Am I A Cyclist Yet?

A friend recently asked me the above big question. Cycling along side by side on a Sunday morning club ride having the chat, he turns to me out of the blue and asks “So, are you a cyclist yet?”

This is a big question and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. I was slow to answer at the time because while the obvious answer after 2 1/2 years cycling 40 km to work every morning, competing in triathlons and regularly doing spins over 150 km, would be yes, obviously I am cyclist… my inclination is to answer no, not quite yet.

I remember writing an article way back in the day when I first started running entitled “Am I Runner?” which described my initial year of running, feeling out my running legs in the dark when no one else could see me (or recognise me), wearing long sleeve, long-legged everything to hide every bit of me and when 5 minutes continuous running felt like a marathon achievement. It took months and months, races and races, horrendous weather conditions, many big hills and at least one marathon before I felt I had earned the right to call myself “a runner”.

I have always felt strongly that to call yourself a runner, you have to earn it. It is not something you pick off a shop shelf because you like the look of it, swipe your Visa card and hey presto, it’s yours. You’re not a runner because one day you suddenly decide to  go to the Nike Shop, buy an expensive pair of running shoes and all the latest running gear, and proceed to tell all your friends about the big races you’ve signed up to and about all the great training you’re going to do. Nope.

You. Have. To Earn. It. Miles after miles, day in day out, week in, week out. Rain, wind, sun… In the mood, not in the mood.

This applies to any sport. Those people who you see out running at 6am before dawn or 9pm after a full day’s work, day after day, sun or wind or rain, whether you’re not in the mood or bloody sick of running. They lace up, put on their gear and get out the door. It’s the rower on the river at 5 am. The swimmer waiting outside the for the pool to open at 6 am. The hard core open water swimmers down at the sea every morning, with nothing more than their togs, cap and goggles. These people earn their kudos and they own their titles.

We all know people who talk a good race. You know – the type who ask you about a race you’ve just done, only to immediately jump in to tell you all about all the great training they’ve done, how fast they can run a 10km and how they used to be able to run a 2.5 hour marathon… Or there’s the wannabe types, who spend a horrendous amount of money buying all the high end gear (the best bike, turbo trainer, high end brand shorts, carbon shoes, etc) and explain in painful detail all the training they are PLANNING on doing but strangely, every week there is a new excuse for why they didn’t manage to get out that weekend. I know a few people who have done exactly that – bought new bikes, all the gear and no less than 2 years later, they still have not managed a single bike ride.

I don’t care what other people do or don’t do – I say whatever makes you happy, go for it. Do you. If some folks like to buy lots of cool stuff, go for it. If you have no interest in running or cycling, that’s cool too, I’m sure you have other interests. But what makes me crazy is people who pronounce themselves as a runner or a cyclist when they are NOT. When they have not earned it. I’ve always innately felt this is disrespectful to real cyclists, true runners.

If you run, you are a runner. If you cycle, you are a cyclist. That’s it. The rest is just bullshit.

You don’t have to be fast. You don’t have to have the physique of an elite. You don’t have to be extreme or obsessive about it. But you do have to DO it.

So when I was asked lately “So are you a cyclist yet?” I had to think on it, I had to be sure in my own heart and soul that I had earned the right to call myself a cyclist.

I came to cycling undeliberately (not a word…) and reluctantly. It was the third, unwanted, unloved leg of triathlon, but at the same time, inevitable and unavoidable. I used to dread the cycle leg of triathlon events. My swim would be okay and my run was always where I made up ground and found my stride. But I was no good at the cycle and it was always just about getting around and getting through it. But then I injured my feet as a result of marathon overtraining and I had to shelve running for nearly three years. This left me with lots of extra time and extra energy, along with an unhealthy dose of frustration and heartbreak as a result of not being able to run. So I started cycling. Once a week became 2/3 times a week, with Sunday spins gradually increasing to 50km and upwards. I was still slow but I was starting to enjoy it. The peace and freedom of it was something I hadn’t noticed or appreciated before. Plus, it was so much less hectic than running – who knew sport could be like this?? You can actually look around you at the pretty fields and animals, eat real food and oh yeah, breathe. AND there’s coffee stops!

Will cycle for scones. I really am that simple.

After a year of pedalling about on my entry level road bike, I knew cycling had become part of my regular life so I decided to upgrade my wheels and I bought a carbon frame Liv Envie. I loved this bike immediately, once I got over the initial feeling that the bike was tiny and I was going to fall over the handlebars… So much faster, so much more responsive, I started to love cycling and really started to enjoy it.

I joined a cycling club last February and it’s easily one of the best things I’ve done in the last few years. As a runner, I was so used to always training on my own and doing my own thing, so I wasn’t sure if I would take to the group rides. I also was nervous that my cycling wouldn’t be up to the club standard and I was worried I wouldn’t be able for it and I would be holding people up or not able to cycle in a peloton. But the people in the club were fantastic from day one – couldn’t be more welcoming and friendly and the support and encouragement from everyone has been only brilliant. Since joining the club 15 months ago, I’ve gone from my longest cycle being 90km (and felt epic at the time…) to 226km and 4000m of climbing just over a year later.

