tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32316206778912544892023-11-16T06:08:44.723-08:00Getting out thereAdventures in Doing Things. Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.comBlogger145125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-32175874173428512622013-09-18T00:56:00.001-07:002013-09-18T00:56:37.776-07:00Endura Auckland Challenge race 1: WoodhillAfter my initial breathless commentary about getting into training for Huka, the weekend before last was a bit of a write-off. No real reason, other things were happening and driving for hours to Woodhill and back just couldn't be fitted in so the gym got a decent hit up instead. However, last weekend I made up for it with two rides at Woodhill, one with the Auckland MTB Club's Cranksistas group (awesome ladies) and one being my first event.<br />
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It's been a year since I entered a sporting event of any kind (almost to the week, the half marathon was at the start of September 2012) and I'd forgotten that jittery background of adrenaline that starts from when you wake up and keeps you going until the whistle. Driving up from south Auckland to Woodhill with decent weather, in various convoys of cars all with mountain bikes and stickers of various clubs and makes helped keep the jitters to the positive, motivating flavour rather than the "help-not-ready-eeek" variety. I have to say, driving up the steep "warm-up" hill at Woodhill past the punters to the event carpark was simultaneously gratifying and guilt-inducing, but ended up being the easiest bit of the whole day.<br />
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It was great to be at a start line with people I knew, even if I'd only met them the day before. The atmosphere was pretty relaxed, though there were a lot of superhero kids on carbon fibre 29" bikes that cost more than my car.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo not on its side, the bike is</td></tr>
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The race itself wasn't actually as hard as I thought it would be, though that leaves a LOT of room for bloody hard. The first part of the course, a track called Uplands, was a good way to spread the pack out (being mostly up as the name would suggest) and I soon found myself comfortably at the back of the pack, pootling along at a pretty reasonable, sustainable pace. Unfortunately, nerves and not paying enough attention saw me nearly stack it coming off a drop a couple of k's in, leaving an absolutely phenomenal bruise on my thigh and making me squeak as I missed a tree by bugger-all.<br />
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Riding the course the day before with the 'Sistas was a mixed blessing. It was good to know where on the course I was and not to lose hope on the really drudge parts, but also dispiriting to know that there was another drudge part coming. There's a steep hill at the end of a trail called "Slippery's Delight" which I ended up walking every time, and I'm determined to crack the bastard eventually! The second lap wasn't as hard as I thought it'd be (traditionally I've always hated any event involving seeing the finish line before finishing), though there was some points where I had to give myself a stern talking to about making more of an effort.<br />
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So, the goals:<br />
<ul>
<li>Finish</li>
<li>Finish in less than 2hr 30min</li>
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Both totally dusted, which was quite gratifying. Having completed longer distances down at the Taupo weekender with heaps of stops and chats etc. I wasn't 100% I'd be able to complete 22km in one go but despite one proper stop for a gel (delicious goo!) I did fine. Things to think about for the next one:<br />
<ul>
<li>I now have replacement clipless pedals after my original posharse ones disappeared, so they're going on the bike tonight before a ride out Friday afternoon. Hoping using SPDs will speed me up a bit on the hills</li>
<li>I'm too good at coasting on gentle inclines and flats. After the big hills and niggly bits it's too easy to just pedal on tracks that require less effort. I had to really focus on changing up a gear or two and pushing that little bit harder. Need to work on this, possibly start with some laps at Totara on Friday</li>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aftermath.</td></tr>
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Next event is the 2W Gravity Enduro down in Rotorua, which looks pretty different to a standard lap race and I'm pretty intrigued by. The holidays will be spent on the bike both here and away, I've a big long weekend of riding with the Cranksistas, then it's just a week (yikes!) to the Taniwha 60km. I'm still not convinced I'll be able to complete the full Huka, but I'd like to think I'm moving in the right direction. <br />
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One last thing that's on my mind about the weekend. I came last. Hard. A good seven minutes behind the second last. I didn't mind, I was happy to finish and finish strong, but I know I could have done better. Being slow was never a huge deal to me when I was running. After all, at least I was out there, right? I feel a bit different about this. I feel like I need to be faster and trying harder. I don't want to be last every time. It's nice to feel more driven this time, and to see something in the sport beyond the big event...Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-86715586951347521062013-09-01T01:06:00.000-07:002013-09-01T01:06:41.845-07:00The Huka Diaries*tap tap*<br />
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Is this thing still on?<br />
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Hello again, it's been a while.<br />
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Things happened. In particular, my knee happened. And my back happened. Specialists happened. The marathon didn't happen. In fact, quite a lot didn't happen for a while. It wasn't a good time.<br />
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<a href="https://fbcdn-sphotos-g-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/1175124_10151898503225127_696433205_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-g-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/1175124_10151898503225127_696433205_n.jpg" width="300" /></a>Thankfully, medical science has stabilised my back to the point where I can watch a movie without having to pause it while I get up and walk around to alleviate the pain, the doctor has given me a high chance of osteoarthritis in my knees unless I Do Something (thing not specified) and eventually demotivation brought on by the medical profession and chronic pain gave way to the grit-teeth fuckyouness of realising that my knees are like my tattoos. They might be shitty when I'm old but I may as well enjoy them know.<br />
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Which brings me back to the mountain bike. I have a new one, which fits and cost a not-tiny amount of money and gives me no end of joy. I also have a new ridiculous thing to aim for: the Huka Challenge. 85m off-road MTB event, held on the same day as the Taupo Cycle Challenge at the end of November. It's a bit terrifying.<br />
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And exhilarating. In terms of effort, the marathon pretty much compares I think. However, this feel <i>different. </i>My training schedule consists of daily workouts on the bike (road or spin), regular weights session at the gym and at least one weekend day out at Woodhill or one of the many other fine parks of the muddy and sweaty persuasion (which will increase as we get more daylight and I can go hit up Totara after work). Where running felt like a clockwatching exercise at times (the blog became a reason to run, I'd formulate posts on the long sessions), being out on the bike is a joy. Every time I go out I'm improving at something, every time I take on a track I manage an obstacle that I didn't before. It's a bit addictive. <br />
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On the 15th I have my first event, the first in the 20-25km Auckland Challenge series. There are three of those taking me up to a fortnight before Huka, as well as the 60km Taniwha in early November. The calendar is starting to fill up with weekends away and club rides (I actually joined a club this time) and my washing line is increasingly neon and containing funny-looking shorts. <br />
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With all this in mind it seemed right to reopen this blog of adventuring, just to keep tabs on the whole thing. At the moment I'm managing about 16-20km on long rides and I'm working on getting my cardio and lower body strength up (this weekend saw my legs go to jelly while the rest of me felt fine, which was a new experience!). MTB seems to have a bit less of the mystical waffle that surrounds marathon running, and at a recent training weekend the wizened cycle guru's sole advice was just "Ride more". Works for me....<br />
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<br />Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-41852624944385289502012-11-11T17:01:00.000-08:002012-11-11T17:01:21.426-08:00The Otago Rail TrailLast month my friend and I decided to get ourselves into gear and cycle the Otago Rail Trail. We'd been talking about it for ages and with work taking me down to the South Island it seemed like the perfect opportunity! <br />
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Thursday I arrived in Queenstown, a town that's outrageously beautiful and incredibly full of drunken backpackers. I'd asked around for a place to stay before catching the coach to the start of the trail early the next morning and had been told The Base was a good bet. The smell of toilet bleach as soon as I walked through the doors didn't seem to bear that out, so I dumped my gear and decided to find something to do for a few hours. Turns out there's nothing to do in Queenstown of an evening in the shoulder season that doesn't involve booze, so after a really nice dinner at the "locals" Indian restaurant (venison curry! Chocolate naan bread!) I retired to bed with a book about hiking in NZ and the last of the chocolate naan, and managed to get an early one.<br />
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This proved pretty useful as at 3am that morning I was woken up by the sound of water being poured out. Turns out it was the very drunken young man in the bunk across from mine pouring out his bladder. All over his bunk. Fifteen minutes later I'm woken up by him sitting on my bed shining his phone into my eyes, demanding to know what had happened to his bed and why was it all wet? After a short, less-than-polite response I hunkered down and tried to sleep in a bunk that smelled like an unwashed jockstrap while the poor confused and pee-stained idiot woke up everyone else in the dorn to try to find out why his bed was wet. An auspicious start.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The rail trail begins!</td></tr>
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Friday morning was made better by a bacon and egg roll the size of my head and a decent coffee as I waited for the coach. Despite weather warnings of the dire variety the weather was looking absolutely stunning as we pulled into Clyde where I'd meet my friend Fi and our rep from <a href="http://www.shebikeshebikes.co.nz/">Shebikeshebikes</a>, the company who'd put together our trip. Steve was very friendly and got us set up and ready to go on our incredibly comfortable bikes. <br />
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The first leg from Clyde to Chatto was glorious. Beautiful sunshine,
gentle countryside and only the occasional strong gust of wind (better
than the promised/threatened gale force winds and torrential rain). We started our coffee odyssey in the Chatto Creek Tavern, one of the local businesses that has blossomed with the trail and made us feel incredibly welcome and fed us delicious blue cod and chips. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nice, eh?</td></tr>
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<br />The second leg out towards Lauder saw some rain blow in as the incline cranked up. Full of cod and chips and coffee it made for slow going, but eventually we got through the rain cloud and that made the incline easier to deal with. The rain held off until we were just outside of Lauder, where we were spending the night, when the sky went from threatening to ominous to deluge. Thankfully, the <a href="http://www.lauderschool.co.nz/">Lauder School House</a> was absolutely wonderful, and we were ushered in to hot tea, biscuits and a good chat with the owner. The Lauder Tavern was closed for meals but the White Horse in Becks about 9km away was open and had a free taxi service! It turned out the White Horse was where I'd had lunch with my parents when they were visiting in 2011 for the RWC, and where I'd first got the idea to do the trail, so it was nice to return to it and have more delicious kai (you will not starve on the rail trail). After half a bottle of pinot gris and a steak sandwich we were in bed by half nine.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEdQL-7T-cfoNT7ZZM2jIqct95Zm46VEo0D26Ll7S4893npzjHr-ekIBIzIRFpgt5VNSkwOQG-kIz39xoEYHjFcoy6l1FavJh-fCC6usj62GfnFsd64W2azHWZOSl-0SDGpsxyF8RiI-u4/s1600/IMG_0782.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEdQL-7T-cfoNT7ZZM2jIqct95Zm46VEo0D26Ll7S4893npzjHr-ekIBIzIRFpgt5VNSkwOQG-kIz39xoEYHjFcoy6l1FavJh-fCC6usj62GfnFsd64W2azHWZOSl-0SDGpsxyF8RiI-u4/s320/IMG_0782.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The wonders of Edwardian engineering</td></tr>
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<br />Saturday morning we were up early and out into the very cold morning. A storm had blown through in the night and there was fresh snow on the hills, giving us a chance to use our thermals. As soon as we left Lauder we entered absolutely stunning countryside. Viaducts, tunnels, and soaring back country gave us the finest views of the trail.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirmkZJTcrfC9ufgZ-RAr9yRAHCbGBhKFDiNLVyIzxi6WSXlZJohgn0EIQczzRMSWeDI9phjEgEMZObRLmAyn0OmbQIyX54BSbbwBvzxPtseL1zRpd4RAnMTLZVlLqMq4b3Q9x4sjdVosC0/s1600/IMG_0788.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirmkZJTcrfC9ufgZ-RAr9yRAHCbGBhKFDiNLVyIzxi6WSXlZJohgn0EIQczzRMSWeDI9phjEgEMZObRLmAyn0OmbQIyX54BSbbwBvzxPtseL1zRpd4RAnMTLZVlLqMq4b3Q9x4sjdVosC0/s320/IMG_0788.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fine views, freezing fingers. </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXpwUf37SdeQbshCFeM3D8tTVbW3HnEUEcUu5D1vIbqWrXqHjlmjhUpGNgzrl8Ku_YgsYWIvTZR46J7wAAFXWTauS9X3RYxB8QktImKn74hdQBv1uAy5Y9aka7P0xndGj6FJSsR0BZiLJk/s1600/IMG_0794.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><br />Unfortunately, with wild country comes wildlife and the local magpies had decided that of all the cyclists on the trail I was the biggest threat to their nests. We got attacked a few times and I was actually hit twice (wear helmets, kids). We took to yelling and waving at magpies when we saw them swooping at us which must have made us look a bit hysterical to other trail users (not that there were many!). There were fewer as we dropped into the Ida Valley, a long, (false) flat stretch that led slowly towards Wedderburn and the highest point of the trail. It was a bit of a grind, though not as much as it must have been for the cyclists going the other way into a headwind. We stopped at the quirky <a href="http://www.historicplaces.org.nz/placestovisit/otagosouthland/hayesengineering.aspx">Hayes Engineering Works</a>, where they leisurely served us some delicious pumpkin soup and we got to have a poke about some old engineering sheds. From there, the tailwind helped get us up to Wedderburn and the top of the trail. We celebrated by the sign saying "It's all downhill from here!" with some giant jellybeans before heading on down to Waipiata and our second bed and breakfast. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXpwUf37SdeQbshCFeM3D8tTVbW3HnEUEcUu5D1vIbqWrXqHjlmjhUpGNgzrl8Ku_YgsYWIvTZR46J7wAAFXWTauS9X3RYxB8QktImKn74hdQBv1uAy5Y9aka7P0xndGj6FJSsR0BZiLJk/s1600/IMG_0794.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXpwUf37SdeQbshCFeM3D8tTVbW3HnEUEcUu5D1vIbqWrXqHjlmjhUpGNgzrl8Ku_YgsYWIvTZR46J7wAAFXWTauS9X3RYxB8QktImKn74hdQBv1uAy5Y9aka7P0xndGj6FJSsR0BZiLJk/s320/IMG_0794.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top of the trail, ma!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsAoRayJldFEEg58gsVUAMofOKUb1WVvFZgW_OEumiDwq8p9bdTR_nnkX3TmqGiHQlERomHMGo4e1QPnuERjqBs7gj_sxfyYv_D7wIIIUGM7OXafHU_ckMk_5RUoYbdcFqlXro1y0_QUH1/s1600/IMG_0797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsAoRayJldFEEg58gsVUAMofOKUb1WVvFZgW_OEumiDwq8p9bdTR_nnkX3TmqGiHQlERomHMGo4e1QPnuERjqBs7gj_sxfyYv_D7wIIIUGM7OXafHU_ckMk_5RUoYbdcFqlXro1y0_QUH1/s1600/IMG_0797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>We had had to contact the Waipiata Hotel two weeks before we arrived to book our dinner, something of a record as far as I'm concerned as far as booking food goes. Waipiata was the quintessential central Otago farming hamlet. Gravel roads, utes, and a frankly concerning sign painted on a farm building as we walked to the hotel. However, the food was delicious, cooked on a barbecue outside by the owner in almost Scottish weather as we enjoyed a good glass of wine and some pretty, uh, quirky service. We walked back to our B&B a bit tipsy to the sound of frogs looking for other frogs, something I've never heard anywhere else in the country.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haere mai!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKPz4O1Y3jWFIKb1m8PWoGaucSZiOKEGWsC0OrGEXvkKE5gWUwLxRP-Gc2K-abB0Z4wEz0dQwUghL0qt0RHePYalDuK-osyJPR_fVl-XF2Sgr0IEO7U-97OzUzb5gxgNhS94i3nNQAm4on/s1600/IMG_0800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>We had to be the end of the trail in Middlemarch by two so that Fi could get her bus so we decided to get up and away early. We had 53km to cover but thankfully it was all downhill in beautiful weather and we made short work of the run to Hyde and coffee, then on to Middlemarch. It was a brilliant end to a fantastic few days, and the town is set up brilliantly for people coming off the trail. We ended our trip with a great lunch (really, so much awesome food) a hot shower, and some great stories from Dave <a href="http://www.cyclesurgery.co.nz/Home">(Cycle Surgery)</a> on the journey to the Pukerangi train and Dunedin. <br />
