Forced To Stop!

My stomach rumbled with hunger pangs as I mindlessly stared at the TV awaiting my time to be called into surgery. An emergency had arisen with a child who had gone in as a priority and I was next on the list. I sat contemplating my running journey to this point. Having this operation would set back me back. I was bound to lose my fitness level and muscle strength resting through the recovery period and not being able to exercise. The Dr told me it would be approximately 2 wks off the track, maybe three. Saying I was not thrilled about the whole idea, was being very polite!

I was already missing a carnival I had trained three months for and I have a half marathon coming up in five weeks. So it was not good timing, but I suppose it never is. There is always something on the calender to be training for. So it was time to change my attitude and focus on getting healthy again ASAP.

Four hours later I awoke to the nurse calling my name and offering a cube of ice. Oooohhhhh my aching head…..what a feeling! My nose was blocked and felt twice the size and my mouth was so dry, my voice was absent. My throat felt like gravel from having tubes shoved down and my whole face felt swollen. And I had what felt like a bandaged tampon under my nose to catch all the bleeding – not a pretty sight.

However on the upside, my septum is no longer deviated, but straight. It will allow the air to no longer circumlocate through my nose, but to flow through with ease. Hopefully making breathing a lot easier by having two nostrils to suck air through, rather than one and a bit. Oh an added benefit may be improving my running by allow more airflow into my body. Fingers crossed on that one.

The first few days I was in pain and the pain killers took their toll on me. I was tired all the time and felt very woozy.  As the recovery days passed by and I began to breathe a little freer, I was like a caged lion raring to get outside and run. My coach bought around his exercise bike for me to use, but as soon as I pushed myself a little, I would get dizzy and my heart would race, so I canned that idea for a few days. I just had to suck it up and do as I was told, stop training! I’m not very good at that.

Also the emotional effects of not running were catching up with me. The runners high we all love had been stolen from me. I had no endorphins surging around my body and I was beginning to feel a little down. I knew I had to hold it together a little longer. It was hard taking my kids to training and watching everybody else run while I was car bound. I was being a sook and I knew it. This wasn’t a first world problem…….although to me it felt like it at that moment. Running is a passion for me and without it, life isn’t as fulfilling. As you can see, rationale wasn’t kicking in at any level at this point.

Friday, seven days after my operation, I was back lying on a hospital bed staring at the ceiling awaiting the Dr’s arrival. Today I was to find out how long until I could pump that pavement. The nurse painfully extracted the stents from my nose. Any wonder I couldn’t breathe, they were huge, as long and as wide as my index finger. Immediately after removal, I could breathe with painless ease. Wow, what a difference.

The Dr. entered and prattled on about how well the surgery went and what steps the procedure took. I did hear some words in there about how well it had healed. He must’ve seen the glaze over my eyes and asked if I had any questions. Before he finished his sentence, I blurted out, ‘How long until I can run again?’ I braced myself for the very same answer he had given me a week previous.  Lucky I was laying down as his response nearly floored me, ‘It all looks good, so wait until the end of weekend and Go For It.’ He proceeded to explain that I need to take it easy and there may be bleeding and if so I had to stop….blah blah blah. I wasn’t even listening, I didn’t care. I COULD run!! In two days, I could run again!

My excitement was evident as I exited the hospital and pranced back to my car, the ridiculous smile on my face was a dead giveaway. I could now focus on getting fit for my next adventure, but before I do that, I am going to enjoy my last two days of rest………Well maybe one, I might slip out the back door for a sneaky run tomorrow. I told you I’m not good at doing what I am told! Sssssshhhhhh don’t tell the Dr.

Battling the Mental Demons

Today is ‘that’ day, battling my Demons!  I have to admit, rarely do I engage in these Battle of Wills my mind creates, however today is certainly the exception. As a rule, I steer as far away as possible from this poisonous viewpoint. It is TOXIC!