Hanging out in sunny Mallorca.

Last month, I took part in a cycling endurance event with my cycling club called the Mallorca 312 and I completed the 225 km course. There was in or about 4,000 metres of climbing, it was hot and there was a time limit which required you to reach certain points by certain times or you would be deemed out of the race. In short, it was definitely up there as one of the tougher endurance events I’ve done and it was without doubt, the hardest cycle I’ve ever done. But I loved it. And even more shocking than that, I was able for it.

Food stop at the Mallorca 312 – pure chaos! Check out that blue sky though…

The club group put in months of long training rides over the winter months from about October to April, which saw us take on Sunday spins between 100-192 km(some guys did more than me!) every week, over and back over the Wicklow mountains in shocking rain, big winds and there was more than one occasion of bloody snow. In short, much hard toil and inglorious graft was given by all, each earning their place at the starting line in Mallorca.

Over 11 hours on a bike and still smiling – life is properly awesome sometimes.

Every weekday morning, my alarm goes off. I get out of bed, get washed and grab my jersey, shorts and cycling shoes. I roll out the door 5 minutes later and whatever the weather might be, whatever my mood might be, I cycle the 40 km to work. I look forward to the weekends when I can go for a longer, bigger adventure on the bike, with big hills to climb and fast descents to master. I have cycled in 30+ degree heat in the south of France on the Col de Aubisque. I have cycled 192 km in the depths of winter, 132 km of which was unrelenting rain, wind, hail and eventually blinding snow. Wearing shorts. I have been knocked off my bike by a car who drove off leaving a badly concussed me and my lovely bike sprawled all over the road. I have had many arguments with bad drivers about the rules of the road. I have had many, many punctures, most of which I have managed to repair, some I did not. I have had to carry my bike on my shoulder for long distances due to irreparable mechanicals experienced out in the middle of nowhere. I regularly say hello to and talk to complete strangers as if we are old friends just because they too are riding a bike. My purse has become a plastic sleeve that slips neatly into the bag of a cycling jersey. I spend more money on bike maintenance than I would on my car. And I don’t go anywhere anymore without pressing start on my Garmin.

Am I a cyclist? Yes. I am a cyclist.

Are you?

Would you call yourself a runner? A cyclist? At what point did you feel you had become one?

Let’s Talk About Feet (again)

Full disclosure-these are not my feet but I love this picture. Happy feet or what?!

I’ve talked about my feet so many times on this blog that I’m starting to feel they have more of a presence than I have on here. In fairness, their drama, trips, days out, dates and life in general has been far more exciting than my own of late…

For those who don’t know (and have been saved that pedi-saga) I injured both feet in the run-up to the Paris marathon 2016, in or about March last year, which has resulted in me being benched from running for nearly 10 months now. Since then, I’ve seen numerous physiotherapists, a GP, a chiropodist and two orthopaedic surgeons who specialise in feet – all of whom have given me a different diagnosis in terms of the source of the pain in my feet. The first physio told me it was soft tissue damage, “just a battering” from all the marathon training. The second physio (from the same clinic) told me it was NOT a soft tissue injury at all, rather it was more likely a rheumatological condition, possibly rheumatoid arthritis.

On foot of what physio no.2 said, I visited my GP who ran blood tests which confirmed no inflammatory markers in my bloods. So, she ruled out the possibility that the cause of my foot pain was rheumatoidal. She referred me on to an orthopaedic specialist who specialises in foot problems on the basis that the pain could be a result of a stress fracture. On inspection of my feet, this orthopaedic surgeon was of the opinion that indeed the source of my foot pain was most likely a result of a stress fracture – 90% sure it was a stress fracture in the 5th metatarsal – to be precise.

Went for an MRI… went back to Mr. Ortho… no stress fracture, anywhere in my feet. He then promptly informed me that he could do nothing further for me given that the problem did not appear to be a bone problem nor could he offer any opinion on what was wrong with my feet.

At this point, I cried.

It had been 9 months of different experts, with wildly different views on what is wrong with my damn feet. And here I was, after spending a chunk of money on all these guys and having not been able to go for a run in so long standing in a car park outside a hospital thinking I’m never going to be able to run again…. and not one person can tell me what is wrong with me. So I cried. With my Dad (who had kindly come with me to the appointment) looking at me like I was crazytown.

This week I went to see another orthopaedic (foot) surgeon for a second opinion, which if nothing else, was hilarious. What my mother calls a good old-fashioned surgeon- glasses, dicky bow, abrupt, utterly unsympathetic, impatient and entirely forthright and opinionated – I loved it. After examining my feet, he took the view that I have basically bad feet. I have splayed, wide feet, with bunions, swelling in the forefoot and collapsed arches – basically, all these factors combined mean that the mechanics of my feet is all off. He told me that the custom orthotics I had made many years ago were useless on their own and that they would not be effective without accompanying exercises to make them work.

