4 miles(ish) knocked out at running club tonight. Relatively sensible eating all day. And an early night so I can get enough sleep for a change.
That's a bit more like it.
A very dry, blustery run tonight on the Downs - the kind of wind that seems to steal all the saliva from your mouth so you're constantly gasping for a drink. My running felt ok this evening, although I managed to be late to the meeting point (surprise, surprise - this is me we're talking about after all) so had to pelt across the grass to find out which way my group had gone, only to realise that they were in fact the group I'd just passed going the other way, so I had to hare back in the other direction after them, quick-smart. I therefore felt a bit blown to start with, but once I'd settled my breathing back down, I spent a bit of time concentrating on trying to loosen and lengthen my stride a bit.
Apparently, we're going to have another longish, steady run next week, before moving on to strides and other techniques the week after.
Interestingly, despite my weight being somewhat up at the moment, and back where it hasn't been since last year, I've clearly changed shape in the meantime. I put on a dress this morning, that I wore for my job interviews last September - a skin-tight fitted 40's style shift-dress - only to find that's it's still looser on me despite the additional pounds I'm currently packing. I think we'll have to put that down to my regular doses of Body Balance and torture, sorry, circuits, plus the running, for whittling a few bits that's weren't previously whittled.
In contrast to all that healthy well-behavedness above though, I've been looking into the existence of supper-clubs around Bristol. I've been hearing about them for a while and I'm intrigued by the concept of gourmet food at a stranger's house.
Of course, I've also been looking at possible events to enter over the summer, even though I swore I'd take it easy and enjoy having nothing to train for, for a bit.
Yin and yang, I guess. It all balances out in the end.
- Posted from my iPhone
Wednesday, 8 June 2011
Tuesday, 7 June 2011
Back on Track
A better day today, crawling back towards the healthy eating and exercise stuff that keeps this whole train on track.
I've resorted to an old school dinner - grilled chicken, runner beans and roasted squash ... and it was surprisingly lovely - the simple things can be great. On the flip-side, my breakfast experiment went a bit wrong, but not totally. We had nutrition guidance emailed through from our running PT's this week, and it had the now familiar words of wisdom about eating more whole foods, cutting back on processed and in particular wheat products, and avoiding low-fat foods.
Now - for most people not on diet, that last one probably wouldn't be an issue, but I'm reluctant to give up my low-fat stuff on the whole - it makes it a damn sight more difficult to keep in calorie deficit. However, some of the others, I'm halfway prepared to try - but I do loves me bread and convenience foods so this is tricky. On that basis, I decided to try and start with an easier meal: breakfast.
I'm not really a protein / savoury breakfast kind of girl - or at least not regularly and early in the morning. And cereal's not supposed to be the best. So I thought I'd try experimenting with proper porridge. I've had rolled oats in the cupboard for ages, but never really tried doing properly from scratch. A) I was surprised how easy it was to do - for some reason I thought it would be more complicated, but it was just like doing ready-done out of the sachet. B) Their cooking instructions suck, as it completly boiled over during the supposed second cooking period - lucky I caught it in time. C) Their portion sizes suck. They suggested a 50g portion of oats, which was massive, and when I compared to Weightwatchers they suggested a 30g portion which seems much more reasonable.
The over-sized 50g portion was ridiculously huge, and almost left me feeling too full this morning, for pretty much all the morning. It also came to a staggering 11 Pro-points. Ouch. Like the good little trooper I was though, I pointed it properly.
Spin class at lunch, done, and I'm heading off for some drinks with a friend in a bit .... sans alcohol ... there's been quite enough of that this week already, thank you very much!
I've resorted to an old school dinner - grilled chicken, runner beans and roasted squash ... and it was surprisingly lovely - the simple things can be great. On the flip-side, my breakfast experiment went a bit wrong, but not totally. We had nutrition guidance emailed through from our running PT's this week, and it had the now familiar words of wisdom about eating more whole foods, cutting back on processed and in particular wheat products, and avoiding low-fat foods.