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<br />It was a fantastic few days and at about 50km a day really not a challenging physical workout. I've been busy telling everyone to do it and if you live in NZ there's really no excuse for taking a few days out and visiting this absolutely stunning part of the south island. Shebikeshebikes were absolutely rad as well, organising everything flawlessly and even phoning ahead to Chatto Creek on the first day to check that we were OK after the weather warning. I'd highly recommend them if you're looking for someone to make the organisation easy!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Go. Just go. It's rad. Really.</td></tr>
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<br />Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-4538446233330243162012-11-10T22:12:00.000-08:002012-11-10T22:12:11.655-08:00Days and Memories(I'm hopped up on green tea with lime and feeling creative. Therefore blogging will happen. I REGRET NOTHING!)<br />
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So today my good friend and occasional writing collaborator @amiewee put forth the following question on twitter:<br />
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Good question. I had no idea. </div>
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Then she asked:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLGR02_UiRkfn61zPGSMclsSmrOWcM21xhpRGTLKrii_LOavSOq7_nkn5jYf0p6GiaK-Kk7gLKaHwyX5SjZGq2MXjvky_wXe1IsQr8mJivrqUR0NGUfNe9ELVGonB6XvG5DPpGPG_8pdAE/s1600/memory.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="73" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLGR02_UiRkfn61zPGSMclsSmrOWcM21xhpRGTLKrii_LOavSOq7_nkn5jYf0p6GiaK-Kk7gLKaHwyX5SjZGq2MXjvky_wXe1IsQr8mJivrqUR0NGUfNe9ELVGonB6XvG5DPpGPG_8pdAE/s400/memory.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Simple questions, yes? This was my first thought....<br />
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Why that one? I wrote about it<a href="http://eobe-nanowrimo.blogspot.co.nz/2008/11/november-1st-falling-out-of-planes-and.html"> in detail a few years ago</a> as part of an attempt to do NaNoWriMo but I guess the short version is that it was the first time I remember going from being a spectator to a participant. My parents hadn't done it (at least in my living memory). It was something that was Mine. It was the first time I realised that things like this were possible, within reach of mere mortals, even 16 year old ones. The fact <a href="http://eobe-nanowrimo.blogspot.co.nz/2008/11/november-2nd-falling-out-of-planes-and.html">I nearly killed myself</a> on my second jump just makes the lesson even more important I think. And man, was it fun to unearth some writing of mine from four years ago! I was preparing to move to NZ at that point. Interesting times. </div>
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But what else? I got thinking. Today's been one of those days that's invited lots of thinking. I've been productive, my room is clean and all the laundry is done. The rats are making a nest having been cleaned out, there's good tunes on the stereo, and the weekend has been full of happy times with good people. I've been alone today, but nothing approaching lonely. </div>
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So, what memories make themselves known immediately when I get asked this? </div>
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One that I think will stay with me forever is<a href="http://skinnydodger.blogspot.co.nz/2011/08/end-of-season-adjustment.html"> actually pretty recent</a>. It was the morning after my motorcycle had been stolen. I'd been out of hospital only a few days. I remember lying in bed, and distinctly thinking "you have two options here. You can spend the day in bed feeling really down and nobody would blame you for that. Or you can get up and keep going." I remember it feeling like a real <i>choice, </i>one that went further than just that morning. Now, whenever I feel a bit overwhelmed by things, I just remember how I felt lying in bed that day, leg in plaster, painkillers not working, and how I still managed to get the hell up and fix what I could. Gritted teeth and all. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCijtJ9_09WPqsgF5rz7prayXspFrZif9A4Uzwvfvicj00LzD7OcskI7IHXRxCE-toGcHXvuUCzsYsG0yi2ftHQQPzoIdfxLseUxY7uW1bUl_tN0nhJBuHNluJOpttJxzBwaQBiX1jrPiz/s320/IMG_0083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCijtJ9_09WPqsgF5rz7prayXspFrZif9A4Uzwvfvicj00LzD7OcskI7IHXRxCE-toGcHXvuUCzsYsG0yi2ftHQQPzoIdfxLseUxY7uW1bUl_tN0nhJBuHNluJOpttJxzBwaQBiX1jrPiz/s320/IMG_0083.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If I'd seen you nicking my bike bro, I'd have chased you. Cast or no.</td></tr>
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Standing on the roof of an abandoned office block in East London, NYE 2004/5, watching the sun rise on a new year and toasting the dawn with a can of lager with people I'd met only weeks or hours before (some of whom I count as close as family today) also sits at the top. I'd been in the city a few months, and that was the moment I knew I wasn't going to move back to Glasgow, that I could make it here. Eight months later I was training to be a teacher, something I'd probably never have thought of if I'd gone north. Again, a total game-changer (and a hilarious night all round. Were my little parochial eyes opened to life in the big city that day)<br />
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Watching the sea haar roll in and over a massive island in the arctic ocean before totally enveloping it, in the weird milky sunlight that you get at midnight in that part of the world. Feeling awed at this otherwordly sight and thinking suddenly that it is sights like this that produce myths and religions. I remember being completely entranced, standing on this beach watching this alien seascape disappear before an advancing, inexorable force. I was 13.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Too crazy to take photos, have a poster instead</td></tr>
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Standing front and centre for the gig Clutch played at the Kings Arms in 2010. I went with my oldest NZ friend and it was incredible. Intimate venue, absolutely packed with fans, music loud and intense and everything you want a gig to be. I had bruises on my hip bones from where the crowd had pummelled me into the stage. This was a gig like pop culture makes you imagine gigs should be like. No lesson really, just AWESOME NOISE.<br />
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Being woken up age tiny by my mum and dad in the middle of the night. I was bundled into a really warm jacket (my memory tells me it was furry) and taken outside, where the biggest aurora borealis was happening. I remember this huge curtain of red and gold like fire lighting up the sky like it was the end of the world, with green and blue flickers and jumps. Standing in the front doorway, looking out over a dark field and up to this hypnotic, terrifying and stunning display is one of my earliest memories and I am eternally grateful to my parents for thinking it was more important than sleep.<br />
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I was going to say that's my top 5 but it's six so you get one for free. They're maybe not the absolute happiest moments ever or the kind of days people say are their best memories, but they're the six that leapt out at me when I saw this so I guess they're the most important floating around in my brain right now.<br />
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I'd probably write about six different ones tomorrow.<br />
<br />Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-89632890689880308032012-11-10T20:10:00.002-08:002012-11-10T20:16:14.371-08:00Needing permissionYesterday was one of those days where I felt that summer wasn't just teasing- she was actually here. I woke up to glorious sunshine and the sound of the kids next door playing outside with a noisy exuberance that was perhaps not entirely welcome at half seven in the morning, but nevertheless was an incitement to get out of my nest and Go Do Something. After looking at both my noble two-wheeled beasts I plumped for a day on the trails at <a href="http://www.bikeparks.co.nz/">Woodhil</a>l, got my stuff together, and headed up the highway to the playground.<br />
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I recently bought some MTB clip-in pedals and shoes from the awesome <a href="http://wiggle.co.nz/">wiggle.co.nz</a>, and I was desperate to try them out. However, whilst I have a semi-decent toolkit (thanks, dad!) I lacked the leverage to get the old flat pedals off. In a moment of genius I decided to take them to Woodhill with me and get them swapped over at the pro shop there.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's like a gym and a nature trail and a playground in one!</td></tr>
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I've been steadily accumulating bits and bobs for cycling since I recently rediscovered the joys of throwing a bike round a forest, and turned up with my shiny new shoes, a Camelbak, and iPod on one of those armbands that makes you feel half cyborg badass, half poseur who belongs on a crosstrainer at Les Mills. However, my bike is ten years old and has been, well, neglected is a kind way to put it, having been used variously as a commuter vehicle (London, once ending up under a car), a scourge of cycle tracks (Glasgow), an occasional off-road beastie (everywhere), and room/garage/outside ornament (also everywhere). I can do basic maintenance things to it but intermittent use and my epic levels of procrastination (hello, facebook and tumblr!) mean that it's a bit munted. As I wheeled it towards the pro-shop I got a hit of social awkwardness. Would I look like a prat for getting new clip-in pedals put on an outdated contraption that I've been riding my entire adult life? Would they look at my new shoes and "rehydration system" and think I was the worst kind of track-blocking waster?<br />
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And this is the crux of my post. That paralysing feeling that you somehow need permission to do something, especially something active. That unless you are a world champion you're not allowed to take part. That if you have new gear you're posing and if your gear is crap you're not taking it seriously. That you're too fat to wear workout gear, too old to skate. Whatever.<br />
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Like running, I'm slow on the mountain bike. I pull over for people behind me. I'm cautious on the downhills (though with every sortie into the woods I improve my skills and my speed) and my knee means I take it easy on the uphills. I wear cycling gear I pick up from the Warehouse or clearance sales. I'm new to the sport and it's like learning to ride a bike all over again a lot of the time. I see the "cool kids" with their disc brakes and their carbon shocks and feel a bit intimidated. What happens in the playground comes back to haunt you in adultland sometimes.<br />
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I guess that's where my experiences in roller derby have been so valuable. I felt that fear, that lack of "permission" to be there when I first started out. I felt it doubly so when, on my second ever practice, I got a bollocking by the coach for not being able to do one of the falls properly. If it hadn't been for some of the other skaters there who talked to me, made me feel like I DID have permission to be there, I probably would never have gone back. It was that feeling of inclusiveness and support from pretty much everyone there that kept me going back and made me determined to do well.<br />
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It was a lesson I remembered when I started coaching. Give people permission to be there. Be friendly, don't judge them for coming with a complete set of new gear bought online before even setting foot on the track, or for coming in skates bought when disco was in, or for coming with nothing. It doesn't matter. Elitism just strangles the enthusiasm that every sport or activity needs to keep going.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">COVERED IN FARKLES. </td></tr>
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I remembered all that as I asked for some help getting the pedals swapped over. The guy who helped me out clearly didn't give a stuff about how old my bike was, or that I was wearing a Kathmandu jersey and pink gloves. He just seemed happy to help out someone as keen on throwing themselves about the woods as he was. As ever, that feeling permission is needed came not from the experts, but from myself.<br />
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Of course, the bike suffered a major mechanical fail on the trails which means I might have to look at buying a new bike anyway, but that's beside the point. Don't feel you need to be brilliant at something just to start doing it. Don't feel like you need permission from the elite to enter their territory. Be honest about your skill level and confidence and you're only going to improve. Which you won't if you sit and wait for permission from people who in reality are just stoked to have you take an interest in their sport to begin with.Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-60059937693664930042012-11-08T13:58:00.000-08:002012-11-08T13:58:04.238-08:00ONWARDS!So my last post (and the first post in ages) was pretty dark. I don't apologise for that. Waking up to a sunny day and feeling pretty low about a life's ambition culminating in sweet bugger-all will lead to the kind of blogging usually done whilst listening to Mogwai and smoking endless cigarettes in a dingy basement.<br />
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However, I am never one to let the moodiness of one day affect another. Monday the 29th dawned with sunshine, work and the realisation that whilst I might not have run the Auckland marathon last weekend, neither did a lot of people and they managed this news just fine.<br />
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Not being able to run far and getting a diagnosis of Munted Kneecap (not a medical term) has given me a chance to do a bit of a damage inventory, and figure out where I'm going from here. The inventory is pretty long, and rather painful.<br />