So what did he decide should be the next step? A physio! No, but not just anyone, he specifically recommended a Dublin physio who has worked with Athletics Ireland specialising in sports injuries with good experience. Given that this glowing referral came from a man who strikes me as exceptionally hard to impress, I’m expecting great things. I’m honestly very excited and feeling more positive about this than I have in months.

I have an appointment in 2 weeks time and I can’t wait. In the meantime, I also have an appointment to see a rheumatologist to investigate my Reynaud’s and just to rule out any rheumatoidal cause of my foot pain.

For the moment, I am still cycling away at weekend and early mornings before work, when I can. The mornings are slowly getting brighter earlier and the days are starting to stretch out and I can’t wait for those long Summer days… I also just joined a gym to action my new year’s resolution to get stronger this year. Strength and conditioning is an area I’ve neglected for a long time and I’m hoping if I can work on it, it might help with my feet/ knee/other injuries going forward.

Injuries suck, no doubt. I miss running massively. Word. But for the first time in a long time, I’m starting to feel like there’s hope that maybe some day in the near (ish) future, one of these experts will tell me it’s time to run again.

And what a wonderful day that will be. Happy running folks, enjoy!

Late Birthday Celebrations & Days Off

I would be the first to confess to being overly strict when in training for a big event like a marathon or triathlon. Watching what I eat, being careful about the quality of the food going into my body and trying to keep my weight at a place where I feel comfortable running and cycling. You should know though, I’m not obsessive and I have no desires to be “skinny” – rather, I train and perform better when I feel comfortable in my own skin and for me that means feeling trim and strong.

I’ve no elite toned body shape going on but for me this is as trim as it gets! Dont think it’s too bad for someone who used to carry an extra 2.5 stone.

I’ve come to believe though that it’s not good to be at that point all year round – to be at what some call your “racing weight”. Apart from the possibility that it might not actually be good for your body in the long run to keep your weight lower than is healthy, it also creates too much pressure and stress for your mind. It’s like trying to be perfect ALL of the time. Not sustainable and will make you go crazy.

So how do you balance these two competing issues? I’m no expert but in the last couple of years I’ve found that works for me is allowing myself to train hard and focus coming up to a big race and then celebrate and enjoy a more relaxed time for a while afterwards. That way, I feel ready to go again for the next training period.

What does that garble actually equate to in reality? It means I take a few days of doing no training except for maybe a gentle cycle or swim, lots of bubble baths and sitting around with my legs up. Then there’s all the food. Chinese takeaways, ice-cream, M&M’s, confectionery coming out my ears and a few nice lunches or dinners out with friends and family. Lots of crap, in other words. I’d generally stay away from this kind of food when I’m in training simply because while it tastes good going down, it makes my body feel gross. It’s not the type of food that makes me feel good from the inside and if I don’t feel good, I don’t perform good. Very simple.

I eat fish at least 4 times a week, cuz yeah it’s good for me but I also just love it. Clean, environmentally friendly eating… are you loving all the goodness going on here yet?

A few days indulging in rubbish is kiddy-like fun but then I quickly have enough and find I want to get back to eating well and training again.

Ironman 70.3 Dublin last weekend was one such big event for me. The legs were useless for Monday and Tuesday and stairs were a non-runner (pardon the pun). It was also my birthday last weekend so this week was always going to be a chill-out week. A few easy cycles in the last few days helped to ease residual tightness and fatigue in my legs, readily aided by a few long bubble baths 😉

Ironmanned and done, done, done.

Today I met my cousin and 4 year old godchild for lunch in Avoca along with my Mum and her friend. The food in Avoca is legendary and today’s offerings of confit duck salad with blood oranges, lentils, feta cheese and green beans finished with a lemon posset dessert was no exception. Scrumdiddly. I never pick confit of duck ordinarily but thought I’d live dangerously today and was so glad I did, it was very, very good.

I also picked up a few bits and bobs in the shop, as one cannot avoid doing when in Avoca…

Best Ever Granola from Avoca is something I’ve gotten really into lately. Apricots, big ass brazil nuts and pumpkin seeds all knockin around in there with an undertone of a funky orange oil… goes very well with some greek yogurt and berry compote, which has been my breakfast, supper and anytime snack really…

Cranberries, apricot, brazils, almonds, orangey goodness.

This Cake – look I honestly don’t know what it’s called but it was bloody wonderful. Maybe it’s because I eat cake all of probably twice a year that it tasted that good, but it was really very, very good. Think carrot cake meets bakewell tart. Cream cheese icing on top of a carrot cake middle, on top of a layer of jam on a pastry base. Fresh as a daisy and light as anything. C’est super.

No.1 cake spot goes to this lady here. #BeatThat

White chocolate biscuit cake – Understand this is not all for me, I’m not that bad. I got this to give to other people but obviously had to taste it in the interests of reviewing it for you fine people 😉 This was disappointing to be honest. Very non-descript taste. I imagined it was going to have a strong white chocolate hit to it, given that it’s pretty much a solid lump of white chocolate with bits of biscuit, marshmallow and raspberries. Alas, it did not. Thumbs down from me.

