On being right, whether by accident or design.

Oh glory glory glory be! How lovely it is to be right!  Being the grandchild of a wonderful but notoriously contrary matriarch I really don't like being told what to do.  Furthermore being told what to do by a man (even if it's my coach) grinds my gears just a tad.  (Remind me again...Why am I single?)

Being told to rest til Monday didn't sit too well with me to put it mildly.  So what did I do instead?
Well I went for a 3 hour hike in the Wicklow mountains yesterday and then ran 10.5 glorious miles today. Huzzah!

Anyway I feel great now so who cares which of us was right (Me! Me me me! I care!)  
Yes I am 9 years old.

In fairness to the coach I was in such a state Thursday he was absolutely right to recommend rest.  And in my defense, if the hike yesterday had gone badly or I'd felt drained afterwards then I wouldn't have considered going out today.  Despite my underlying misgivings I do absorb information from those who know more than me. Anyone who thinks they always know best and has nothing to learn from others is omitting a lot from the learning process.

The hike was glorious though and I had so much energy when I came back I cleaned my apartment from top to bottom.  After a lovely relaxing evening and a great nights sleep I woke up to blue skies and a perfect view of the slightly snow dusted mountains in the distance.  Who wouldn't be inspired to get outside by that?  And in all fairness I really didn't have anything else to do so off I set giving myself full permission to run 10min/miles and to turn back at any point if I felt unwell.
I shouldn't have worried.  My legs were slightly heavy near the end but apart from that I ran consistant 9-9:30min/miles for the entire thing.  No unscheduled stops (except to fiddle with headphones and my visor) and no stomach issues.  No breathlessness and no nausea.

So hopefully this chapter has come to a close I can work towards getting back to where I was before and then onwards and upwards.

When hurts so good turns to sucks so bad

I'm officially going through a bad patch with running.  At least I hope it's a bad patch and not some awful new normal.  

As planned I headed up to the curragh camp Thursday night for a training run with the club.  Planned on being really conservative and doing about 4 miles total.  Of course secretly I was hoping I'd warm up, jog the first lap and feel so fantastic that I would end up only doing the 4 miles but know that I could have done more if I wanted.  Spoiler alert....That didn't happen!

What really happened is this.  I turned up, ran about 1.5 miles at what should have been an easy pace but felt ridiculously hard.  And then I died.  

Well not quite but I felt like I did.  Double vision, heart-rate through the roof, breathing uncontrolled, legs of lead.  I did a pathetic sobby little jog back the next mile to the car by which point I had calmed down a bit. At least I wasn't doing the "Woe is me! My running is broken!" wail by the time the coach spotted me so at I didn't look like as big of an eejit.  Anyway I was told to go home and not come back til Monday and see how I get on then.  Which is probably sensible advice so I'll ignore it and give it another go by myself on Sunday.  

Of course!

Well what exactly did I expect from Sunday?  A triumphant return to running in front of the local crowd?  Maybe.
A new PB?  Hopefully.
A respectable finish time?  At worst!

How about my very first DNF?  Yup!  I had to drop out after three horrible kilometers and get a lift back with one of the guys at the nearest water station.  Morto!

The bit of the race I did  I can only describe as like trying to run wearing glasses that are several notches away from your prescription on tiny stilts elevated off the ground.  Not my finest moment.

Anyway I think I might have learned my lesson.  My priority this week has been to regain some kind of appetite and get through my workday and daily chores without feeling like I've been run over by a truck.

Once I feel like I've conquered that I'll get back to running.  Hopefully that will begin tomorrow as it's Thursday and that's my favourite night to run easy and catch up with other club members.  I have been trying to do seven miles on a Monday and Thursday night up until this but I think I'll take that back to about three or four tomorrow if I end up going.  Same Friday if I feel up to it and then Saturday is hill walking in Glendalough with some girls from work.  Looking forward to that one! Then if all is well I'll do something a bit longer on Sunday.  Here's hoping!

Back to the grindstone

So I didn't die obviously.  Nasty dose of the flu though so I'm only feeling back to normal now. Went for a slow 2 miles yesterday and it was unnecessarily difficult.  I was sweaty throughout and slightly nauseous so the smart thing would be to rest today.

But I'm doing a race instead! 

Can't help myself!   It's the inaugural running of my hometown 10k and as I'm home for the weekend anyway it would be a shame to miss it.

I have no idea how this is going to go. I can't use my 5k in slane for comparison as it was on trail.  Also if it goes badly it might be due to the illness.

What I do know is I'm well trained for the distance and I know to expect pain and execute my race plan anyway. What I don't know is if the unquantifiable "it" will be there today. Judging by yesterday,  no.. But then when is there ever a correlation between a final training run and race day? Wait and see I suppose! 

I'm really excited though. Proper butterflies and everything!

Sick. Boo!!

It all started with a headache and weird visual disturbances in my right eye at work yesterday around lunchtime.  Of course I blamed this on stress and waited for it to pass.  Yeah, no!

Starting having the shakes on the way home despite wearing lots of layers and the heat blasting in the car.  Three attempts at the code got me into my apartment building, and for the first time without multiple shopping bags I used the lift.

Had a little cry while I fumbled with my door keys and stumbled in, scaring my children with my grey visage and chattering teeth.  Poor things!

So I haven't really moved from my bed since then except for inevitable bathroom trips.  My clothes are still on the floor from yesterday. 
This is all utterly out of character.  I like my bed fine but in not someone who hangs out here a lot.  Love my early mornings too much!  And usually I would make some attempt at cleaning.....but I just can't.  Don't have it in me.

So I'm chilling in my bed, trying to find a comfy position (everything hurts) and feeling very sorry for myself.  Luckily I have the best teenagers in the world getting my water, lemsip and anything else I desire!

One thing I'm not worried about is running.  It's utterly unthinkable for me to go to the shops in the car even so going for a run is not an option. 

Wednesday whine

It's not that I particularly hate Wednesdays.  It's more that I hate the thought of going to the track.
Note that I'm quite specific about this.  I don't actually hate doing track work.  I just hate thinking about it. But I went anyway.

Ran down to the track (conveniently located about half a mile from my apartment) Did another mile warm up and then 5x800m at an average of 7.10min/mile and it felt fairly manageable (in hindsight that is.)  Another 400m cool down and then ran home.

And now I'm high as a kite and can't wait for next week.  When I won't want to go again.  Will have to come back here and read this to remind myself.

Runners Hair

I don't understand ladies who exercise regularly but still manage to look well groomed the rest of the time. Or maybe I do understand perfectly but just refuse to prioritise being well groomed myself and am slightly in awe and jealous!

Don't get me wrong, I love to get dressed up as much as the next girl for a special occasion but I know that if I put in the energy to blowdry and style my hair every day then I would have to cut out some other area that I deem more important.  Like running, stretching, helping kids with homework, preparing healthy meals, reading blogs, housework, anything! Or i'm just lazy.  It could very very easily be that. 

Also it seems a little pointless if you are sweating at least 5 days a week to put an hour into your hair and then scrape it back for a work-out.  No? Just me?

All this talk of hair is because of my impending appointment to get my roots retouched this morning.  I decided that over three months of regrowth was probably enough as it was getting to the stage where I was wearing it curly/frizzy even on nights out to cover the dodgy dark roots! 

I'm sure I'll come back pledging to look after my hair more and make more of an effort in the grooming department. (But I will know I don't really mean it)

Update: Back from the hairdresser and this is as good as it gets.  It's all downhill from here!