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<li>Right knee. Munted.</li>
<li>Left shoulder. Munted (have spent my entire adult life sleeping on my left side with my shoulder thrown forward. Apparently it's not built to withstand that)</li>
<li>Lower back. Slightly munted (prolapsed disc from poor form doing a deadlift in 2009)</li>
<li>Left ankle. Still not full range of motion, and are scars still supposed to <i>hurt </i>after this long?</li>
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So, where to start? What's the next goal? After years of signing up to races, events, sports etc. I decided to change gear slightly. I want to Not Hurt. I want the injuries to heal, to build up the muscle and tendon that will help hold everything in place and let me do what I want without worrying about this giving way or that stopping me from sleeping at night.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Toy store/bedroom</td></tr>
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It's a different way of looking at my body. One where I'm working with it, not in spite of it. Getting back to the body as an ergonomic tool, rather than something to be tortured and pushed.<br />
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So with that in mind, I joined a new gym in town. One where rugby players train and there's loads of classes on all the time (it even has a pool!). I'm going to yoga 2-3 times a week, spin classes, pilates and weights classes. I've signed up with a PT to put together a recovery program. My new (to me) road bike is making me happy, as is my very old mountain bike. I've thrown my scales away. I go out with friends instead of a run and don't feel guilty. It's all a bit new and weird and really quite good. <br />
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Onwards.<br />
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Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-47385251642838480392012-10-27T21:11:00.002-07:002012-10-27T21:11:46.156-07:00Marathon day.Today, 28th October, was the day I was meant to have completed the Auckland marathon. Instead, I've spent the day feeling utterly wretched. No Saucony trainers have been laced up, no 4am ferry to Devonport caught, nothing. Instead, I read Aldous Huxley's <i>Brave New World. </i>I drank some coffee. I felt a bit lost. No finishers medal will adorn my wall.<br />
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The trouble all began back in June. Actually, scratch that. It began back in 1998, when my right kneecap dislocated during a game of lasertag. And again in 2001, stepping over a low bench in a night club. In 2008, reaching for the final hold on a climbing wall problem I'd been trying to complete for a few weeks. And finally, in June 2012, when it <a href="http://skinnydodger.blogspot.co.nz/2012/06/18-weeks-to-go.html">popped out of its track </a> doing a turnaround toe stop. I wrote at the time that normal walking and running were fine. That wasn't strictly true.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the final k of the Whangamata half marathon, 1/9/12.</td></tr>
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I made the error of thinking that by seeing a physio a couple of times and resting it a bit that it'd be fine. What I didn't bank on was, as the kilometres increased, the knee would become more swollen and painful. I bought Voltaren and ice packs thinking that if I treated the symptoms the cause would also go away. I prescribed to the "she'll be right" attitude of injury management until I couldn't ignore the grinding I (and others) could feel when I straightened and bent my knee, the "give" of the patella after 18k or so, the near-inability to drive home after my half-marathon in Whangamata (at least I can say I completed one of those). With just under two months to go to the marathon and my excuses not to make my runs wearing thin (no, it's nothing serious, just work/friend's birthday/neighbour's cat's funeral) I realised that attempting to run more than a half marathon distance could be Very Bad and bit the bullet.<br />
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The doctor was concerned. She agreed that knees don't do what my knee was doing. I was sent for X-rays. And an ultrasound. Then more x-rays (to discount a possible fracture of the kneecap). Then an MRI. An orthopaedic specialist. Surgery was mooted.<br />
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I went from the 28th of October being my D-Day, my focus, to having nothing. A kind of medical limbo. I cycled. I swam. I waited for appointments. I didn't run. I felt out of control, helpless. I felt angry with myself for going to the doctor at all (it would be fine if I just carried on!), and angry for not going sooner. I felt like those times when the marathon seemed to hard had come back to bite me harder than I felt I deserved. The feeling of letting people down and some other, totally unrelated things in my personal life tipped me into a pretty dark place for a while. If I'm honest, I'm not out of it yet.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">right knee, skyline view. </td></tr>
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Five days before I should have been lining up in Devonport, the specialist came back with the diagnosis. Fissuring of the cartilage under the kneecap. No surgery needed immediately (thank god) but I may need some to loosen the tendons on one side of the patella in the future. Rock climbing was off the "things to do on a weekend" menu. Cycling and swimming were on. Gentle jogging was acceptable. I didn't ask about distance, I don't think I wanted to know.<br />
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I'd managed to get my head around not doing the marathon before today. I've moved house, joined a new gym, got a road bike and started cycling to work (a round trip of 42km, amusingly). I've got a new job starting next year. It's been a sunny weekend.<br />
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Today though, today's floored me. Waking up this morning to a beautiful sunny day, knee actually <i>aching </i>(which it does nearly all the time), well, it's not been easy.<br />
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I feel like my body's failing on all fronts. My lower back still hurts from popping a disc in 2009 (weightlifting, as you do), so I quit weightlifting in case I hurt myself again. My ankle still doesn't have full range of motion from the accident, and I quit skating. Now I'm told I can't rock climb, and have to carefully consider things like hiking as descents can cause permanent damage. I don't know what to do next.<br />
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So yeah, that's what happened. This blog seems to have had it's fair share of triumphs and failures and I leave this update feeling very lost. I don't know what to do next, if in fact I should set myself any sort of physical challenge as I just seem to injure myself out of them.<br />
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Thanks for all the encouragement, aroha and support both on this blog and IRL. Thanks to those who donated money to the Red Cross. I'm sorry I couldn't see it through.Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-12543180738020784212012-08-26T03:41:00.001-07:002012-11-10T20:33:51.939-08:00Neil and Lance and lessons from bothI started putting this post together about halfway through today's long run, which took in the first part of the marathon course and a meander around Auckland's north shore. A fantastic weekend had been marred by the news that the <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/science/2012/aug/25/neil-armstrong-man-moon-dies">first man to walk on the moon, Neil Armstrong, had passed away at the age of 82</a>, and I was feeling contemplative as I slowly negotiated the streets of Milford.<br />
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If one is feeling reductionist about things, an 82 year old man has died. This sort of thing happens all the time. He lived a good life by all accounts, was a well-respected academic and administrator in the post-Apollo years, a father and a husband. But for the 29th of July 1969, his death would be sad but not unsurprising, he would be mourned by those who loved him and that would be that.<br />
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But he was not just an 82 year old man. He was much, much more than that. With his passing we have lost a man who did one of the truly great Firsts of earth's history. We may not know who the first creature to use fire was, or who rode a horse for the first time, or used language. But until today we shared a world with the very first human, the very first creature of our world's billions of years of evolution and change, to set foot on a celestial body that was not this one. And that is a loss that is immeasurable. There may be others who are the first to step on Mars, or Europa, or further afield, but he was the Very First. And now he is gone.<br />
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As is so often the case in our culture, there's already a backlash (to a man dying. Christ on a trampoline).<br />
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"Oh, he was just the one that landed, thousands of people got him there"<br />
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"They never landed anyway"<br />
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"Macho white imperialist bullshit. They could have spent that money on famine/ending war/me"<br />
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Is it weird of me to find this thinking actually upsetting on some level? I'm sad that people are so closed-minded, so lost to something larger, that they can't grasp what this stood for. Not just the first American. Not just the first white guy. Not just the first man. Not just the first human. But the first anything from this entire planet. From all the things that are, or ever were. The first to step off this tiny little marble to somewhere else.<br />
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Yes, he didn't get there alone. But his name will be one that carried their, and our, collective accomplishment into the future. A humble man who loved flying, who never cashed in on the incredible thing he had done. His is the name that will be remembered in a thousand years from our time. As Neil DeGrasse Tyson said on twitter today:<br />
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Would the money spent on getting him there have been spent on famine? Or ending war? No. Would it have ended either? Also no. The US spends <a href="http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/badastronomy/2010/02/16/wait-how-big-is-nasas-budget-again/">more on pet food every year</a> than they do on NASA. It's comforting to think that, regardless of the motives of the top brass, money was thrown into something that changed everything in a positive way for once. </div>
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And if you don't think we actually went to the moon then get the hell off my blog. </div>
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What has this got to do with running? Nothing, on the surface. The man himself infamously quipped that</div>
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"<i>We all have a finite number of heartbeats, and I don't intend on wasting any running up and down the street"</i></div>
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However, wasting heartbeats or not, I felt extra motivation today. I felt that by striving to move myself forward, to do something more with myself than just what is easy, to do something positive, I was trying to emulate one of my few real heroes. Will this endeavour that I'm putting myself through change anyone but me? I highly doubt it. But it is a desire to be something more than I am which is, I feel, something that all of us should be aiming for in some way. Something that was until today embodied by Neil Armstrong. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For all mankind.</td></tr>
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However, epochal as this news was, it was not the only thing that had my attention as I considered the relative merits of a jambag at 12k or holding off to 14. Another Armstrong had been in the news for a more insignificant though still interesting reason. Lance Armstrong, seven time Tour de France winner and all-round cycling Titan, had <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/sport/blog/2012/aug/24/how-lance-armstrong-strongarmed-cycling">decided not to contest charges of blood-doping brought against him by the US Anti-Doping Agency (USADA). </a> In doing so, he has all but admitted to taking performance enhancing drugs and cycling's governing body (the UCI) agrees with USADA, he will be handed a <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/sport/2012/aug/24/lance-armstrong-stripped-tour-de-france">lifetime ban from the sport and stripped of his titles.</a> The reaction to this news in the sporting world has been huge. Most pundits have condemned Armstrong and his actions, with support being seen as a patriotic duty by some rather than a considered stance. </div>
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I've always held a rather ambivalent view about drug use in sport. It always seemed like an interesting thing to single out when athletes do so many weird and wonderful things to their bodies in order to excel. Hyperbaric chambers, creatine, branch chain amino acids, all fine. But a drug that boosts the amount of red blood cells (effectively a pharmaceutical oxygen tent or high-altitude training camp)? Worth a ban and losing your titles. I don't want to talk about this <i>ad infinitum </i>but I can highly recommend the attached documentary <i>Bigger Stronger Faster </i>which mainly focuses on steroid use but has a few interesting points to make, even if I don't agree with all of them. </div>
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What got me about this story (and what it has to do with my marathon) is what people will do in the pursuit of their goals. If Neil was the embodiment of the positive trait of striving to be more than we are, what does that make Lance?<br />
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It's a relevant story to me as I have been grappling recently with the desire to shed some weight to make running easier on myself versus the need to not obsess over what I eat and potentially lapse into some disordered eating patterns that have plagued my adult life. Since losing weight I have become very twitchy about food (I have talked about this elsewhere on here) and to be in a situation where everything I read talks about the importance of a 100% balanced, weighed, portioned-out diet 100% of the time has made it very difficult to relax about what I eat. The guilt has made training this week especially very difficult and I've found myself becoming resentful, even petulant, at the self-imposed demands made on my life by this race.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How much of yourself can you sacrifice for the goals you set yourself?</td></tr>
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Lance's story brought me up short. Here's a man who, one imagines, could have won all those titles regardless of EPO or steroids or whatever. Anyone driven enough to recover from metastatic cancer to be able to compete again would, one imagines, be able to win clean. But in a sport where<a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2012/aug/26/cycling-clean-up"> 86% of the TdF winners have been accused of drug use,</a> how do you fight that temptation? Everyone has their limits on what they are willing to do to reach their goals. Some people give up their favourite foods. Some sleep in oxygen tents. Some people take drugs. What was I willing to do for my goals? Was I willing to sacrifice my mental well-being, my health, for this goal I have set myself? Was a self-imposed time limit on finishing the marathon worth months of denial, of guilt when I caved in to temptations that others thought nothing of? What was I willing to do?<br />
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And so, as I made my final descent back into Devonport, face contorted from exhaustion and tiredness (I've never come so close to crying on a run as I did today) I decided something. No final time is worth making sacrifices that I'm not comfortable making, that don't sit well with me as a person. I'll strive and I'll keep going and it'll hurt but I'm drawing the line right here on what I will and won't do for this. That I'll finish the marathon is a given. Everything else is an extra. Striving for the best in me without unleashing the worst.<br />