So pretty…eh looks better than it tastes. 3/10

Before you come to the conclusion (though I would understand if you had already gotten there!) that I am indeed a savage, I am saving the rest of my Avoca loot for another time. So you shall have to wait for my review of Avoca’s raw health food brownie and similarly raw and health foody caramel slice.

Pancakes and Birthday Cake are on the menu for tonight’s supper, along with family time, the original Blair Witch Project, and the main event… cheering on Mo Farah in the Olympic final of the Men’s 5000m race.

On Monday, I’ll be drawing up a training plan for the next few months and cracking into good eating again. I love my down time and I love my up time. But as with any seesaw, the trick in it is not letting yourself go too far up or too far down.

After all, you don’t wanna fall off.

Fly Byes

What is the real truth about running?

Pull up any running blog and what you will see are pictures of people decked out in running gear, most looking fairly fit and healthy, in various degrees of glamour. Topics vary from running shoe reviews, race reports, nutrition, goals, training to what they like to eat on their days off. I love a good running blog.

What people never mention is the amount of airborne creatures you will inhale, swallow and otherwise ingest into your body in your running lifetime. That’s right – I’m talking flies, midges, mosquitoes and every other variety of tiny, filthy little wing-bearing insect out there. WARNING: Tasty subject ahead.

In your mouth as you desperately try to gasp in air, crawling from a landing point on your cheek or lips or otherwise dive-bombing as if hitting their target at speed. Bouncing off the back of your throat, again as you TRY TO BREATHE but also now trying to NOT SWALLOW the live creature you can feel sticking to the walls of your esophagus… There follows a few minutes of graceful runner behaviour of gagging, trying to breathe, spluttering and waving all over the road as you try to get the little bugger out of there – as you also, of course, try to keep running. Duh. Obviously a runner does not stop running. That would be silly.

In your eyes. The winged insects bullseye. Or at least that’s how it always seems to feel when they plow full force into the middle of your eyeball, having skilfully managed to zoom right into your face and dart underneath your eyelashes, while you are effectively a moving, bouncing target. I’d be impressed if I didn’t hate the little fuckers so much. Or there’s the ones that hit the corner of your eye, get knotted up IN YOUR EYELASHES, as you try to blink them out and get rid of the temporary blindness, only to result in them (or parts of them…) getting lost somewhere around the back of your eye. You then spend the next hour seeing bits of black wings and legs in the corner of your eye and are plagued by that constant companion feeling of something stuck in your eye. Tossers.

Up your nose. Somehow. Somehow, these teeny tiny little creatures not only occasionally manage to successfully hit your face target dead on centre, but they also skilfully sweep, at the very last second, a right hand turn up your nose. HOW DO THEY DO THAT? It simultaneously amazes me and drives me bananas. There follows more runners’ grace of blowing out one side of the nose frantically trying to clear the live creature from another orifice.

Summertime multiplies the number of live protein ingested by runners at least 5 fold. Get on a bike – and we’re talking possibly 15 times more. And they’re bigger. No joke. At least on the bike, you can duck your helmet down when you see a swarm (flock? gathering? what do you call a large gathering of midges?) and proceed like a battering ram going into battle. Just don’t lift your head up too early 😉

This is the reality of running (and cycling). 99% of days it’s just you and the road. Your breathing, your body temperature, your muscles – all starting to go to work. Doesn’t matter what you look like – whether your hair looks good, whether your clothes clash or whether you look good when you run. What matters is that you are out there running, doing your thing, being proactive in making yourself feel good. Fast breath, sweat, feeling the ground beneath your feet, pushing yourself to exhilaration and achieving more than you ever thought you could.

That is real running.

And real running is always accompanied by flies and midges. Top tip 😉 You heard it here.

#BePrepared

 

Happy Weekend

You know when you eat an entire bag of Carrs salt and vinegar crackers after a few glasses of white wine on a Friday evening, at the end of a crazy week… Ooph, what’s the best way to deal with that bloated full cracker feeling? #weeklywisdom

Go for a big ass cycle.

Or sleep it off.

(Either works, just in so you know 😉 )

It was a half-decent day outside so I decided to throw the bike in the car and head over to Blessington from where I planned to cycle the Wicklow and Sally gaps. Understand, that by half-decent, I mean it wasn’t raining and in Ireland, that’s good enough. Never turn your nose up at a dry day here, you gotta run (or cycle) with what you got.