Now - for most people not on diet, that last one probably wouldn't be an issue, but I'm reluctant to give up my low-fat stuff on the whole - it makes it a damn sight more difficult to keep in calorie deficit. However, some of the others, I'm halfway prepared to try - but I do loves me bread and convenience foods so this is tricky. On that basis, I decided to try and start with an easier meal: breakfast.
I'm not really a protein / savoury breakfast kind of girl - or at least not regularly and early in the morning. And cereal's not supposed to be the best. So I thought I'd try experimenting with proper porridge. I've had rolled oats in the cupboard for ages, but never really tried doing properly from scratch. A) I was surprised how easy it was to do - for some reason I thought it would be more complicated, but it was just like doing ready-done out of the sachet. B) Their cooking instructions suck, as it completly boiled over during the supposed second cooking period - lucky I caught it in time. C) Their portion sizes suck. They suggested a 50g portion of oats, which was massive, and when I compared to Weightwatchers they suggested a 30g portion which seems much more reasonable.
The over-sized 50g portion was ridiculously huge, and almost left me feeling too full this morning, for pretty much all the morning. It also came to a staggering 11 Pro-points. Ouch. Like the good little trooper I was though, I pointed it properly.
Spin class at lunch, done, and I'm heading off for some drinks with a friend in a bit .... sans alcohol ... there's been quite enough of that this week already, thank you very much!
Monday, 6 June 2011
Normal Service Resumed
After all the trials and tribulations of the weekend, it has been something of a relief to get back to the normal day-to-day routine of my week.
I've not been great with my food recently, but I've been taking baby steps over the last week or so to try and reverse that trend. Bank holiday weekends and various events haven't helped, as they've interrupted not only my eating routines, but also my exercise ones, as well as providing far too many opportunities for booze.
This weekend's eating, as already mentioned, was actually pretty restrained on the whole; where I totally fell down was the ol' demon alcohol. I pondered last week, the idea of giving up the booze for the next two weeks with the exception of Saturday, but really Saturday totally took the biscuit. Over the course of 16 hours, I consumed a hugely irresponsible amount of drink (hi, Liver, I'm really sorry about that - it's honestly nothing personal against you), and it was a frankly a miracle that I was still standing by the end of the night and not spewing my guts or lying in a gutter somewhere.
That said, I now really need to cut back. It's not big and it definitely doesn't make me clever. So I'm thinking this weekend is either going to be completely dry, or I give myself a (modest) allowance up front and stick to the damn thing like glue!!!
That way I could try something novel like hanging the eating and drinking together at the same time! Whaddaya know? It might even help me!
I've also been racking my brains since the end of last week, as to what my old eating habits were when I was successfully losing. I realise I've strayed off the beaten path a bit, and can't remember what I used to eat. I think there was more soup involved. And less starchy carbs. And a lot more tomato based sauces on both my pasta and my lean meat / carbs and veg dinners. So back to the drawing board we go.
I remembered eating butternut squash a lot more often, instead of potatoes, so I've picked one of those up. And I replaced my new pasta with wholewheat today. The next couple of days are roughly planned out, as I continue my slow crawl back to proper healthy eating.
The other thing I've noticed is my craving for all things sugar recently. Down to the point where I've been known to open the sugar jar and take one of the stuck clumps out and eat it like a sugar cube.
I am not a pony - I do not eat sugar cubes.
But I have got in the habit of expecting something seriously sugary after dinner. I'm trying to put a stop to that by forcing myself to wait 20 mins after I finish my dinner, and then decide if I still need something. They say you need 20 mins for your stomach to pass back the "I'm full" signals, and it's pretty much worked this evening.
Little baby steps.
I've not been great with my food recently, but I've been taking baby steps over the last week or so to try and reverse that trend. Bank holiday weekends and various events haven't helped, as they've interrupted not only my eating routines, but also my exercise ones, as well as providing far too many opportunities for booze.