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I like to think Neil would approve.Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-34016481125046311682012-08-22T04:58:00.002-07:002012-08-22T04:58:54.947-07:00....meanwhile, in trainingFirst off, holy shit that was a lot of interest in my last post! Nearly 2000 views of my post e<a href="http://skinnydodger.blogspot.co.nz/2012/08/what-hell-were-they-thinking.html">xplaining why Hell Pizza are bad citizens</a>. That's a lot of angry pizza-eaters. Thanks to everyone who read, commented, discussed, and ultimately got <a href="http://www.wellingtonrapecrisis.org.nz/">Wellington Rape Crisis</a> enough funding to stay open five (five!) days a week. If only we could have these essential services WITHOUT having to have the public outcry first (OK, imagine a world where we didn't need rape crisis centres. Much better)<div>
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Back in the world of the marathon, things are.....progressing. I guess. I had a rebellious weekend where instead of a two hour run on Sunday I lay in bed with the curtains drawn and cursed whoever invented pinot gris, and was still feeling a bit crap yesterday. Today the sun was shining and spring had most definitely arrived on the porch so I decided to go for a 10k or so to blow the cobwebs out. Of course, good weather and a slight feeling of guilt meant that I overdid it a little and ended up running nearly 15k, before my body decided that a packet of ramen noodles and a cup-a-soup was inadequate for the demand placed upon it, energy gels be damned. </div>
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Speaking of delicious "jam in a bag" nutritional options, I discovered my local supermarket sells Horleys' jambags at $13 for 5. The raspberry ones taste pretty un-raspberry-like but aren't too bad when washed down with some NUUN and water, and they do the job, so I think I'll stick with them for the time being. It occurred to me today (nomming a gel every 5 or so k) that having a gel when running is as close to the effect you see spinach having on Popeye as a real human is likely to get. I had definitely not eaten nearly enough for a 15k run today but having the gel made the legs feel less fatigued, the muscles less sore and almost put a spring in my otherwise weary step. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's not a cigar, that's some Chocolate Outrage</td></tr>
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I'm getting better at the whole nutrition thing but still haven't quite nailed it. With just over two months to go it's time to really dig in and get all those cliches about giving it everything and aiming high that us runners bloody LOVE. I have to say, though, that part of me is feeling a bit rebellious. I've been training for this bloody thing for nearly four months now, and I find myself feeling almost resentful at times. Hangovers are bad enough without a feeling of guilt that I should be hitting the pavement. A hard day at work is only compounded by the dilemma of a) going for a run when making some toast feels like a big ask or b) making toast instead and sitting looking at Tumblr feeling like the unfittest, biggest marathon loser in the world for not running. Ugh. It makes me reconsider my idea of the Half Ironman next year. Is this <i>really </i>how I want my life to be? Further weekends of wine denial so I can plod my way round yet another course? Endurance events are very much a lifestyle choice and I guess I don't know if I'm, I dunno, good enough? Too slow and self-conscious for the running clubs, I don't feel like I've made the friends and connections that I had sort-of-hoped I would through running. Social awkwardness is magnified when you're wearing running tights and jiggling. </div>
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Still, I'm getting towards that marathon finish line. Slowly, so slowly, but I'm getting there. First ever half marathon in just over a week, and I'm feeling pretty psyched about it. I'm enjoying the feeling of being able to run 10k, not as an "OMG LONG RUN HOLY SHIT" but as a fairly generic shorter gig. I'm enjoying the realisation that I can absolutely do this. I'm also enjoying planning what wine I'm going to buy for the first weekend of November. </div>
Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-46469635225794528512012-08-15T04:14:00.002-07:002012-08-15T04:25:30.095-07:00What the Hell were they thinking?I'm not going to sleep well tonight. I don't after things like this. Tomorrow I'll be scritchy and grumpy and snap at the students and hide at the back of the staffroom with a book or something so I don't have to make small talk. I'll be like this because I'm upset. I'm upset and I'm angry.<br />
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I'm angry because I live in a world where fast food companies believe that rape sells pizzas.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Don't read of you are easily offended" Or, y'know, against raping people. </td></tr>
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I'm angry that I live in a world where people think that not only is rape and sexual assault OK, it's actually <i>marketable. </i>That people who are dithering over which fast food choice to make of an evening might be swayed <i>towards </i>a company that rewards accounts of sexual violence. I live in a world where people who can drive, vote, be parents, teach kids, not just defend this marketing but <i>don't think there's an issue in the first place. </i>Apparently putting a mask on and sticking your genitals in the mouth of a complete stranger isn't rape, it's FUNNY. HAHAHAHAHA. FUNNY. </div>
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WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH YOU PEOPLE. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not pictured: misanthropy</td></tr>
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It brings out all kinds of horrific feelings in me. the people all posting their "LOLS" and "SHOT BRO" high-five bullshit could be the people who drive the night bus. They might be the guy working the late shift at a bar. They might be the driver of your taxi. To quote Fight Club "We guard you while you sleep". </div>
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How safe is that meant to make me, a denizen of this country, feel? That maybe the bouncer at the club where I saw that girl blind drunk isn't going to put her in a cab, because he thinks rape isn't a problem? Maybe the teenager I teach is going to have something hideous done to her by a person known to her who thinks she just needs to lighten up? Maybe some dude is going to wake up, a bit drunk, a bit disorientated, to find himself being violated by a masked assailant and then read an account of his being violated on facebook, along with hundreds of comments applauding your assailant's actions? </div>
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What's almost as bad as the original post was Hell Pizza's response. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6Hl_xHmaHsodHkAjkREnxsA7WxHPs3hbeCM-k-YLtWVh0TanWzGCAjTGq9MMoxvV_4FnHqrPv4CJ-LXUo5KsapGnUG6pM4UjJx3clzM2JOeE5WS0zh41jWRpibMNTXbnuawy7R0JpeMP/s1600/Capture.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6Hl_xHmaHsodHkAjkREnxsA7WxHPs3hbeCM-k-YLtWVh0TanWzGCAjTGq9MMoxvV_4FnHqrPv4CJ-LXUo5KsapGnUG6pM4UjJx3clzM2JOeE5WS0zh41jWRpibMNTXbnuawy7R0JpeMP/s640/Capture.PNG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Not "We are very sorry. We were wrong". They apologise to "those offended". "They saw the bad light the post could be taken in."</div>
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WELL THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR CARING, YOU PATRONISING BASTARDS.<br />
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Apparently, being a masked rapist is offensive depending on the light quality! It can be seen as a prank, y'know, between friends! Shit, I bet this stuff happens all the time!<br />
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"Hey bro, you remember that time you were asleep and I, like, totally raped you?"<br />
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"Shit yeah dude, you really violated me! In front of a crowd of people! Fuckin' A!"<br />
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Because that is what friends do, apparently. They rape each other. For the lulz.<br />
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Now, clearly I am doing friendship wrong. When I went to friend upset about the assault I went through, I should have asked to be orally violated! Would have cheered me right up. When, late at night, talk has turned to the outrages we've suffered at the hands of others, and tears have been shed and glasses drained, what we <i>should </i>have done is commit an act of sexual indecency on someone! Silly me!<br />
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So, people, here's the thing. If you think hearing about someone being raped is funny, then you're an apologist for rape. That means you think rape is acceptable. To do so means you side with the rapist, not the victim. There's no "lighten up" on this one. If you work in a company that uses tactics like this to sell your wares, you are implying that you think your customers are rape apologisers, or worse. That's not a matter of a dodgy lightbulb, that's you using rape. To sell pizza.<br />
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Go to hell.Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-67556211032178868612012-08-12T03:46:00.000-07:002012-08-12T03:46:12.107-07:00Sickness and seminars.I'm waiting for the men's marathon to start, which is the final event in the 2012 Olympics. I don't know about you, but I've absolutely loved the games and found them pretty inspiring. Further down the athletic pecking order, I've had a busy if inconsistent couple of weeks since my awesome ten mile run at the end of July, so I'm just going to put up some bullet points and maybe return to a few of these later...<br />
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<ul>
<li>I smashed another PB today and popped my 20km cherry. I ran part of the Auckland marathon course in reverse (St. Heliers to the Viaduct and back). I had a brilliant time and was making a steady pace until the last 3km, where I bonked/hit the wall. The last 3km were absolute torture, I was still running but so, so slow. Finished at my car 2 hours 39 minutes after I left it and waded into the sea to cool my feet and legs. Memo to self: take more gels. </li>
<li>On that note, GU's "Chocolate Outrage" is both hilariously named and delicious (and has caffeine in it!) Also used NUUN's lemon/lime tablets in my new water belt to keep me hydrated, which worked a treat. Bought some Horley's raspberry gels at the supermarket this evening so we'll see how they go next week. I'm experimenting with different gels to see what I want to use on race day. </li>
<li>I'm also starting to use a <a href="http://nathansports.com/our-products/hydrationnutrition/raceelite-series/elite-1">Nathan water belt</a> for longer runs. It initially felt very odd having what is <ul><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://nathansports.com/files/imagecache/product_full_photo/files/prod_photos/Nathan_Elite1_4485NGY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="282" src="http://nathansports.com/files/imagecache/product_full_photo/files/prod_photos/Nathan_Elite1_4485NGY.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">I stopped feeling like a poser with this after the first 5k.</td></tr>
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essentially a posh bumbag bouncing around when I was running, but I got used to it very quickly. The design is excellent and it was nice having another little pocket to store things!</li>
<li>Speaking of buying things, my new Shock Absorber bras are AMAZING (despite having to send one back due to a defect). Boobs feel supported and even after a long run there's no discomfort. Full review once I've worn them in a bit more.</li>
<li>Had some great runs the week after my ten miler but fell sick with some child-vectored leurgy on Friday afternoon (yay timing!) and spent almost the entire weekend in bed watching well people be athletic. Had planned to run my 20k then so a week's delay isn't so bad. Was kind to myself and took over a week off running to recover. I have a nasty tendency to pick up chest infections from colds (I'm a whopping cough baby) so wanted to avoid that if at all possible. </li>
<li>My gym offers a free 30 minute massage every month (which I pay to turn into an hour). The new masseuse is, erm, interesting. Let's just say it's hard to feel positive about your body when an extremely thin Asian woman is grabbing the fat on your inside thigh and jiggling it. </li>
<li>It looks like third time's the charm for my running shoes, as the Mizuno Wave Inspires have left me blisterless and as pain free as my feet are likely to get after nearly three hours of running. Such a relief.</li>
<li>The NZ website <a href="http://www.runningplus.co.nz/">Running Plus</a> has contacted me about reviewing some equipment for them, which is very exciting. Not really able to talk too much about it at this stage but it's a fantastic opportunity! In the meantime please check out their page and <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Running.Plus">like them on facebook</a> if that's your thing. </li>
<li>I attended two marathon-related seminars within the space of about a week. One by <a href="http://www.matlewishamperformance.co.nz/Mat_Lewisham_Performance/Welcome.html">Mat Lewisham</a> on preparing a good training program for the marathon, one by <a href="http://bodyneed.co.nz/our-services/sports-nutrition-ponsonby/nutrition-workshop">Tracey Wheeler</a> on nutrition for endurance athletes. Both offered some useful bits of information and Mat especially did a good job of answering my questions about my training and it was very comforting to hear that I am exactly where I should be on this journey and what I need to tweak about my program to help prevent overtraining. There'll be a separate post about these seminars sometime this week. </li>
<li>The marathon is 11 weeks away, and in just under three weeks' time I'll be lining up for my <a href="http://whangamatarunwalk.co.nz/">first half marathon in Whangamata.</a> Hard to believe that six months ago I was having surgery on my ankle to remove the plate and pins, and a year ago (almost to the day!) since I had my accident. To be well on my way to achieving a life's ambition after these setbacks is very exciting. </li>
<li>Speaking of ambition, I'm considering life post-marathon. I don't want to go through all this training, push this hard and get this fit just to fritter it away after the final k. I like my fitness being such an integral part of my schedule, and I like the feeling of working towards a challenge. I am considering entering the <a href="http://www.aucklandhalf.co.nz/">Auckland Half Ironman</a>, held on the 16th March. Obviously this is dependend on lots of different variables but I'm keen to have something to train for after the 28th October and I do enjoy my multisport to we'll see. Watch this space!</li>
</ul>Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-56156422869952725042012-07-28T05:05:00.001-07:002012-07-29T01:46:05.896-07:00Breaking the ten mile barrierIt's nearly midnight on a Saturday night and I'm typing this whilst wearing a head torch because the lights blew in my flat this evening but I am so incredibly stoked about today that an update needed to be written. Today my mind triumphed over my matter and I completed the oldest road race in Auckland, the Glen Eden 10 Miler. Not only did I complete it, I loved every second of it.<br />