I hadn’t cycled the gaps since last year so didn’t remember the route that well. Turns out, there is vomit-inducing-cracker-repeating fair bit of climbing on the way out from Hollywood to Lara but then there are some awesome, face-streamed-with-tears descents too so it makes it absolutely worth the effort. Lots of other happy cyclists out and about too which is always great to see and comforting to those of us who are not yet skilled in the art of not-puncturing…

New Stuff This Week You Might Like to Know About…

1. Movies – Star Trek, Ghostbusters and The Secret Life of Pets. There really isn’t much on in the cinema at the moment and the pickings are well and truly slim. Best of the bunch is Ghostbusters, despite popular criticism. It’s a Kristen Wigg/ Melissa McCarthy comedy combo, with the same kinda humour and feel to Bridesmaids. Lots of decent female humour and some proper laugh out loud scenes. Don’t expect too much, just go and have yourself a night with a buddy and a good laugh. Don’t mind the critics. I honestly don’t know what people expect from a film like Ghostbusters…

Star Trek was okay – decent 3D effects and light entertainment but too long and not as good as the last one

The Secret Life of Pets was disappointing. I’m not gonna lie, I was quite devastated. I saw the ads, I read the previews and I was genuinely excited to see this. It was a brilliant idea and had so much potential but the story, the script and the wit were… lacking.

2. Energy Bars I tried This Week –Trek Berry Burst. 

I’m doing this thing at the moment where I’m trying all the new energy bars I come across. You get bored eating the same ones so it’s good to shake it up. Two things you need to forgive me for – (a) I live in Ireland and (b) I’m slow (the two are not related…unless you’re from Dublin) My American friends have been talking about Trek bars for years but they didn’t make it to our green shores til recently and I’m slow to notice things so… I had my first Trek bar this week and it was decent. Good flavour, quite filling and made of only good ingredients. No e-numbers and extra unwanted crap in there. Just fruit, soya protein crunchies (just go with that one), fruit juice, oats and soya flour. Gluten, wheat and dairy free. Will be trying another flavour.

 

3. Nike Air Jordan’s – I got my first pair!!!!! 

I have wanted a pair of Jordan’s since I was a basketball-playing nerdy awkward teenager but for some reason, it never happened. I started a new job recently and there’s a Footlocker shop across the road, which I’ve been popping into frequently ever since… stalking the Jordan section in particular 😉 Yesterday, after I passed my final exams I decided it was time to treat myself. I may be too old for them now, or the wrong sex, or too Irish to be wearing Jordan’s but I could not care one single bit. I love my shiny new shoes.

4. Mark Cavendish’s Book – At Speed – 

The speed demon that is British cyclist Mark Cavendish left the Tour de France earlier this week after another impressive run of stage wins. This lad is on form at the moment and is going to be exciting to watch at the upcoming olympic games. He’s also got mad character so you know reading his story is going to be good.

5. Nerding up on cycling nutrition and training – I seem to be a cyclist these days so I’m trying to read a bit more about how I could be eating better as a cyclist and training better as a result. Here’s a few posts I’ve read this week:

Big Fat Lies of Cycling Nutrition

Re-fuelling Correctly After a Long Ride

Eating Enough Is Key

Little Things About Cycling…

How To Descend Like a Pro and Not Die – I just loved the title of this one. But also cuz it’s true.

Happy Weekend!!! Have a good one!

 

A Good Time to Open the Windows

Some say that when one door closes, another one opens. Not one that I’ve always agreed with to be honest. Another door won’t open unless you make your way over to it and open it yourself and if you’re lost, befuddled, upset or confused or just spinning around in circles, it’s more likely that you wouldn’t even realise that there were other doors in the house to open.

Sometimes it takes a while to calm down, take a few deep breaths and look around you to see the doors, to open the windows and look at the possibilities.

Can you see the wood from the trees?

One that I do live by is that problems are not stop signs, but challenges to be figured out.

End of cheesy sayings and whimsical wonderings now, I promise.

Being currently footless, I’m sidling a wall, on one side of which I occasionally  crash-land. This side is one of panic in which all I can think of is the fact that I can’t run, cycle, walk or put any pressure at all on my feet without them hurting. Without any resolution of my ongoing foot pain and with recommendations from the physio that I may need to see a rheumatologist, my mind occasionally spirals in this horrible direction…

On the other side of the wall, a world of opportunity and undiscovered gems.

I’m swimming a lot more these days and have noticed my pace getting faster, which has been an unexpected bonus. So far today, I’ve taken the dog to Glending Forest for some quality us time 😉 , washed the car (inside and out!), visited my elderly neighbour who wanted to show me his new bathroom and watched Friday’s stage of the Giro. Later, I’ll be babysitting my 4 yr old godchild and when she goes to bed, I’m going to crack out the books and do some studying.

Much of what I’m doing is distraction from what I currently cannot do. I’ve made no secret of the fact that I’ve struggled with this but I think I’m getting better at making the most of this downtime.

Because what I have got right now is a problem. And opportunity.

Opportunity to hang with the old girl.

Bless her, she gave it socks this morning. Not bad for 16.

Opportunity to get stuck into work.

Opportunity to devour books.

Yeah, I know…another cycling book right? But this one is the best of the lot so far.

Opportunity  to read the newspaper from end to end. With copious amounts of coffee, duh.