This weekend's eating, as already mentioned, was actually pretty restrained on the whole; where I totally fell down was the ol' demon alcohol. I pondered last week, the idea of giving up the booze for the next two weeks with the exception of Saturday, but really Saturday totally took the biscuit. Over the course of 16 hours, I consumed a hugely irresponsible amount of drink (hi, Liver, I'm really sorry about that - it's honestly nothing personal against you), and it was a frankly a miracle that I was still standing by the end of the night and not spewing my guts or lying in a gutter somewhere.
That said, I now really need to cut back. It's not big and it definitely doesn't make me clever. So I'm thinking this weekend is either going to be completely dry, or I give myself a (modest) allowance up front and stick to the damn thing like glue!!!
That way I could try something novel like hanging the eating and drinking together at the same time! Whaddaya know? It might even help me!
I've also been racking my brains since the end of last week, as to what my old eating habits were when I was successfully losing. I realise I've strayed off the beaten path a bit, and can't remember what I used to eat. I think there was more soup involved. And less starchy carbs. And a lot more tomato based sauces on both my pasta and my lean meat / carbs and veg dinners. So back to the drawing board we go.
I remembered eating butternut squash a lot more often, instead of potatoes, so I've picked one of those up. And I replaced my new pasta with wholewheat today. The next couple of days are roughly planned out, as I continue my slow crawl back to proper healthy eating.
The other thing I've noticed is my craving for all things sugar recently. Down to the point where I've been known to open the sugar jar and take one of the stuck clumps out and eat it like a sugar cube.
I am not a pony - I do not eat sugar cubes.
But I have got in the habit of expecting something seriously sugary after dinner. I'm trying to put a stop to that by forcing myself to wait 20 mins after I finish my dinner, and then decide if I still need something. They say you need 20 mins for your stomach to pass back the "I'm full" signals, and it's pretty much worked this evening.
Little baby steps.
Duathlons and Dating Disasters - Pt 2
So I think I left you yesterday with Jo and myself sweaty but done at the finish line on the Downs, and me feeling an odd mix of triumphant at my finishing time and guilty that I'd lost Jo and selfishly not made more of an effort to relocate her.
We were a bit gutted to find that there were no medals for this race (what??? Don't judge me - I'm a novice at this - the finisher's bling is totally what it's all about!), but there were t-shirts and goody bags, and there would have been a free sports massage if I hadn't felt so seriously sweaty and gross. We decided that the best reward was back in my car, where I'd left a cool bag with more Lucozade and a bar of Galaxy each - spoils of victory! :o) These were consumed sat on the grass and stretching once the bikes were all packed away again.
Back at the flat, we cracked open a bottle of champagne once we'd showered off all the ming and dust (seriously - I had a crust of salt on my face because the wind had just blow-dried the sweat there - yuck!), and then headed out for a celebratory lunch in the sun with Pimms. Feeling absolutely shattered after that, we headed back to the flat for an afternoon of on-the-sofa-with-a-film.
And here is where it all started to go wrong. I didn't mention it on here, but a couple of weeks ago I met a guy. He's a friend of a friend, and it all took me a bit by surprise at the time, as I hadn't really twigged we were flirting all evening, until we were kissing. I know: I'm incompetent at distinguishing between general banter and someone actually flirting with me. He's lovely, and we click really pretty well - chatting endlessly and giggling - but it was all pretty doomed from the start, as he was moving to Perth (the one in Australia) in four weeks, and then there was the added complication that I knew my friend had a soft spot for him too.
The next day I found out it was worse than that - she full-blown really likes him, although he doesn't return that (she told him years ago and they were honest about it) and they are still good friends in spite of it. It took me a couple of days to work up to 'fessing up to her that we'd kissed, but I did it, and it turned out she'd guessed as much. It was bit awkward, but I think I won brownie points for being honest, and after a couple of days we were back to normal. The guy didn't live in Bristol anyway, so it was unlikely I'd see him again before he left - no problems.