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Last night I'd resisted the temptation to stay out late with all my awesome friends and get a bit drunk on free cocktails (willpower, I didn't know I had it) and go home early in anticipation for this event. This led me to feel a bit crap about the whole endeavour. The marathon is now three months away (exactly, at least for another half hour anyway) and it's causing me to pike on fun social things. The distance and supplied map (with frankly TERRIFYING height graph) left me feeling out of my depth in terms of being able to complete, and the fact they anticipated everyone finishing within 1:45 made me feel like I was punching WAY above my weight with this one. This wasn't a "Fit is fun! All fitnesses catered for!" event. This was a "You must be this fit or higher to enter" and I felt like I'd been caught out standing on a book. It was with a sense of extreme trepidation that I drove out to Glen Eden on a gloriously sunny afternoon. Could I do it? Could I hit ANY of my goals for this event? I had nightmares of being picked up by a tail end charlie van and removed from the course for extreme slowness.<br />
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Thankfully, the <a href="http://glenedenrunners.org.nz/">Glen Eden Harriers</a> are the friendliest bunch of runners you could hope to meet. After registering I was given a ten minute head start on the gun so I wouldn't finish too far behind the pack, and I even got my own photo taken of the off! Every marshal had a positive word and once I started being overtaken (by about the third kilometre) other runners were full of encouragement as they nipped past. Weirdly, knowing the massive hill was coming made it easier to handle and I was able to give a happy response to the overtakers even after three k of incline! The beautiful scenery of the Waitakeres helped and I got caught up in being somewhere new.<br />
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I had aimed to complete the run in 2 hours and felt pretty good to pass the half-way mark at 59:30. Unfortunately the next 2k consisted of the steepest part of the hill and my speed, erm, decreased. HOWEVER I managed to keep running (or at least making a running motion with my body, the speed aspect not so much), only taking a few walking steps at the the blessed water stop at the 10km mark. It was about here that the plethora of sticky plasters I'd put on to prevent bra-chafing came off, and my new trainers decided to start giving me arch problems (back to the shop tomorrow, sadly) However, I was rejuvenated by the refreshment and the last few inclines were taken with good humour and the final descent into Glen Eden was done pretty quickly, though as I could feel my legs feeling incredibly heavy on the flat I doubt I'd have run the whole way without the steep descent. I romped home in 2:03 (according to my watch), a proud last place but absolutely overjoyed at how I'd done. I got a warm congratulations from the timekeepers, who humoured me with my revelation that it had been the furthest I'd ever run and one chap even took my transponder off for me as I must have looked in no fit state to manipulate anything off my foot.<br />
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The club had laid on an afternoon tea for the runners and I gave in to my ravenous belly and had some cakes, pies, cookies and two cans of diet coke before the prizegiving (unfortunately my belly rebelled against this feast once I got home- too much, too rich, too soon. Oops).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUuhklCp8ZtsacV10KL5e4HZ_EcGxI8vNyoQBd9UnKLBIKmuvuBIR16PYHBIY-8pqEZDTDSEP8I0Wyw0W9KsN18zT9ET1gs3xRyUF_6j8wjuc2DOk-haPuljyFGJ9bKCpGYa6-C61O8obr/s1600/IMG_0687%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUuhklCp8ZtsacV10KL5e4HZ_EcGxI8vNyoQBd9UnKLBIKmuvuBIR16PYHBIY-8pqEZDTDSEP8I0Wyw0W9KsN18zT9ET1gs3xRyUF_6j8wjuc2DOk-haPuljyFGJ9bKCpGYa6-C61O8obr/s320/IMG_0687%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spot prize!</td></tr>
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Excitingly, I managed to win my first running spot prize! As you can see, it's a lamp and some place mats. I actually needed a lamp so that's rad, but placemats would require a dining table so we'll have to see what else I can do with them. I spoke to a fair few of the harriers and found them to be extremely friendly and approachable, which makes me think that joining a club might not be such a dumb idea.<br />
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I was considering trying my luck at the Taupo half marathon next weekend but as they've upped the prices I may go check out the YMCA marathon club instead. I shall report back!<br />
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I feel like I've crossed a massive barrier with this event. If I can run ten miles, I can run 26.2 miles. If I can grit teeth for two hours, I can grit them for five. If I can run up THAT hill, I can run over the harbour bridge. I thought to myself on the drive there "If I fail this, then the marathon is over". Looks like we're good to go for a while yet...<br />
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<u>Event goals</u><br />
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Complete (<i>done)</i><br />
Run entire event <i>(done)</i><br />
Complete event in two hours or less <i>(close!)</i><br />
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<u>Body report</u><br />
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Massive blister on arch of left foot and toe on right foot <i>(taking shoes back for refit)</i><br />
Cuts/chafing from sports bra despite taping <i>(new bras in transit!)</i><br />
Stiffness and ouch from not stretching properly after run <i>(don't do that again- stretch before cake, always)</i><br />
Sick from too much cake too soon after event<i> (just because there is a massive spread doesn't mean you have to try all of it)</i>Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-26073619927431903942012-07-26T02:43:00.001-07:002012-07-26T02:43:14.951-07:00BASE! (How low can you go?)<br />
Ah, Public Enemy. Always so very quotable (apart from the anti-Semitic stuff). Yes indeed, according to marathon coach, I am 30% through my program and have completed the base (BASE!) section of my program. <div>
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As you might be able to guess from me quoting Chuck D, I am feeling a bit better about the whole thing compared to Tuesday. In marathon training, as in politics, a lot can happen in a week. Here's the stats rundown:</div>
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30% completed</div>
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Total distance: 226.66km (though a few of those are cross-training k's from cycling round Scottish islands)</div>
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Weight: 84kg</div>
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93 days to go</div>
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So, what's happened? I woke up on Wednesday morning (in my current role I start later on Wednesdays) still feeling rotten about the notion of running but determined to push through. This, I decided, is the difference between people who line up at the start on marathon day and those who don't. I laced up my new shoes (still getting some arch bruising on my left foot but I'm waiting to see if it sorts itself out as I break the shoes in), queued up some tunes and set out on my Wednesday pace run. Thirty minutes easy warm up, then 5x 2min at half marathon pace with 1min recoveries, then a 16 minute slow jog cool down to round off the hour. Due to heavy rain over the previous few days the humidity was surprisingly high given the early hour, but what a luxury to run in daylight!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">XTERRA give you a free official photo. <br />That's my "fuck you, hill" face.</td></tr>
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And you know what? I hated every bloody minute of it. By the time I reached 30 minutes I felt ready to throw in the towel. My "fast" intervals felt like I was wading through molasses. My slow run recoveries were a fast walk. But I bloody did it, the whole frickin' hour. It felt like a huge victory, like I'd taken a step towards getting through this rough patch (the alternative title of this post was going to be "Tramping the Hump" after a glorious strapline in <a href="http://www.wildernessmag.co.nz/">W<i>ilderness</i> magazine</a>. Totally unrelated to running but it summed up my feelings). Plugging in my measly distance into the iPod was incredibly satisfying. </div>
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Yesterday evening I also discovered a secret (OK, not that secret) weapon in the War on 42.2. Yoga. I've mentioned yoga a few times on here, but I confess to falling out a regular practice in the last year or so (no time, or so went the excuse). However, on the urging and recommendation of a good friend I turned up at <a href="http://www.theloft.org.nz/">The Loft</a> in the city and I can say they were not wrong! The Wednesday night class is a fun, physical class with lots of balance poses and deep forward and back bends that did a great job of stretching out and loosening those muscles that felt so miserable in recent weeks. In addition, they throw in a delicious cruelty-free vegetarian meal (with pudding) afterwards for free! It's a really nice, relaxing space and I can recommend checking out the class if you're in the area. </div>
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In addition to yesterday's successes, my running Obi-Wan Jane sent me an email after my last post, saying she knew someone who was about the same speed as me and that we should get together for runs. This evening we met up and went for a leisurely spin round the local park. It was ace! Both our training programs had an "easy" run, and it was really refreshing to have exactly that. No busting my arse trying to keep up, just a genuine easy run with someone new to talk to. We're going to run again next week and see about making our easy runs a joint effort, which would be great for my motivation and also to stop seeing every run as an exercise in pain. </div>
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The other day I put down over $100 on two <a href="http://www.shockabsorbersport.co.nz/">Shock Absorber bras</a> from <a href="http://www.wiggle.co.uk/">Wiggle</a>. Why, you ask? Er, because of this:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn33EZjA8b727lPfBUe58JKrOJasreeW2M3ZGdptgN9Yj6ws3MGyKPWx1PrfMvnsZ2r7FBwQiNWP-VzJw7ucnl4PbQvORp9Fwo4DBZJUEq00TzJl_6h4POIXdnlkOM1AxyRYHSjHGcKxCA/s1600/IMG_0681%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn33EZjA8b727lPfBUe58JKrOJasreeW2M3ZGdptgN9Yj6ws3MGyKPWx1PrfMvnsZ2r7FBwQiNWP-VzJw7ucnl4PbQvORp9Fwo4DBZJUEq00TzJl_6h4POIXdnlkOM1AxyRYHSjHGcKxCA/s320/IMG_0681%5B1%5D.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And that is literally half the story.<br /></td></tr>
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This is what happens when you train for hours a week in a bra that might fit great and support you, but isn't actually designed for running. The Shock Absorber Run bras have won awards so I'm betting my boobs on them making running a less painful experience. If they don't get here by Saturday I'll be running the Glen Eden Ten Miler with big sticky plasters and a pained expression....</div>
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As a final note, I have stopped listening to music on every run but find it useful on the big ones and the speedwork. <a href="http://mus.ge/D025CD52-freq_nasty_-_festival_feria_sevilla__mp3.html">This mix by Freq Nasty</a> has a remix of Bring the Noise about halfway through that led to the title of this post. My mate Magneze has put together some ace techno mixes that are great for running too, this is <a href="http://www.mixcloud.com/magneze/crispy-sparrows-mix/">his latest one.</a> (link to download further down page)</div>Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-82651910687050545942012-07-24T03:16:00.001-07:002012-07-24T03:16:50.734-07:00Tilting at WindmillsI'm having one of those days where the enormity of the task I have set myself is sinking in. Where it feels like as ridiculous and impossible a task as it's possible to undertake. It's not nice.<br />
<br />
Today I decided to face my fears and go running with a social running group. Facebook and the internet has details of millions of them, but one was near my house, seemed very friendly and after I met the guy in charge at XTERRA on Sunday I felt ready to take the plunge and run with that most terrifying of creatures, Other People.<br />
<br />
I've been in training now for a shade under two months, so I figured I would slot in with their slow pack. The meet point was a cheeky 2 k or so from my house so I figured a gentle warm up run to the start, introduce myself, 5k tempo run, then a slow jog/walk home. All in keeping with my plan, all good.<br />
<br />
I am acutely aware of not possessing a runner's build. I am stocky. I jiggle. I am (thanks to holiday cheese and barbecue) 84kg which puts me firmly in the "Athena" weight class (I love that). At XTERRA there were loads of us Athenas and Clydesdales on the start line and it was great. At the running group, I was the only one. My blistering 6:30 min/km time to the start now seemed a bit pathetic in the face of five or six incredibly fit long-term runners who looked like they had been built for speed not comfort. There was no slow pack.<br />
<br />
I lasted about ten minutes at their pace. I'm quite proud of that. I'm not fast at all and to be able to keep pace for a bit was just awesome. Then I found that no matter how hard I tried, the gap kept widening. No biggie, I thought, I'll just run my own pace. Then the group leader saw that I had fallen behind and dropped back to keep me company.<br />
<br />
To his eternal credit, he didn't make a big deal out of it at all. He didn't initiate conversation but answered my gasped questions with enthusiasm (given I sounded like I was in the latter stages of labour he probably thought conversation would kill me. He may have been right). Eventually I said that he should go on once we got through the park, that I would run up the infamous Chinaman's Hill and make my way home at my own pace. Again to his credit, he did. No cajoling, no reproach. Thanks dude.<br />
<br />
It's all me, I know. The schoolyard fear of being the fat kid in glasses left on the bench. I faced my social/fitness awkwardness fear and had it realised anyway. I walked up the hill and home feeling angry and bitterly frustrated with myself and my slow, heavy body. After all this effort, all the sacrifices I'd made, why is this still so goddamn hard?<br />
<br />
I appreciate the gains I have made. I can run 5k in 32 minutes. I can run 10k in just over an hour. Hell, I can run 10k. I know my neighbourhood better than most long term residents. I am sticking to the program (minus the short, cheese-powered trip home). I'm making progress, I have to be.<br />
<br />
But the shine has worn off the challenge and the days are short. The weather's grossly uninspiring, the run program is only asking for more time and mileage, and it won't slacken off until the final few weeks before the big day. This is the part of training where marathon runners are decided, not on the start line. This is where I either grit teeth, toughen up and continue to lace up those bloody shoes four days a week, or where I make my excuses and go find something else to do with my time.<br />
<br />
So, tomorrow is meant to be a 60 minute pace run, then there's a 40 minute easy run on Thursday before Saturday's ten mile event. I'm dreading all of them, but I'll make every single one. Hopefully.Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-58503403680176570172012-07-22T00:52:00.001-07:002012-07-22T00:52:56.343-07:00Adventures in shoe fitting Pt. 2Today's been a big day running wise, and this merited a post all to itself. A few weeks ago <a href="http://skinnydodger.blogspot.co.nz/2012/06/week-3-progress-and-setbacks.html">I wrote a post about the merits of my new running shoes, and how they were wonderful and rad. </a> Well, as the weeks wore on it transpired that they were less amazing than I first thought. Not for me the usual blisters on the heels or the toes, oh no. My shoes were bruising and blistering the arches of my feet. It would be OK for the first 5k or so but then it start to be sore and after ten kilometres it'd feel crippling. My run on Wednesday culminated in my hobbling home as a result (it's a surprisingly sensitive area!)and I felt it was time to do something about it. I had bought my original pair from <a href="http://www.shoeclinic.co.nz/">Shoe Clinic</a>, a chain that offers the full monty of video gait analysis, sizing etc. etc. They also offer a 30 day return policy on shoes that have been prescribed by them. Due to my holiday I was outside the 30 days, but I figured they might be able to suggest an insole or something that would stop the pain.