Opportunity to be more creative with cooking…

Re-discovering fried eggs… going on EVERYTHING. Accompanied by avocado on everything. Bit like representing the Irish flag on every plate of food.

Opportunity to go to the movies more.

Jack O’Connell is the best part of Money Monster, hands down. Love this guy.

And opportunity  to catch up on the Giro D’Italia and watch back recordings from the previous week.

What an incredible stage on Friday. Absolutely epic.

I’m not okay with being injured and not able to do the things that make me feel awesome and wonderful and alive. But while I’m working on figuring out that problem, I can at least enjoy the opportunities that I have now to discover and spend time doing other things.

Happy weekend all!

 

Finding My Feet

I haven’t posted for a few days because with not being able to run for a never-ending lifetime the last few weeks, I started to feel like I had nothing to contribute to the running community.

Not true.

Most runners will have periods in their running lives when they can’t run, due to injury, life changes, medical reasons or otherwise. So not running is actually probably a big thing for runners. I know it certainly is for me.

Not being able to run is a bit like grief. You go through stages…

1. Disbelief / in shock

You guys have nooooo idea what you’re talking about. Ha, but you do amuse me.

2. Panic.

WWHHHHAATTTTT????????!!!!!

3. Non-acceptance / denial

Nah, it won’t take that long to heal. Sure, I’ll just take 2 weeks off running, roll it out a lot, do some stretches and employ lots of ice baths. I’ll be grand for all the races I’ve signed up to this summer. S’all fine.

4. Frustration. A combination of an unusual and rarely experienced surplus of energy buzzing around your body, combined with the horrifying prospect of not being able to return to running for an unknown time…as realisation of your injury starts to sink in.

Ay, all this worrying is making my head hurt…

5. Anger. At yourself for not being diligent and disciplined enough to stop running earlier when you first felt a niggle and treat it properly then. At the universe for not making my limbs stronger. At everyone who tells you it’s no big deal and sure you must be sick of running by now anyway. At life for being a big meanie and stripping me of the sole remaining positive, good thing I had left in my teeny world.

 

Grrrrrrr….

6. Uncertainty and Self-reassessment. When something that makes up a large part of your life or who you are changes, it forces you to stop and re-think things. You think about how you feel now, how it makes things different. Am I different now? Am I the same person? So much uncertainty…

Am I staying??? Am I going???? What is going on here?!?!

When I stopped running first, I was cool with it – I needed to allow time for my foot injuries to heal and this was just something I had to bite down on. Then I rapidly progressed into the above stages and in short, went a little batty.

It wasn’t helped by the realisation that cycling was not aiding the process, nor just being a benign companion alternative activity and had to be stopped immediately. All I was left with was swimming and while I like swimming, I’m finding that twice a week is really my limit. After that, I find I get a bit bored with it, it makes me sneeze a LOT for days afterwards and it’s expensive to pay the use the pool every time.

My week at the moment is 2-3 swims (2km -3.2km each), foot massages with a frozen golf ball, ice baths for the feet, anti-inflammatory gel and ibuprofen. I try to keep walking to a minimum and avoid putting any pressure on the sore parts of my foot whenever possible. I have a date with the physio on Wednesday and hoping for some kind of positive outcome or analysis.

Injury and rehabilitation are part of the running life and are therefore part of what makes a runner, a runner. So talking about this and including it on my blog are as important as writing up a weekly running report or telling you about the latest race I took part in. The feelings of loss and great uncertainty are massive. Far more than I ever would have thought they would be. I don’t know how long my foot will take to heal, I don’t even know if what I’m doing is helping or improving my condition and I have no idea how long it will be before I can start running again, or even cycling.

I am still me. I know this but yet I have that feeling that something is missing. Every day, I feel that there is something I’m not doing, that I’m leaving something out, that I’m forgetting something.

I miss running. I miss cycling. And right now, I’m missing my training cycle for the upcoming Women’s Mini Marathon 10km and for all the summer races I’ve signed up for. I’m working on accepting that I may not be able to run any of these but there’s a lot of resistance and I’m not very good at this awl acceptance malarky.

Alas, I’m still trying to find my feet.

Breaking Down

Breaking down.

When things fall apart.

Losing my shit.

There were so many possible titles to this, it was hard to choose just one. Either way, it amounts to the same thing. Yesterday, I had a breakdown of sorts.

My intention is not to belittle or diminish in any way the experiences of those who suffer serious psychological or nervous breakdowns, or the gravity that such can have on people’s lives. I did not have such a breakdown.

But I did break down and I do feel broken.

Confession: I don’t like asking for help.

I’m a quiet person by nature. As a child, I was happy playing with my brothers and with my friends, but I was also happy to play on my own when no one was around – or even if they were. My friends have often described me as a good listener – more of a listener about their problems, their lives and what’s going on with them, rather than the one doing all the talking. I like being that person who is there for others and being someone others feel they can talk to about their stuff, but it also probably suits me because I’ve never been good at talking about myself or about what’s really going with me.