Until the Sunday of the 10k a couple of weeks ago. That friend that we bumped into in the pub? That was Dan. And we ended up spending those next 2 days together - awesome fun days full of silly adventures and laughing together. Nothing much happened those two days in a romantic sense, but we had a brilliant time and there was still chemistry there (I guess that's what being suddenly sober will do for you). And it was also clear by the end of the 2nd day (given that he was meant to have left on Sunday and was still in Bristol on Tuesday) that my friend was really not amused. He finally went home, life returned to normal, he was leaving in 3 weeks time, and that was that.
It turned out he was back this weekend, for leaving drinks. Quiet drinks at the pub and I was invited - it sounded like just the laid-back evening Jo and I needed after our afternoon R & R - either that or we'd both be asleep by 8pm. Since that entire group of people are so friendly, but I don't know a lot of them that well, we decided to go for a drink or two and see how it went. We joined the group and just chatted to folks. We weren't sat at Dan's end of the table initially, as we were happily gabbing away with other folks, but he came up to see us after a bit. Which I suspect is about the time my friend turned up, when he'd squeezed onto the bench next to me. Ok, so maybe that didn't look so good, but I'm hardly going to avoid him at his own leaving drinks. The gins went down a little too easily after 2 hours of hard exercise in the morning, lunchtime drinking and no dinner, and soon enough everyone moved inside from the terrace - again I sat with my friend and Jo and didn't make any effort to crowd Dan - I spent most of the evening up to that point chatting to other people in fact. My friend was quiet but seemed fine.
At chucking out time, it was kind of inevitable that the crowd would want to go on out dancing. Jo's hip was sore from earlier and she was tired, but she told me quite plainly that she was happy to head back to the flat and crash if I wanted to go out and, in my cheerfully inebriated state, dancing appealed so I walked Jo home, made sure she had everything and agreed a time for breakfast in the morning, before heading out again to catch the others up.
Clue number one that something was wrong - when I got to the club my friend said "what are you doing here?". Not the normal response to seeing a close friend who's come back out. I realised that for some reason she wasn't glad to see me, and since she was dancing with yet another group of her friends who they'd bumped into, I retreated to the rest of the guys at the bar. Which in retrospect may have been a mistake. I was in Happy Drunk mode, which entails lots of silly dancing and generally being friendly and confident, even with people I don't know that well. Again, though, I didn't pester Dan, I stayed clear and let him come to me - I actually spent most of the evening with other people, partly mopping up a side-drama between a recently broken up couple who were out together for the first time since the split. At some point, I noticed my friend chatting to Dan at lenght, and then she left without saying goodbye to me. And still in HD mode, I glossed over it and kept dancing.
At the end of the night, Dan and I were the last ones left, and only after everyone else had gone did we kiss and head on for a late night drink elsewhere. But the thing is, it didn't go any further than that - he's leaving in a week, and besides Jo was waiting at home - two very good reasons for him to just walk me part-way home, and for us to say a slightly (drunk) emotional goodbye and go home. No looking back (well, maybe I looked back once, but then no looking back).
I honestly felt pretty sad, as I didn't think it was possible to feel you know someone so well after only a couple of days spent together, and I guess I'd felt pretty strong chemistry, but we'd been wary from the start knowing it couldn't go anywhere.
You can therefore imagine what a slap in the face it felt on Sunday morning (after about 5 hours sleep and still feeling considerably drunk and now miserable), to get a text from my friend cancelling our day's plans because of me "turning up to sleep with Dan" the night before. I was pretty gob-smacked. If she'd irrationally thought that whilst she was drunk the night before (as we all were), I could have understood her confronting me about it, but this was 11am the morning after.
It made me feel like I'd forced my company on the group, when I was invited, and also surprised that she had a low enough opinion of me to think that I'd abandon my guest, Jo, completely in favour of a quick shag. Wow.