They say that if you get good service somewhere, you tell one person. Get bad service, you tell ten. I figure that good service is worth as much airtime as bad so I want to go on record here and say that Shoe Clinic Ponsonby were brilliant. The two sales staff got me back on the treadmill in bare feet to see if they could ID the problem, then after a lot of conferring as to how to fix the problem got me another type of shoe. After some more treadmilling, they did a swap on the shoes, and even showed me how to lace my left shoe to hold the foot in place better in the trainer (there's more movement on that side apparently). No grumping about doing an exchange, hell they even said if the problem persists to come back and see what else can be done! They were also happy to spend time and talk about their own training for the marathon, and swap running stories. As a relative newb who hardly has a runner's build, it's really nice to be treated as an equal and not patronised.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsA1csxfwpubpJslTvwrn3mKFYsTwt2WGj19e5C4AzMUeQWTUtjvsT4RAOJbKLXfrK2p1njSbqZ3RmmaSzM7lWFvBQcV4jDWHOfcYA-4u7R90NaPZy0UVvywaMoDzP4IXGTMdcIQBlpIvU/s1600/IMG_0675%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsA1csxfwpubpJslTvwrn3mKFYsTwt2WGj19e5C4AzMUeQWTUtjvsT4RAOJbKLXfrK2p1njSbqZ3RmmaSzM7lWFvBQcV4jDWHOfcYA-4u7R90NaPZy0UVvywaMoDzP4IXGTMdcIQBlpIvU/s320/IMG_0675%255B1%255D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ASICS Gel Cumulus 14- more neutral than a beige sweater in Zurich</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm absolutely over the moon about this as I couldn't afford another $250 for shoes (I need a decent running bra but that's a whole other story) but I couldn't keep running in the ones I had. So cheers guys, I really appreciate it and I recommend them 100%<br />
<br />
<i>Note: I didn't get anything from Shoe Clinic for this review, they didn't know I was writing this, etc. etc. </i>Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-84523501083392216362012-07-22T00:07:00.000-07:002012-07-22T00:09:00.472-07:00"It doesn't have to be fun to be fun"<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01791/real-ralston-rock_1791763b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" src="http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01791/real-ralston-rock_1791763b.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We can forgive the myspace angle on this occasion.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Prior to my trip to the UK, I went to my local library and got myself some quality reading material for the estimated 75 hours I'd spent on planes or departure lounges (not to mention the hours between me and everyone else waking up). For the last few years I've been on a heavy non-fiction kick and at the moment it's books on sports. Running, mountaineering, cycling, diving, anything really that doesn't involve a ball or the word "Wackiest". It was somewhere between Dubai and Singapore that I finally picked up <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aron_Ralston">Aron Ralston</a>'s "Between a Rock and a Hard Place". For those of you who don't know, Aron is the guy who went canyoning and ended up with his right hand wedged in between the canyon wall and a chockstone. After six days (or 127 Hours as the title of the film made of the book described it) he succeeded in cutting off the arm and hiking and rappelling his way to safety. Despite having given away the ending (which, to be fair, the book's jacket does anyway) I would really recommend it, if only for Ralston's thoughts on why certain people go climbing, run, or all the other stuff that makes the rest of society say "you're mental". One line from it really struck a chord with me, the title of this entry. How many times have I grimaced through a workout, a skate drill, a run, thinking about how much it sucks and how much I hate it whilst at the same time not wanting to be anywhere else? Human beings are complex things.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It resonated with me because of my slow realisation, I guess, that gratification comes in many forms and sometimes the best kind isn't the simplest. Today I ran my first proper trail event, the<a href="http://www.trailrun.co.nz/aucklandseries/results2012.php"> XTERRA series event </a>in Waiuku, about an hour south of Auckland. It was raining this morning when I woke up and stayed that way until about 7km in to the run. There was a headwind for the first 3km. It was sandy, which made it feel like a recurring dream I've had for years, where I'm running away from something but I'm going nowhere and my legs feel like lead. It was cold. It wasn't fun. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But I had fun. Fun, dammit! I crossed the line with two women who, though I'd never met them before, were lovely and supportive and we ended up encouraging each other along the final few k's. I spent a few kilometres navigating a mud-and-cutty-grass section with a lovely older woman who asked me why I was doing the marathon, which certainly distracted me from the cold and the leaden feeling in my legs. I got some fast sections in between the godforsaken sand. I even manages to smile(ish) for the photographer at the finish. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/376920_444034122285608_1268324906_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/376920_444034122285608_1268324906_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our intrepid group, post-run. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
I decided not to wear my tracking watch as I had thought the course would be way muddier than it actually was and the idea of breaking it by submerging it in the gloop seemed daft. I don't know how I did but I feel my initial goal of 1 hour 30 might be extremely optimistic. I'm waiting for the times to be released but if I came in under 1:45 I'll be happy. I ran <i>most</i> of the way (and the walks were very short rest walks rather than big sections) and I managed to maintain a decent, though slow, pace throughout so I'm pleased with that. It didn't have to be fun to be fun. </div>
Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-65885851117675776742012-07-19T23:01:00.000-07:002012-07-19T23:01:20.519-07:00"It's not you, it's me"So went the opening line of the email I sent last night, informing my league that I will no longer be skating this season.
It can't come as a surprise to any regular readers of this, really, even if we don't talk much in real life. I'd felt my attention drifting for some time and my time away made me realise that I didn't actually miss skating. It was time to go.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/531592_10151007455827287_1753977958_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/531592_10151007455827287_1753977958_n.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2012 promo shot. (c) Pirate City Rollers. <br />For posterity. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My dad used to race classic motorcycles and I grew up learning about the TT, various GPs and the men who rode and died on the track. I remember when hearing about one such case my dad saying that in racing even the best rider can have a crunch point. An accident or a near miss beyond which they never fully regain their mental sharpness. They take the corner a little slower, they pull back instead of throttling on, and they know it's over. It might not be their biggest accident, or an accident at all, but one incident will be the hammer blow to their confidence.
So it proved.<br />
<br />
My point wasn't breaking my ankle. It wasn't even an injury I sustained. It is, however, an incident that still gives me nightmares and I haven't written about it until now.
My best friend in the league had broken her leg at scrimmage a fortnight beforehand and I'd spent a long night in the hospital with her. I was recovering from my own ankle surgery to remove the plates and it was my second scrimmage back. It was a mixed scrimmage due to our first bout of the season happening that weekend, and everyone was taking it easy. I was in the pack, in a wall with some other skaters when the woman to my left took a massive can-opener. She went into me at the same time another skater in front of me hit the deck. It was a fairly standard mid-jam pack pile-up, the kind that happens all the time.
Only this time I felt something give way under my shin in the fall that shouldn't. Something that wasn't part of my body. It felt sickening. Then there was screaming. I helped as much as I could, then went home after a shell-shocked drink in the local bar. I stayed up almost all night, shaking and crying from the shock of being involved. I felt responsible. I phoned my mum back in the UK at 3am (the only time I've been thankful for time zones) saying over and over "I broke her leg, oh god, I broke her leg". I spent hours wanting to throw up, and when I finally slept my dreams were the worst kind.<br />
<br />
I went to see her in hospital the next day, where the x-ray made the fractures look almost artistic, like filigree. I was reassured that it wasn't my fault, just as I had assured Grenade that it wasn't hers when I'd had my accident. I remembered how I'd meant every word when I said it to her, so I believed it when the same was said to me.
However, I never really got over it. I played the bout that Saturday and we won but it wasn't like it had been before. I coached and tried to keep things going in my head but on the track I wasn't the same. Without the high I got from skating, it started to feel like a job. I started to resent the time it demanded of me where before I had welcomed it as a major part of my life. Like those TT riders who'd had one incident too many, I backed off instead of throttling on. I stopped engaging the opponent when I needed to, I started feeling like a spare wheel in the pack. I didn't make the travel team cut, and then a week before our last bout I partially dislocated my kneecap doing a turnaround toe stop, which impacted on my running, not to mention walking, sitting down, and driving. Enough was enough.<br />
<br />
It feels like a break up in many ways. Derby was there for me at a critical point in my life. It was a piton to hang my week from when avalanches threatened to rip me off the wall. It was an area to improve, the gains coming steadily and progress measurable at a time when it felt like I was failing everywhere else. It offered a lot of positives when I desperately needed them and I'll always be grateful for that. I'll miss having it in my life but, like all break ups, it comes with that feeling that here's an opportunity to make some positive changes.
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-prn1/36520_661487017918_1332940130_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-prn1/36520_661487017918_1332940130_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Rainbow Warrior, two weeks before the incident.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So where to from here? Well, it's now less than a hundred days to the marathon. I have some money squirrelled away and I'm considering buying a decent road bike and getting into triathlon training again for the summer. <a href="http://alpineclub.org.nz/">The New Zealand Alpine Club</a> are meeting in a couple of weeks, I might go along and see about finally getting into mountaineering after years of reading and thinking about it. The local mountain bike park has a women's riding group (the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/CrankSistas">Cranksistas</a>- love that name) and I might do up my old thing and go say hi. With better weather comes scuba diving, which I definitely want to do more of. There's a lot out there, and thanks to roller derby I'm ready to go and explore.Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-12064682482663709622012-07-18T02:10:00.000-07:002012-07-18T02:16:35.162-07:00Return to the Colonies<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-snc7/c0.0.403.403/p403x403/403855_10151096878370127_252660739_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-snc7/c0.0.403.403/p403x403/403855_10151096878370127_252660739_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I awoke at 4am to this. I wasn't going to say no.</td></tr>
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Fourteen weeks to go (ish) and I'm just back from a two-week trip to the motherland to see the family, eat my own bodyweight in cheese and attempt to run around the Scottish and English countrysides. Due to the former two objectives the latter was not done as much as I'd have liked, but I did manage to get out a few times (waking up at 4am due to jetlag gives you a lot of time for a dawn run) in between horrible weather.<br />
<br />
I also managed to get in some good cycles with my parents. My dad has become something of a cycling fanatic (apparently there's an acronym for this: MAMILs- middle aged men in lycra) and is training for his second sportive in the autumn, something that's quite inspirational in and of itself. He was really keen for us to get out on the road and we managed it twice. Once on the Orkney islands of Rousay and Wyre (though Wyre is about a km across so not really that big a trek), and my last full day was spent cycling round the Isle of Bute in the firth of Clyde.<br />
<br />
I'd forgotten just how nice cycling can be, easily done in a city where cyclists are seen as at best a nuisance and at worst roadkill in potentia. It was great fun seeing descents as an extreme sport rather than a new torture device for knees, and whilst I wasn't able to keep pace with the old man on the big ascents (apparently running doesn't build up the right muscles) I had a fantastic time and got the muscles firing! Giving serious consideration to buying myself a road bike, as my mountain bike is about a decade old now and the frame doesn't actually fit me all that well. It's a fair few hundred dollars to find for that though, so bears more consideration. Would be useful for doing some more triathlons though, something that's definitely on the agenda post-marathon.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6qHDJs0TH4nyCWFYPvKWN7yPNxjnZ4D2l_dZJy7P8EI5O0sraISZOA8uFJ_UA9O9junNbCs9XvRgDotRm9kTDAmkbtwz5WfzYQXN4dUTdyjzZ7XUu0sBNGiqHxCrTgZGUpxfxeow3ebr-/s1600/IMG_0666%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6qHDJs0TH4nyCWFYPvKWN7yPNxjnZ4D2l_dZJy7P8EI5O0sraISZOA8uFJ_UA9O9junNbCs9XvRgDotRm9kTDAmkbtwz5WfzYQXN4dUTdyjzZ7XUu0sBNGiqHxCrTgZGUpxfxeow3ebr-/s320/IMG_0666%5B1%5D.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It is possible to take a photo of oneself <br />
on the move with an ipod!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So, after all the cheese and the goodbyes and a <b>40 HOUR</b> trip home to the colonies, a journey that left me so dazed that when I got off the airport shuttle to get a taxi a passerby stopped to ask if I spoke English and needed assistance, it's time to get into training proper. The marathon is now 101 days away, and I have a lot of work to do! Today was a pace run, so I decided to mix it up a bit and run to and up Mount Eden, one of the largest of Auckland's myriad volcanic cones. It seemed like a good way to get back into my training program and would offer some visual reward at the top.<br />
<br />
It's pretty much a straight uphill from my house to the base, so I was feeling it by the time I got to the one way road that takes the lazy/less insane to the top. I blindly followed a (much fitter) runner up what turned out to be the steeper of the two options, and it left me wanting to throw up about two thirds of the way up. Dear reader, I confess to walking at a couple of points. I'm not proud, and I'll try to ensure it won't happen again. Happily, the view from the summit was absolutely breathtaking (not that I had much breath to take by that point), and I think the mount will feature a lot in future pace/resistance runs in future. Happily, I recovered from the ascent quickly enough that I decided to tiki tour my way home and ended up padding through some lovely bird-infested suburbs and heard some tuis for the first time in ages, well worth it!<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, my wonderful and expensive running shoes are rubbing some small but vicious blisters on the arches of my feet. Due to my holiday, I'm outside the returns policy timeframe, but I'm hoping they can suggest some way of stopping that from happening. I actually cut my run short today and hobbled the final couple of k as it was so painful, which was disappointing. My trail shoes seem OK though, just as well as I'm signed up for the XTERRA off-road race this Sunday. 12k of mud, trails and fun (or so they tell me).<br />
<br />
Current warm-up events are:<br />
<br />
22 July: XTerra (12km)<br />
28 July: Glen Eden Ten Miler<br />
1 September: Whangamata Half marathon<br />
16 September: Whangarei Half marathon<br />
07 October: New Plymouth Half marathon (maybe)<br />
28 October: MARATHON<br />
<br />
I'm sure I'll be adding to this as I go, I do enjoy running in actual events as a way of keeping myself motivated and it's a good way of measuring my progress.Now that I'm back from my holiday it's all focused on the marathon and being ready for it. I should be running 16+ k by now and I'm behind. Not all my fault, a knee problem just before I flew out meant I needed to cut back on my training (and the physio agreed) and it does seem to have healed, but I'm still not getting the mileage in I need. From the top of Mt Eden I could see almost the entire marathon course and it looks like a hell of a long way!