My Dad tells me I bottle stuff up.

I’m a lawyer. I deal with the problems in front of me, solve them and move on to the next one. I don’t believe in wasting time dwelling on things that cannot be changed – I like to be constructive and positively address situations. If you can’t do anything about something, then there’s no point spending time on it. Unfortunately, emotion & personal psychology don’t seem to work that way.

My Dad tells me I let things build up.

Self-pity pisses me off. It’s selfish, ungrateful and ultimately very destructive. But lately I feel like I’m drowning it and that pisses me off even more. I want to be better than that. I’m an optimist and being around so much negativity lately gets to me. Which is why I had a meltdown yesterday.

My Dad does not tell me to throw to shit around to make myself feel better.

I threw my bike pump, the foot pump AND my mini bike pump down the back garden yesterday.

A child. A spoiled, cranky, tired child would have had acted with more dignity and self-respect. I’ve been completely out of running action for 4 1/2 weeks with a suspected stress fracture in my foot so I’ve taken refuge on the bike in the meantime. I’ve since been in a constant state of consciousness about losing fitness, gaining weight, whether I should see a physiotherapist, whether I should see a chiropodist, whether I should have a bone scan or an MRI, whether I should be resting entirely or doing strength exercises, whether I should be doing anything? That’s one thing. Then there’s the whole life question – what happens when the whole career thing, the basket you placed all of your eggs in, doesn’t work out and you have to move back home to balance the books? When friends are suddenly all gone – moved to brighter, more exciting pastures? When you’re reaching a point in your life when you’re meant to have all your shit together and suddenly everything seems to be tearing apart at the seams?

I accidentally let all the air out of my front tyre.

And couldn’t re-inflate it.

My Dad is probably right. Wise man.

It was the straw and I broke.

I only wanted to go for a short spin on the bike, to get some fresh air, clear my head and stretch my legs. Front tyre was soft so I thought it would be a good idea to give it some juice. I accidentally knocked all the air out. I tried every which way to re-inflate the tyre but something was jamming the air flow and after 30 minutes of playing with bike pumps, tyres and tubes, I lost my shit, threw the bike pumps (though none of them are very good…), each in turn, all the way down the garden and I sat on the ground with my dog and had a good cry. Utterly embarrassing. Yet, sometimes a good cry with your very understanding dog is just what you need.

My problems are nothing compared to those of so many others around the world, which is why I hesitated to write this up on the blog. I am a very lucky person and I don’t know what it is to live a hard life. Getting outside your own head is something we all need to do and regularly. Being able to get outside your own head, however, is a difficult thing to do.

Later on, my Dad came home and I asked him to help me with the tyre, which, of, course, he was able to re-inflate.

Because sometimes, all you need is to ask for help.

Thanks for reading 🙂

 

Love for April

We are rapidly coming to the end of April and I thought it would be a good time to share with you lovely people what I’ve been loving this month.

1. Cycling. I’m resting completely from running since Paris (23 days ago, but who’s counting?) so have oodles more time to do other activities, mostly swimming and my bike. About 3 cycles a week, with a long one every Sunday morning and last weekend I did my longest ever bike over 93km (ish). I practically tipped over when I stopped the bike at the end. I love it but I need to work on it.

My bike! Not exactly T de F material but gets me round.

2. Weather. People often say that typical Irish weather is experiencing all 4 seasons in the one day. This is how nearly every day this month has been and while fun… is also insane. This morning, for example, was a clear blue sky and beautiful sun, which turned to cloudy and cool, to heavy hail, which could have been mistaken for snow. And I’m freezing now. I have no idea what to wear these days but I’m loving the brightness and longer evenings so I’ll forgive the forces of the universe for that!

3. Masterchef. I took a big break from Masterchef, having been a loyal fan since I was a kid but recently started back watching it and boy am I back! Love the current batch of wannabes and can’t wait for semi-finals week this week and the grand finale next week. Good luck all 🙂

4. Spring Marathon Season and One Day Cycling Classics. If you get up early enough on a Sunday to do your cycle, you can be back home in time to watch some of the big spring marathons, like London, happening right now. Re-fill your pot of coffee and settle into an afternoon of hardcore cycling to watch the toughest of the tough battle it out in France, Belgium, the Netherlands, etc. Honestly, I do NOT understand what Eurosport were thinking giving snooker priority last Sunday…..mmmm.

5. Downton Abbey Series 5 New Game of Thrones on a Sunday afternoon after my long cycle (temporarily replacing my long run while I’m resting my temperamental foot!). Toasted sandwich, bucket of coffee and Maggie Smith – relaxes me into another dimension.

Ha, I love this photo… George Clooney what are you doing in there?! The cheek!

6. Coffee and Scones. I go through food cycles and I’m not sure if this is normal or not. I’ll find something I like and eat it over and over again, possibly for years and then just move on to something else like it never happened. Don’t judge me. This appears boring – I know -but actually I just really know what I enjoy so I’m happy out.