After sending a carefully considered reply apologising that I'd upset her but explaining the situation correctly, I have to admit that I retreated for the day. I didn't want to talk to anyone, and I didn't want to think, so I spent all day curled up on the sofa in my PJ's watching trashy tv for distraction.
What really surprised me about the whole episode was my own response. I didn't fill the upset with food. I checked out for the day and found something else to distract me. Food provides temporary comfort, but doesn't stop you thinking about what you're feeling. The tv at least is total distraction, and can provide other emotions to cover the ones you're trying to avoid. I felt pretty proud of myself for taking a more considered approach to dealing with my emotions. I gave myself official permission to wallow for the day - to cosset myself and not do anything else, and although I did have a piece of cheesecake it was proper dessert after lunch, and I also ate fruit, veg, lean meat and plain carbs. Very little junk.
Once I started feeling a little more sane towards the evening, I went one step further. It's easier to feel good about yourself if you spoil yourself, so I took the time to re-colour my hair and make sure I had nice clothes clean for today.
Today I feel far better, although the scales are registering all that alcohol from Saturday. I'm more frustrated than anything, that a guy has come between my friend and I, and that this whole thing has happened. I think there's a little blame on both sides. I willfully misread the signs, I guess, and allowed the alcohol to blur my judgment that I was walking straight into a minefield, and I think on the other side my friend has over-reacted a bit. Just got to hope it all blows over now.
At least, this time, Dan's leaving sometime this week, and I won't be seeing him again. Story end.
Men: coming between good friends since history began.
*Sigh*.
We were a bit gutted to find that there were no medals for this race (what??? Don't judge me - I'm a novice at this - the finisher's bling is totally what it's all about!), but there were t-shirts and goody bags, and there would have been a free sports massage if I hadn't felt so seriously sweaty and gross. We decided that the best reward was back in my car, where I'd left a cool bag with more Lucozade and a bar of Galaxy each - spoils of victory! :o) These were consumed sat on the grass and stretching once the bikes were all packed away again.
Back at the flat, we cracked open a bottle of champagne once we'd showered off all the ming and dust (seriously - I had a crust of salt on my face because the wind had just blow-dried the sweat there - yuck!), and then headed out for a celebratory lunch in the sun with Pimms. Feeling absolutely shattered after that, we headed back to the flat for an afternoon of on-the-sofa-with-a-film.
And here is where it all started to go wrong. I didn't mention it on here, but a couple of weeks ago I met a guy. He's a friend of a friend, and it all took me a bit by surprise at the time, as I hadn't really twigged we were flirting all evening, until we were kissing. I know: I'm incompetent at distinguishing between general banter and someone actually flirting with me. He's lovely, and we click really pretty well - chatting endlessly and giggling - but it was all pretty doomed from the start, as he was moving to Perth (the one in Australia) in four weeks, and then there was the added complication that I knew my friend had a soft spot for him too.
The next day I found out it was worse than that - she full-blown really likes him, although he doesn't return that (she told him years ago and they were honest about it) and they are still good friends in spite of it. It took me a couple of days to work up to 'fessing up to her that we'd kissed, but I did it, and it turned out she'd guessed as much. It was bit awkward, but I think I won brownie points for being honest, and after a couple of days we were back to normal. The guy didn't live in Bristol anyway, so it was unlikely I'd see him again before he left - no problems.
Until the Sunday of the 10k a couple of weeks ago. That friend that we bumped into in the pub? That was Dan. And we ended up spending those next 2 days together - awesome fun days full of silly adventures and laughing together. Nothing much happened those two days in a romantic sense, but we had a brilliant time and there was still chemistry there (I guess that's what being suddenly sober will do for you). And it was also clear by the end of the 2nd day (given that he was meant to have left on Sunday and was still in Bristol on Tuesday) that my friend was really not amused. He finally went home, life returned to normal, he was leaving in 3 weeks time, and that was that.
