let me know how proud Shelly would be,
- And of course Michelle. She inspires me everyday.

roller coaster

Yesterday I was enjoying the high of my roller coaster ride. Today, I fear I've plummeted to the inevitable low. I woke up this morning aching and sore, with a swollen knee again, and generally feeling sorry for myself. I've dealt with my pesky knee once or twice in the last few months, and it tends to just need a day of rest and some frozen peas, so that will be my plan for today.
Its not even ten o'clock, and already this morning,I'm worried about my Grandmother, have sworn three times, somehow managed to get the older 3 to school, fed and watered the little man, and tried again to get my pre-baby jeans on. They fit!!!!! I can't breathe, or sit down, or even really move, but they are fastened, so at lease thats something.
Being monday, and responsible for four other human beings, and a couple of four legged friends (horses), I'm overwhelmed with how I'm going to manage to fit everything in this week. Already I'm feeling guilty that I'm on a rest day, struggling with the notion that those are the days your body gets fitter and heals.....I'm desperate for a cup of coffee, would love a packet of monster munch, maybe even a mars bar! Oh, I'm on a slippery slope.

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/JaimeDuffin

Strangely comforting.

There is something quite rewarding about running early on a Sunday morning, when you know everyone else (the normal people) are still tucked up in bed, and will probably be nursing a hangover for the day. When it dawned on me that my saturday nights, and every other social gathering, would be eliminated, I was worried. I love my wine, and was unsure how I'd cope without it. I am as surprised as anyone to pass through my week, and weekends now without even giving it a second thought.
It helps that I have now lost over a stone, and can actually see muscle tone in my legs, but getting fit really is rewarding. Training for a marathon, especially one you are doing to honour a person you love is a real journey of self reflection. That sounds rather narcissistic, but when you are running on your own for 12 miles, your mind covers just about EVERYTHING! Its as much a mental game as physical one. Even a month ago, I found myself running mapped out routes, absentmindedly trying to find a road that would take me home faster.
These days, I find myself zoning out while running. Its actually magically peaceful, no-one asking anything of you, and for the first time in years, I don't even take my mobile! From a person that texts while in the bath, or at the gym, this is a massive step in life.
Running has also becoming my favourite time of the day. This all sounds ever so slightly trite, because there are moments I curse the very idea of taking another step, and sometimes it can be really boring, but I mean all things considered, it has finally happened for me. The all elusive "bug" runners talk about. I have it.
I look at my calender with less dread today.

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/JaimeDuffin

The reason why....

I was on my track and field team at school, and once for a short while held the school record for the 800 meters. That athleticism is what I'm on the hunt for now. The running is hard in and of itself, but its my mind that does me the most damage. When I started this training I started it after doing sod all for months on end, running a mile was torture to both my legs, and my belief that I could do this race justice. Oh its not about finishing the race this time. I know how long 26.2 miles is... I know what mile 18 feels like, but what I don't know is what it is to give it my all. To run with purpose and a reason.
I am running on behalf of the charity CRY. Cardiac Risk in the Young. It promotes heart screening for those under the age of 35, as so many young people die each year of undiagnosed heart conditions, and to provide support to the familes who have lost someone close to them.
My reason is Michelle. My cousin.She dies last year after a bike race. She was 33, and her death left the family and friends in shock. I wish I had photographs to document the memories I now hold dear. The dancing around my living room, thumping sans grace to loud disco music. Or jumping into her pool in South Africa to fish out all her little toy cars. Or punching the soft bark tree in my front garden one summer frustrated. Most especially knowing when Shell got on a horse that she fell in love with those creatures as much as I was. Her smile, and her tenacity for life.
The 33 year old Michelle I didn't know so well. A few facebook messages, some touching, but not nearly as much contact as if I'd known she would now no longer be here.
Michelle was a tremendous athlete, she loved her sport. If she were training me for this marathon it wouldn't be just to get to the end, it would be to get there as best I could, so that is my plan. To run it as if she were too, and I plan on doing her proud.
Easy to say, especially as tonight I'm sat here exhausted physically and emotionally with the training. Its hard and its kicking my arse. Along with all the support and guidance and encouragement I get from family and friends, its the few negative or horror stories you hear that are hard to shake. Its a bit like pregnancy - Everyone has a story and they're not pretty. I mean WHY do people say things like, "I knew a guy who passed out 200meters from finishing. Don't do that!" Hmmmm, actually that was my plan, to run my heart out, and then just collapse before I cross the finish line!
SO, I have the reason, I have the motivation, the shoes, the shirt, and a few of the miles beneath my belt. Now I just need to find the determination to carry through to the very end!
Here we go Shell.....