This is my intro to scones. I ate scones up and down the wazoo from about 2003 – 2012 (not exclusively – I’m not that bad…) making my own, trying them from all different markets, shops, cafes… bit scone obsessed over here. One day, I just decided I didn’t want one any more. Think Forrest Gump when he just decides one day to stop running.

Then one fine spring day 4 years later, I heard the call again.

So I answered.

It’s good to be back.

As for Game of Thrones (or GOT for those who feel that spelling out and reading the whole words is just slowing them down and getting in their way of finding out what’s going to happen next…) I feel like it would be rude not to acknowledge it on my April list of things to love but it doesn’t quite get to have a spot just yet…

Two things.

Yes, I absolutely love Game of Thrones…

No, I have not yet watched, nor will not be watching the new series for a while.

I’m a hoarder so will do what I do best – hoard all the episodes and then watch them ALL in a characteristically 21st century series binge.

Pretty sure I’m committing at least 3 of the seven deadly right there. #doomed #WinterIsComingSoFuckIt

A Leaping Weekend

Happy leap year one and all! Less regular than Christmas (duh) so I’m making it an occasion to be celebrated. All about the small things, folks, so get on board my happy train and let’s get you leaping.

At a quick glance, my weekend looks incredibly boring quiet but actually it’s been a whirlwind of so many small things that when added up, amount to quite a busy few days. Some more significant than others but I digress – for some random weekend stuff, here’s what I’ve been up to:

Secret In Their Eyes remake. I popped along to the cinema on Friday night for my weekly movie fix and settled into an evening with Julia Roberts, Nicole Kidman and Chiwetel Ejiofor. I hadn’t seen the original Argentine version which won an Oscar in 2009 and knew nothing about it. Honestly, I prefer going to movies that I know nothing about. More surprise, more fun and no trailers telling me the ENTIRE story. Julia did not disappoint (does she ever) nor did her friends. This is an old school seriously good, but understated thriller that leaves you guessing right until the end. Not at all predictable. 9/10

14 Mile Medium-Long Run: My usual Friday medium-long run was a good un this week and I clocked in just over 2 hours, at 2.00.52, which I think is my best yet, in training. Totally unexpected and I ain’t complaining. Let there be more of that please!

Date with a 3 (nearly 4) year old. I had the pleasure of babysitting my godchild yesterday afternoon and we had some serious business to settle: party-planning. She will be four next week and as we all know, four is a very important age when you’re three. She’s allowing no room for messing this up. Catch, balloons and play-do were allowed only after the agenda was complete. #done

General Election Insanity. Oh Ireland, really? Really? REALLY? For a country with such a rich, vocal, involved political history, it baffles me – honestly truly baffles me how so many people in this country can get it so wrong. I sit here, cowering in dread at the prospective government to come. What’s that about Ted? #HolyGod

Sad to see him go. Scared of what just came in. Ugh.

Long Run Sunday. Got my 18 mile long run done Sunday morning (really more afternoon-ish but we’ll put that aside…) listening to the election results roll in, occasionally gesticulating wildly and loudly vocalising my opinions to what I thought was an otherwise empty road… Yeh, turned out the road was not always empty and to my shame, on more than one occasion, I had a cyclist just behind me who could not have avoided witnessing my craziness. Oh well, I may be crazy but I know I’m right – oh how Irish I really am! On the plus side, the run itself actually went quite well and I averaged out at 8.57 per mile. For a 4 hour Paris marathon, that’ll do. C’est bonne.

Asics Half-Zips. New gear! I’ve been hankering after some more half-zip tops as ever since I came across a Nike half-zip top on a sales rack last year, I’ve virtually been living in it. Warm, good fit and really good quality so it wears well and feels very nice. After about a year of internet and real shop browsing, I finally decided to buy an Asics Half-Zip top which was reduced from 50 euro to 25 (delivery included). As comfortable as the Nike, very good fit, good quality again, but a bit lighter. I liked it so much I got a second one 😉 Just to be sure. (prodirectrunning.com if you fancy a bargain…)

I went for “black heather” and…

…grey heather. Asics are apparently fond of heather.

Second Lunch on a Sunday. For once, this is not a gluttony issue. I long run on Sundays and usually have a solid sandwich (like chicken, cheese, avocado, salad) pretty soon afterwards. That’s all good but I have a babysitting gig on Sunday evenings that means I don’t get to have dinner until around 9.30pm, which results in too long a gap emerging between lunch and dinner. Hence, second lunch. More than happy to fill this gap, you understand but my problem at the moment is that I can’t decide what I want. I’m currently bouncing between a sandwich or a bowl of granola and yoghurt. I’d love some ideas, help!

Oh and one more thing.

Beyond excited when I saw this in Super Valu when I was doing some grocery shopping for Grandad on Friday. There may even have been an audible gasp and “wow” shape around my mouth for others to see.

I’m starting to wonder if I should not be allowed out in public unaccompanied. I am such a weirdo.

But at least I’m not a creep.