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpW379FpAp5uc2uAhVfrcupYw1AQjrntMY8QtQa1BMyk6yV20BGSGWFM1z48ALtgZcU_dzg-RAQGeJ1-4vplTG_Ej5-bK3LW_ny7MlaM89DwT4YmxFJXbO8Swkx4Xo9Y4iMlxdTuEHLOG8/s1600/IMG_0655%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpW379FpAp5uc2uAhVfrcupYw1AQjrntMY8QtQa1BMyk6yV20BGSGWFM1z48ALtgZcU_dzg-RAQGeJ1-4vplTG_Ej5-bK3LW_ny7MlaM89DwT4YmxFJXbO8Swkx4Xo9Y4iMlxdTuEHLOG8/s640/IMG_0655%5B1%5D.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arran from the Isle of Bute. If only Scotland looked like this more often....</td></tr>
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<br />Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-59897447516478639702012-06-27T03:26:00.002-07:002012-06-27T03:26:35.454-07:00A new name, a new sport, some new blistersJust a short post and I doubt anybody will really care who's not me, but it felt time for a change of name, mission and picture. I've had this blog since January 2011 and in the last 18 months it's seen some huge changes. From "I'm losing weight and getting fit through derby" to "Derby is amazing and important but now I have goals beyond dress size" to "I've fallen and I can't get up" I've put it all on here. However, I always kept the name as I firmly believed that, even when recuperating in hospital after surgery, that derby genuinely did me good. Thing is, I'm now writing about things other than derby more often than I describe the world of flat track and it felt that the name was becoming something of a misnomer.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/292228_10150733742668500_762368011_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/292228_10150733742668500_762368011_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">To the victor goes the high fives.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I chose "25 in 5 to 42.2" because in the beginning days of my blog I was obsessed with my performance in the WFTDA basic endurance test of 25 laps. I filled screeds of text on here, facebook and twitter about my latest attempt to get under 4 minutes (my current record is 4:06). With my shift to the famous marathon distance it felt like a fitting way to mark the transition. The photo is of, I think, the happiest moment in my entire derby career and possibly the moment when things changed for me. My team had just beaten their old rivals for the first time in history. It was a wonderful moment and I'm glad someone caught it on camera. With any luck I'll feel that elation again on the 28th October. It's a reminder of the best of the sport and just amazing playing and taking part in stuff like makes me feel.<br />
<br />
I hope I don't alienate any readers who know this as a derby blog (though let's face it, if you did you'll be long gone by now!) and that you'll continue to read and support me on this. I'll still be skating and writing about it of course (since when did I ever stick to one topic) but this is too important a mission not to keep a journal.<br />
<br />
And of course, thank you to everyone who takes the time to read this. I always think it's amazing when people come up to me and say they read it and talk about something I've written, or leave messages on facebook, twitter or (very rarely) the blog itself. Your support means a lot.<br />
<br />
Bruja x<br />
<br />
<br />Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-31190611889723357562012-06-27T02:44:00.002-07:002012-06-27T02:44:42.207-07:0018 Weeks to go!Ladies and gentlemen, we are no longer in pre-training. As of today, marathon coach informs me, I am now in the training plan properly. At half nine on Monday night struggling up Chinaman's hill at the end of a 10k in the cold and rain I'd have argued the notion of it being "pre" anything, but there it is. I'm into it properly now. <br />
<br />
Some stats:<br />
16% completed<br />
97.56km covered (though apparently my Garmin is rather conservative- about .25k for every 10k covered but I'll stick with it)<br />
Weeks to marathon: 18<br />
Weeks spent training: 7<br />
Fastest 5k: 33 minutes<br />
Fastest 10k: 78 minutes (adjusted final time)<br />
Current weight: 80kg (85 on the 7th May)<br />
<br />
Part of me is quite chuffed I've made it this far, really. The desire to complete and do well is still really strong, I'm working my arse and making nearly every run on my plan. I had a setback last week when, post 10k race I partially dislocated my kneecap at skating. The physio is keeping a close eye on it but it still feels weird and gross if any lateral or shearing forces are applied to it (normal walking, running etc. is fine). So I find myself in the bizarre situation of being able to run 10k but not skate (skiing's out too), and until earlier this week I had to get into my car bum-first so I didn't twist my knee. <br />
<br />
I feel like I'm a battle against my body, injury and all the stuff I want to do. It feels like there's a constant stream of little niggles, annoyances and "WTF"s that are conspiring to stop me actually getting anywhere. This month alone it's been ankle and knee pain (the other knee!) from a skate pile-up, a stomach bug that left me unable to leave the house for a couple of days, and a kneecap that wouldn't do as it was told. I'm taking a month off skating (holiday to the motherland to see my family, then starting a new job) so I can see how that affects my accident rate. I was also told to try cold/ice baths after hard runs to help with muscle and joint problems, which I have to say seems to help but is gross in the extreme. After an hour or so pounding the streets in the dark, coming home usually warrants a hot shower and a huge dressing gown, not sitting in a bath of near-freezing water trying not to drop my book from shivering. Still, if it means I can keep going it'll be worth it.<br />
<br />
I'm still in love with this. There's no drama. If I don't do a run, the only person I have to answer to is me. There's no fundraising, no wondering about the team or drafts or coaching rosters. The hour or so I spend out there on rainy evenings is all me, all mine. I'm finding that I have more determination than I knew. Some people seem to need motivation to get out for a run, I find myself able to come home, chill out, eat some dinner and STILL get off the couch and get out there without the need for a lot of self-talk and promises of cookies.<br />
<br />
18 weeks to go, and I am on my way to being ready.Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-50683863678416901942012-06-16T19:45:00.000-07:002012-06-16T19:45:28.194-07:00Progress Report: Week 6WOO! Six weeks in to Operation Marathon, and a mighty 12% completed on my marathon training plan. My last update was a bit negative, but with Real World, running and roller derby I've not had much time for writing, sorry about that.<br />
<br />
Happily, my accident a couple of weeks ago just left me a bit battered but not actually injured (skaters will understand the difference here). I'm still super-sensitive to getting injured again and Sunday was spent freaking out a bit about the whole thing but I went for a gentle jog around the park the next day and it seemed to be OK, and the pain pretty much disappeared over the next few days. Yay!<br />
<br />
However, it has chipped a little bit more off my skating confidence. I'm really struggling with the derby head game at the moment. I dread scrimmages in case I or someone else gets hurt. I'm hesitating in situations that a year ago I wouldn't have thought twice about. Scrum derby strategies leave me feeling very uneasy and unhappy. I'd like to think that with every training I attend where nobody gets hurt my confidence will return, but at the moment it's hard. Really hard. We have a bout next weekend so watch this space I guess.<br />
<br />
I guess another thing that's making derby hard is that while I grapple with it my running is coming on great. Every week brings new progress and I can feel it both physically and mentally. I can now comfortably run for well over an hour, intervals and speedwork are an enjoyable challenge rather than something to be feared, and I'm making personal best times on 5 and 10k runs almost every time I put sole to sidewalk. I'm losing the derby mental game but it feels like I'm winning the running game.<br />
<br />
Today I faced my first milestone, a 10k race as part of the wildly popular Run Auckland series. I'd run a few of their 5k races a couple of years ago when I first dabbled in running, and the location of today's race was almost on my doorstop and the timing made a perfect checkpoint. I'd managed to comfortably run a few 10ks in the last couple of weeks so I definitely felt ready when I went to bed last night. The goals for today were:<br />
1) Finish the race<br />
2) Run the entire course<br />
3) Complete in under 70 minutes<br />
4) Average a speed of 9km/h<br />
<br />
As I've said before, I'm not fast. I'm getting <b>faster</b>, but I've got a long way to go! The day before I'd run 5k at an average speed of 9.1km so I thought that goal 4 would be a good thing to aim for, even if I wasn't successful. I was confident of 1 and 2, 4 was an "it would be nice if..." but 3 was the one to work for. The fastest I'd run a 10k before was 74 minutes. Could I take 4 off that? I had a horrible stomach bug last weekend and as a result had missed a few training runs, I wasn't sure how I'd go.<br />
<br />
This morning was COLD. Seriously cold. The race was a couple of k from my house so I decided to warm up for it by walking and there was thick frost on the ground at 8am (a very rare occurrence for Auckland). I hung on to my jacket until about 5 minutes before the race but my fingers and hands took about twenty minutes before I got any feeling into them and the air was so cold it made my lungs hurt.<br />
<br />
The race was 4 laps around the park and I am damned if I'm doing another race where it's short laps like that. The first one I did fine, 9.1km/h and felt great. By lap 2 I was flagging a little but felt OK and passed the finish chute just as the men's winner completed the race (I expect to see me in the photos, cheering and clapping the guy). Lap 3, however, was a grind. I'd done it twice already, I knew the course now, and yet had to do it all over again. Twice. I was starting to feel tired, legs were starting to feel heavy. It became a head game. "Once I get to the top of this wee hilly bit, I only have to do it once more" "There's that woman with the weird run/walk stride, overtake her again" (we traded places about eight times, she beat me to the finish by about 30 seconds which is impressive given competitive walking looks about as unnatural a gait as it's possible for humans to have without going backwards on a pogo stick). I was a full minute behind my first lap time and felt I had a lot of work to do if I was make 70 minutes.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://p.twimg.com/AvjN7TqCQAAwWUq.jpg:large" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://p.twimg.com/AvjN7TqCQAAwWUq.jpg:large" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Recovery bath, those feets had worked hard</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Happily, by then, the head games were being won. I was just under 9k done when I passed the 1 hour mark, and that was the spur I needed. It was hard going but I stopped my watch at 1:09:07. I'd beaten my goal time by a minute, and run an average speed of 8.7km/h. I was over the bloody moon and ran over that line like I'd won the damn thing (people should be happier crossing finish lines I think). My walk home was much slower than my walk out but much more satisfied.<br />
<br />
I'll be honest, I find this running thing incredibly hard. I've lost a fair bit of fat since I started but I'm still an "Athena" class runner (they have a name for us, bigger guys are called "clydesdales". Draw your own conclusions) and it doesn't matter how charitable you're being, 81kg is still a lot to haul over 6 miles. True fact: When I use the runner's world shoe finder it makes picks based almost solely on my weight/BMI, regardless of my gait or mileage. I can run a 6 minute k but only one at this stage. However, I know I'm improving. I can feel my body changing as it copes with new demands placed on it. Where skating works the quads really hard but neglects the hamstrings, running does the opposite and I can now feel muscles down the backs of my legs where they weren't before. The unevenness that comes from skating predominantly one direction is being rectified by hours on the road. My backside now has MUSCLE underneath the fat. My core is tightening. Even my skin is looking better as I spend hours outside (though my lips are now permanently chapped in this weather). I have to say, I like where this journey is taking me.<br />
<br />
Next checkpoint race is at the end of August/start of September (either North Shore half marathon on the Whangamata Running Festival half). I'll be ready.<br />
<br />
<br />Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-91172391928030068162012-06-03T03:00:00.003-07:002012-06-03T03:00:52.543-07:00Week 3: Progress and SetbacksIt's a long weekend here in Aotearoa (some monarch having a birthday or something) and the dance card was looking pretty packed. However, it's never plain sailing in Bruja's World and I'm feeling a kind of horrible nerviness. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Yesterday I bowed to the twin gods of running and rampant commercialism and got myself fitted for a new pair of road running shoes. The shoes I believed to be right for my gait were tearing strips off my arches whenever I ran more than a few kilometres, and I felt my stride was different to when it had last been analysed (a diagnosis of horrible overpronation, heelstrike and flat footedness was given) and if I wanted to start packing on the k's a better set of gear was needed. Interestingly, it looks like my gait has indeed changed. I'm still flat-footed but my gait is very neutral, I no longer overpronate and that's really good news for running distance and not injuring my knees. Historically I've had real issues with my kneecaps dislocating, causing intense pain and lots of dire warnings from doctors, including the memorable response to the question "How do I stop this happening when I exercise?" "Stop exercising". Cue years of feeling like I couldn't and shouldn't and rampant obesity and a total lack of faith in my body. Nice.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://p.twimg.com/AudM_uBCQAAg8V3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://p.twimg.com/AudM_uBCQAAg8V3.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My running shoe family. Top left, the overpronate-correcting sole shredders. <br />Bottom right, the most expensive shoes I have ever bought. <br />I never in my life thought I'd have a trainer collection.</td></tr>
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<div>
New shoes in my possession, I decided that rest day and hot weather be damned. I was going for a run. The afternoon had that really nice, loose feel to it that made me think running 10k was a possibility. The longest I'd run since I started training was 5k (when I'd finished my intervals on the treadmill and decided to push on for the 5. Personal best yo) and as a wise man once said "If you can run 5 comfortably, you can run 10. Just run a bit slower" (thanks dad!). I planned a route out, one I'd never done before that took me to the waterfront then up a murderous hill but that came in just shy of the ten, and off I went. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It was great. My fancy GPS timing watch ran out of power about 3k in, so I sailed on without the carrot and stick that is the time. Having just got used to having a timer, it was strange going without. At one point I took a wrong turn which led to a dead end at the bottom of a ferocious incline but I was enjoying myself so much at that point I didn't care going all the way back up, it meant I was running for longer. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I pushed myself all the way up the hill (West End Road for you locals), and the final few k along a Saturday afternoon shopping street felt almost surreal. I was running in a little bubble of isolation, dodging past sleek-looking middle-aged women and pudgy kids. At one point, a small child ran alongside me for about three shop lengths, racing me to a bakery where a little dog was tied up. She pointed out as we ran that my cap was the same colour as her shoes. It was all I could do to grin and gesture, saving my energy for a final mad sprint down the hill towards my house. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
On wobbly legs I wandered around the block to cool down, gulping back water and feeling a weird mixture of exhaustion and freshness. The marathon has never felt more close, more achievable than it did at that moment. From checking the time when I got in the house with when I started my watch, it turned out I did the lot in 1 hour 18 minutes, hardly an Olympic qualifying time but still better than I'd thought. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.planetware.com/i/photo/auckland-nz686.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://www.planetware.com/i/photo/auckland-nz686.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Route went past this. Then went up. A lot.</td></tr>
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<div>