It turned out he was back this weekend, for leaving drinks. Quiet drinks at the pub and I was invited - it sounded like just the laid-back evening Jo and I needed after our afternoon R & R - either that or we'd both be asleep by 8pm. Since that entire group of people are so friendly, but I don't know a lot of them that well, we decided to go for a drink or two and see how it went. We joined the group and just chatted to folks. We weren't sat at Dan's end of the table initially, as we were happily gabbing away with other folks, but he came up to see us after a bit. Which I suspect is about the time my friend turned up, when he'd squeezed onto the bench next to me. Ok, so maybe that didn't look so good, but I'm hardly going to avoid him at his own leaving drinks. The gins went down a little too easily after 2 hours of hard exercise in the morning, lunchtime drinking and no dinner, and soon enough everyone moved inside from the terrace - again I sat with my friend and Jo and didn't make any effort to crowd Dan - I spent most of the evening up to that point chatting to other people in fact. My friend was quiet but seemed fine.
At chucking out time, it was kind of inevitable that the crowd would want to go on out dancing. Jo's hip was sore from earlier and she was tired, but she told me quite plainly that she was happy to head back to the flat and crash if I wanted to go out and, in my cheerfully inebriated state, dancing appealed so I walked Jo home, made sure she had everything and agreed a time for breakfast in the morning, before heading out again to catch the others up.
Clue number one that something was wrong - when I got to the club my friend said "what are you doing here?". Not the normal response to seeing a close friend who's come back out. I realised that for some reason she wasn't glad to see me, and since she was dancing with yet another group of her friends who they'd bumped into, I retreated to the rest of the guys at the bar. Which in retrospect may have been a mistake. I was in Happy Drunk mode, which entails lots of silly dancing and generally being friendly and confident, even with people I don't know that well. Again, though, I didn't pester Dan, I stayed clear and let him come to me - I actually spent most of the evening with other people, partly mopping up a side-drama between a recently broken up couple who were out together for the first time since the split. At some point, I noticed my friend chatting to Dan at lenght, and then she left without saying goodbye to me. And still in HD mode, I glossed over it and kept dancing.
At the end of the night, Dan and I were the last ones left, and only after everyone else had gone did we kiss and head on for a late night drink elsewhere. But the thing is, it didn't go any further than that - he's leaving in a week, and besides Jo was waiting at home - two very good reasons for him to just walk me part-way home, and for us to say a slightly (drunk) emotional goodbye and go home. No looking back (well, maybe I looked back once, but then no looking back).
I honestly felt pretty sad, as I didn't think it was possible to feel you know someone so well after only a couple of days spent together, and I guess I'd felt pretty strong chemistry, but we'd been wary from the start knowing it couldn't go anywhere.
You can therefore imagine what a slap in the face it felt on Sunday morning (after about 5 hours sleep and still feeling considerably drunk and now miserable), to get a text from my friend cancelling our day's plans because of me "turning up to sleep with Dan" the night before. I was pretty gob-smacked. If she'd irrationally thought that whilst she was drunk the night before (as we all were), I could have understood her confronting me about it, but this was 11am the morning after.
It made me feel like I'd forced my company on the group, when I was invited, and also surprised that she had a low enough opinion of me to think that I'd abandon my guest, Jo, completely in favour of a quick shag. Wow.
After sending a carefully considered reply apologising that I'd upset her but explaining the situation correctly, I have to admit that I retreated for the day. I didn't want to talk to anyone, and I didn't want to think, so I spent all day curled up on the sofa in my PJ's watching trashy tv for distraction.
What really surprised me about the whole episode was my own response. I didn't fill the upset with food. I checked out for the day and found something else to distract me. Food provides temporary comfort, but doesn't stop you thinking about what you're feeling. The tv at least is total distraction, and can provide other emotions to cover the ones you're trying to avoid. I felt pretty proud of myself for taking a more considered approach to dealing with my emotions. I gave myself official permission to wallow for the day - to cosset myself and not do anything else, and although I did have a piece of cheesecake it was proper dessert after lunch, and I also ate fruit, veg, lean meat and plain carbs. Very little junk.