I feel grateful to have grown up with an inbuilt belief system about my ability when it comes to sport. My parents were both athletic people who always engaged in sporting activity and for many years, my father reached elite levels in his field. So as a child, it was common practise and it seemed quite normal to be running around chasing a ball of any shape, a white line or even a black line. This was an essential part of growing up and occurred practically every day of the week (and twice on Sundays.) Sport was our religion.

I would always to jump in and ‘have a go’ and was often chosen for representative teams to compete at a higher level. I never took it all too seriously and had many fun bus trips away with my teammates. I had many talented coaches over the years and I learnt very quickly that if I wanted to be better, I had to work harder……….and so I did. My self-belief in the sporting arena grew and I adopted the belief ‘I know I can do it.’

So where did that belief go at 5am this morning at the track?? It was a 10 x 400m repeat speed session I had planned and from the onset, I was defeated! I was telling myself I couldn’t do it. Today I had to step my rep times up and I just knew I wasn’t ready to achieve them…….yet. Wow, why was I thinking this? Where did this come from? As I have been known to do far too often, I started to analyse everything – my nutrition, my sleep, my supplements, looking for a reason to justify the way I felt.

I started the first rep slow and built from there, with every lap getting harder and harder and I am supposed to be staying consistent and building towards the end. I am telling myself there is NO WAY I can do it. I was putting huge pressure on myself and feeling guilty at the same time for feeling like I was being slack.

Most of my training is in the dark, early in the morning and of late there has been rain to add to the pleasantries. It has been tough going, but winter is only three months long. Today it felt like it had been around for twelve months and it was never going to end. I thoroughly enjoy training by myself, but it is days like this it would be a warm welcome to have a running buddy for support and to keep spirits high. Speed sessions, hills reps and other forms of intense training are hardcore and so much easier to face with company. But to find someone who is running a similar pace and is available at ridiculous hours that I train is a rarity.

I hit my third last rep and it is tough. I am 3-4 secs slower than where I need to be. I know 3 – 4 secs doesn’t sound like much, but it is a lot to find when I my legs are dead and my mind is against me. How am I going to manage to belt out two more at a faster pace?

I turned my music up and took off for my second last rep and went as hard as I knew I could leaving some in the tank for the last one. Every step I was pushing and hurting but I kept going…….knowing I only had one more to go. I crossed the line and was excited to see I was within one second of my goal time. I was exhausted and drowning in lactic acid. I had a one minute recovery and sucking in air like a mad woman.

With the seconds ticking down I am running out of time to procrastinate and push off the start line. I am focussing on using my bigger, stronger muscles to get me there but they too were fatigued. Every muscle ached and all I could do was focus on one step at a time, the whole 400m was too overwhelming in one haul. The pain in my body was unbearable and I kept telling myself I was nearly there while the other voice was saying ‘it’s ok to stop’. The battle in my head was in full flight. With one foot in front of the other, I was not going to give up; I was going to finish this. And I did with a time my mind told me I couldn’t do.

Two days ago I ran 22km at an average pace of 4.48min/ km. It was the longest and hardest run I had done in a long while and what I hadn’t allowed myself to understand was the toll it had taken on my body. It was only when I completed the set, did I realise. Here I am beating myself up about not being able to achieve my desired times and my body is screaming at me!

It is a fine line between listening to what my body needs and beating myself up. I need to get better at reading the signs. The times I achieved today were faster than I should have with the big run under my belt and I should be proud of the efforts, but it is easier to focus on the latter. My body needs some nurture and recovery, not more mental punishment.

I didn’t need to miss my training session this morning, but I could have been a lot gentler with myself along the way. I typically have a strong mind that is intolerant of my weakness and in this circumstance; it could have been very detrimental. I am grateful to have a coach who can read me and helps me to understand what is happening when I can’t see it for the trees.

So note to self- ‘Listen to your body and what it needs. Sometimes it needs a swift kick in the ___ and other times it doesn’t.’ I seem to be good at the kicks and not so good at the being kind bit. Something for me to work on.