I had enough time to inhale a couple of sandwiches and wash the salt off my face before it was in the car to go to team training. We were learning a couple of new tricks and tips and I was feeling pretty good physically until during a scrum start one of the skaters went down and landed hard on my left leg. It's almost 100% but still doesn't like being over-extended and this overextended it a LOT. I also twisted at the trapped knee from being taken down. The pain was intense. Hell, for a few seconds I felt like I'd broken it again. The pain shot up from ankle to knee but after the initial impact it mercifully lacked the gut-wrenching pain of a break. I got some ice, took my skate off, and limped off the track. Just a little bang-up, I told myself. Really, no biggie. It'd be fine. I cancelled a dive trip today and turned down the offer of a cycle ride just to make sure.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It's over 24 hours since the "little bang-up" and I am not feeling fine. My knee won't bend without a sharp pain and my ankle doesn't like having my full weight on it. I went for coffee with someone and did little other than be annoyed about it (sorry dude). I want to go to a night out tonight but if I'm honest I'm in pain and cranky and PISSED OFF and probably not the kind of company wanted at a party. I was planning on going for a trail run tomorrow before this weekend's XTERRA 12k race but I'm not sure if that'll happen now. I'm actually getting a little teary writing this at the idea of not being able to make my training commitments this week while it heals. I'm even googling for a physio open on a bank holiday so I can get it looked at tomorrow. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm trying to be rational about it, I'm hoping it's nothing but the pain is pretty bad. If I'm out for a week or so I'm going to be bloody furious. I'm really hitting my stride (literally and figuratively) and to be laid up now would be positively cruel. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So here's the thing. Running isn't hurting me, skating is. This is the second training in two weeks where I've left the track prematurely with an icepack and a grimace (a big hit at scrimmage the other week gave me whiplash-like neck pains for about a week. Total game time: 5 minutes) I had entertained the notion that the derby fates were done with me and I would stop getting hurt. It looks like I was wrong. </div>
<div>
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<div>
I don't get it. I'm certainly fitter than the average skater. I run four times a week. I take my offskates seriously. I eat well. I listen to the "We're all really unfit and that's why we get injured" rhetoric and think hell, that's not me. So what is it? Because I have a feeling there's a decision coming that I'm going to have to make, and if I do then the shoes will beat the skates. I am going to run this bloody marathon, and if derby won't share me with it then the sport will have to go. </div>Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-80483092589780856082012-05-30T03:08:00.002-07:002012-05-30T03:08:40.663-07:00Digging inI announced to the world that I had entered the <a href="http://aucklandmarathon.co.nz/">Auckland Marathon</a> two and a half weeks ago. There was lots of YAY and AWESOME and GO YOU to start with, and then I'd run out of people to tell and there's nothing left but me, training and the occasional stranger who gets within earshot. It's dark almost all the time I'm not in work, the rain is frequent and the mornings frosty. It comes down to a mental game now, the first challenge of whether I can stick to my training program once the novelty has worn off and I have to find time to put my runs into my everyday life. It's time to dig in.<br />
<br />
I decided at the start of this that the best way to make this whole adventure happen was to have no excuses. If the planner says run, I run. So if it says I need to run on a day I'm skating, I get to the rink early and run as a warm up. If I've no time, I run after training. Monday saw me running at quarter to ten at night, grinding it up a bastard of a hill in the kind of drizzle that chills to the bone. Today I was up at 5-ish, flew the length of the north island for an all day meeting, flew back, did my grocery shopping, came home, and went straight out for a 20 minute "easy" run. Tomorrow I need to either get up before 6am to get my run in or squish it in after coaching somewhere.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/HH8nQiILe1Q?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<i>Great documentary about a bunch of unfit types training for Boston. </i></div>
What I'm discovering though, is that this discipline is bringing benefits, even at this early stage. There was no doubt in my mind on my flight home today that I was going to run when I got home. By the time I got home from training on Monday I'd mapped out a route in my head that I was fairly confident would take me half an hour at my "long run" pace (I was on the money, too). I'm discovering interesting little side roads, back streets and shortcuts. I used to take music with me but recently discovered that I run better and more efficiently when I don't have headphones in. That short period between starting to run and feeling out of breath is gradually increasing, and even when I'm breathing heavily I feel more comfortable with it. I'm feeling progress happening.<br />
<br />
According to my planner, I'm 4% of the way through. This is oddly comforting. I like knowing that if I feel this good at 4%, 40% is going to feel awesome, let alone 100%!Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-90427737354170442682012-05-20T02:15:00.000-07:002012-05-20T02:15:56.245-07:00Big Mouth and Bonnie D.Stroir<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/561198_433082553377195_170596969625756_1642813_1900061528_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/561198_433082553377195_170596969625756_1642813_1900061528_n.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the mic. Photo by jyphoto.co.nz</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Another weekend of derby action, and this time I actually got to be on skates! Last night was another home game for my league, and as Mascara Massacre had a bye I was asked to MC for the night (having established my lack of fear when it comes to the mic when I was interviewed for a national sport radio station last month). The learning curve was really steep, and it took a fair few jams to get into the swing of things. For example, you can say something about a player going <i>to </i>the box, but nothing about a player <i>leaving the box. </i>Likewise, no matter how exciting it is, you can't talk about the jammer hitting the back of the pack as you don't want to give any team an advantage. To be fair, in all the bouts I've played in have I ever even noticed the commentating unless there's been a time out and even then I've normally been engaged in something else, so the odds of the MC saying something I a) hear, b) register that c) I haven't noticed and d) will give me an advantage seems incredibly small, but I guess it makes sense. I got a fair few compliments on my skills though, so maybe when I retire a future in commentating beckons?<br />
<br />
Of course, it helped that it was an exciting match-up and there was lots to talk about. The Blackheart Bruisers, who are a new take on an old home team, finally beat Dead Wreckoning with a convincing 141-95 scoreline. Given that we beat DW 130-73 last month we're looking at a very interesting bout on the 23rd June! (check out <a href="http://nzrollerderbyscores.blogspot.co.nz/">http://nzrollerderbyscores.blogspot.co.nz/</a> for all your scoreline needs). The Bruisers worked incredibly hard over the last couple of months to gel as a team and make that win happen, so I feel like we have our work cut out. It's always weird when there's a gap between playing, either on a small scale (at scrimmage) or a large scale (bouts) or a huge scale (injury) and I confess to finding it hard to get my head back in team mode!<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://p.twimg.com/AtU7LSeCQAA9hRc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://p.twimg.com/AtU7LSeCQAA9hRc.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Notes from a bootcamp. Jamming is fun!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
No afterparty for me last night (apart from a couple of hours on the door taking money and drinking lemonade) as this morning I was up early to attend a boot camp held by <a href="http://www.bonniedstroir.com/">Bonnie D. Stroir</a>. I've mentioned her on here a few times before and if you don't know who she is, please do check out her page and her <a href="http://livelovederby.blogspot.co.nz/">now-closed-but-still-interesting-blog </a>. Bonnie is (as far as I'm aware) the first professional roller derby skater, who's earning a living coaching around the world. She was assistant coach to Team USA at the World Cup, and has been skating since 2003, when I was kicking around Glasgow on a minimum wage job and roller derby was as unknown as, I don't know, something I still don't know about. There's no arguing her credentials, but I confess to being a little, I don't know, cynical? Since I started skating I've been coached by members of Rocky Mountain Roller Girls, Rose City Rollers, and numerous Aussie and NZ leagues. They've all been valuable but I couldn't help wondering what Bonnie's got that makes her good enough to make a living out of it where, say, Assaultin' Pepa of RMRG still has a day job. So it was with a lot of curiosity and keen that I set off for out North Shore venue for three hours of Bonnie.<br />
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I have to say, the woman delivers. As a teacher I know a little bit about how it's done and Bonnie's bloody good. She went through several different jammer-specific drills and tricks, each building on the last and totally changing how I view the art of jamming. As the woman herself put it "I've had a lot of time to think about this" and it shows. Even though I'm not a jammer (though wearing the pantie for the first time since the accident was quite exciting and made me rethink my "never again" stance!) I could see the value in the drills, how I could apply them, and a lot of her core ideas are valid everywhere on and off the track. She's upbeat without it getting ridiculous, gets attention without being bossy and does a good job of breaking things up into explanation, drill, and time for taking notes (she plays music during the drills so you're less inclined to get caught up in talking about the drill and more time just doing it- good strategy that).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bonnie (purple helmet) gives us some wisdom. Photo by Khloe Karbash-Ya-In</td></tr>
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She finished up the morning with a chat about derby and what she's learned. She's got no time for false modesty but is refreshingly honest about the mistakes she's made and how she's learning from them. Listening to her talk about how to keep derby a "happy place" had a lot of resonance with me, as it's feeling less like that at the moment for numerous reasons and I'd like to get some of the love back. There's something refreshing about talking to someone who's still got that enthusiasm, that joy in skating that we all had when we first let go of the handrail at the rink, after nine years in the sport. I left with a lot to think about in terms of my goals, my game and my attitude and I'd like to think the other attendees did too. I left a total Bonnie convert though, and one of her Live Love Derby stickers now adorns my helmet. Seems like a positive thing to remember on the track.Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3231620677891254489.post-59929256367586724122012-05-13T01:37:00.001-07:002012-05-13T01:37:17.433-07:00Why exercise is better than cider.It's Sunday evening here in the land of the long white cloud, and the weekend is drawing to a gentle close. I have a mug of peppermint tea, newly-dyed and cut hair, David Attenborough on the TV and a belly full of home made curry. Contented doesn't begin to describe it. <br />
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The weekend's been a successful one all told. Friday night I was one of the skaters selected by the winners of our "Win a date with the derby girls" competition, so I got to eat my own bodyweight in <a href="http://www.burgerfuel.com/">Burger Fuel </a>vegetarian goodness whilst chatting with the winners, who happened to be some new skaters I'd skills tested the previous week. Contrary to any concerns I may have had, there was no awkwardness and it was really quite pleasant. That was fundraising night 1.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKn3Pqy443QEH98szcJ8mppLz63R1dN2vsgn3DwNFIM4dL6DfVQAdR37Q67kRBLFgV7UU3Wh8YZ-9WlFkVuSJD79Ij8I3u9cGJ9RBc1M-1h-rq8Lo5TggDm2DnTWdBvVQ-tRaTjQDbfBwz/s1600/460046_10150880195212287_306203927286_9475447_1094070709_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dba="true" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKn3Pqy443QEH98szcJ8mppLz63R1dN2vsgn3DwNFIM4dL6DfVQAdR37Q67kRBLFgV7UU3Wh8YZ-9WlFkVuSJD79Ij8I3u9cGJ9RBc1M-1h-rq8Lo5TggDm2DnTWdBvVQ-tRaTjQDbfBwz/s400/460046_10150880195212287_306203927286_9475447_1094070709_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prizewinners!</td></tr>
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Fundraising night 2 was a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/BBingo">Bitchin' Bingo night</a> to raise money to send our travel team to <a href="http://greatsouthernslam.com.au/">The Great Southern Slam</a>. As my team isn't playing the home season bout next weekend we were the ones driving this night out so I spent most of my afternoon buying food, slicing up bread, and setting up tables and a bar which was my domain for the night. It was a busy night and a great success, which made the hard work on a day off feel very much worth it. Afterwards I met up with a friend of mine from the motherland who's been doing the Great Kiwi Tiki Tour and was in Auckland before flying back to the UK. Here's where I almost get to the point of this entry. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Pirate City Rollers' Bitchin' Bingo Fundraiser" class="pbs fbEventPhoto profile-picture img" src="https://fbcdn-profile-a.akamaihd.net/hprofile-ak-snc4/276546_296638823752247_249888965_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was, as you'd expect, bitchin'</td></tr>
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Sunday is long run day in my marathon training plan and, as I've said, I'm sticking to that plan religiously. As a result, any drinks for me would have to be few and gentle. Also, my nasty habit of poncing cigarettes off people when I'm drunk is counter to my "BE ALL THE HEALTHY" mantra. It was not going to be easy. However, I managed to have two small glasses of cider and a diet coke, drive everyone home, stay smoke-free and fall into bed at 2am. I had a run scheduled at 10am. <br />
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And you know what? I woke up before my 8am alarm. I remembered I was meant to be running that morning. <em>And this thought made me incredibly happy. </em>I met my running buddy, we ran (slowly), had coffee, and it was fantastic. We had both bought trail-running shoes that week so it felt only fitting that we try them out around the Auckland domain. <br />
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Trail running is really hard compared to road running. The slippery surfaces, the weird cambers, it all adds up to slow progress. However, it's also great fun! Running with a buddy's good too, we both agreed that we'd pushed ourselves a little harder than we otherwise would have by ourselves, which was a good feeling. My buddy is younger, fitter and faster than me so I have to really work to keep up, but that's the point after all. <br />
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I'm not going to lie here. I find running hard. REALLY hard. I'm still trying to get my muscles used to it again after a few months away and I'm slow and I pant like I'm dying after five minutes but it's still awesome. I love the (currently very short) period when I start running before the gasping starts, when I feel like I can run forever. I like knowing that the more I stick at it, the longer that period will get. I love the warm achey feeling I get afterwards in my legs and shoulders, and how amazing a shower feels when I get home. I relish the loose, relaxed mood I get into a few hours afterwards, when everything just seems quite nice and I'm very contented with the world. Since I started running again I've become aware of how my mood has just....lifted. I'm eating better and sleeping better. I'm sure that if I maintain the positive attitude towards every training and focus on what I have done each time, rather than what I haven't, the next 23 weeks of training are going to go great. Next week I have 4 training runs (Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Sunday), two derby training sessions AND on Sunday morning I'm going to a bootcamp hosted by none other than <a href="http://www.bonniedstroir.com/">Bonnie D. Stroir</a>! Saturday night I'm helping at a league home bout, where again I shall not drink at the afterparty so I can skate for hours and then go for a run the next day.<br />
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Just as well I've got a lot of energy at the moment really!<br />
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Finally, my lovely friends in London have <a href="http://www.fundraiseonline.co.nz/RozSimpson/">sponsored me </a>a pound a mile for the marathon, taking me to a mighty $204 raised! Pickle thought that was worth a thank you note...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">DISCLAIMER: Rat may not have actually written note. She did try to eat the oil pastel though.</td></tr>
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<br />Irn Brujahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05903972289435999066noreply@blogger.com0