Once I started feeling a little more sane towards the evening, I went one step further. It's easier to feel good about yourself if you spoil yourself, so I took the time to re-colour my hair and make sure I had nice clothes clean for today.
Today I feel far better, although the scales are registering all that alcohol from Saturday. I'm more frustrated than anything, that a guy has come between my friend and I, and that this whole thing has happened. I think there's a little blame on both sides. I willfully misread the signs, I guess, and allowed the alcohol to blur my judgment that I was walking straight into a minefield, and I think on the other side my friend has over-reacted a bit. Just got to hope it all blows over now.
At least, this time, Dan's leaving sometime this week, and I won't be seeing him again. Story end.
Men: coming between good friends since history began.
*Sigh*.
Sunday, 5 June 2011
Duathlons and Dating Distasters: Pt 1
I'm not sure I even know where to start. This weekend has been a rollercoaster of emotions (and the odd accomplishment), and has left me feeing about as rung out as an old, grey dishcloth.
Along the way, I've discovered a few things about myself; some good, some bad and some surprising.
We had a lovely dinner at the flat on Friday night - Jo, Hannah and myself. Lots of laughing, lots of smiles, and a bit too much food. I mistakenly bought crisps and dips for us to eat whilst dinner was cooking - definitely an error bought on by frantic last minute shopping whilst I was hungry on Friday night before shooting home to find Jo already arrived and waiting. This much I have now learned - there's no point doing a nice healthy dinner and staying off the booze the night before a sporting event, if you then chow down a shitload of crisps and dips - it will not give you energy in the morning. Big surprise.
After some last minute tinkering with the bikes after Hannah had gone, we loaded them into the car and then headed for our respective beds. Considering how nervous and unprepared I was feeling, I very surprised how well I slept on Friday night, and the alarm at 6.45 was all too soon.
We managed to get sorted on Saturday morning without too much faffage, and got up to the Downs pretty much on time. We were quite surprised how small the event was though - coming straight from the giant RunBristol with its 12,000 strong field 3 weeks ago to this was a bit of a shock. I would conservatively say there were about 100 or so women taking part, and pretty much all of them looked scarily fit. And those that didn't look as fit were all doing the novice distance, rather than the challenge one we'd signed up for. Gulp.
Oh well - Jo and I had agreed we'd take our time and enjoy it, so we weren't ready to back out yet - we plonked ourselves at the back of the field and when the horn went we let everyone else stream away from us. They started the race in 2 waves - the challenge competitors starting 3 minutes ahead of the novice field.
This had a pretty depressing effect for us, because it meant that not only did most of our set shoot off and leave us in the dust, but after about 10 mins or so, the fastest of the novice runners started overtaking us, and we knew they were only going one lap of the running course.
We were actually really lucky with the weather as it was a clear, sunny day with a breeze to cool things down - the only problem was that because of where we were running on the Downs there was a section right by the cliffs that had a massive headwind just as you were slogging up the incline. The first loop of the running felt awful. Dinner from Friday night was sitting like lead, my legs felt much the same and I just generally felt like someone had drained my battery, which is possibly the worst feeling to start the longest race of your life to date with!
Still, we plodded stubbornly round, and at least the running loop was quite pretty - once you got past the Death Section with all the wind, we circled the bottom part of the Downs on tree-lined roads and then across the centre on a path and back to the start. They'd set the course so that we ran on trails and paths, and then cycled a longer loop on closed roads outside of the running circuit. Heading back to the start to begin our second lap running, we saw we were on about 16 mins, so although it felt slow, I was actually running at my normal pace.
Now we had the added depression of the novice competitors starting to whizz past us on their bikes. Do you know how slow you feel when you're plodding / running and other people are cycling?? It's very bloody slow! There were a couple of fallers during the run from the only people going roughly our speed, so it meant that going into transition was quite demoralising because there were literally only 4 other bikes left besides ours. On the upside, that made it pretty damn easy to find the bikes and get in and out!
Because of the heat, I'd really regretting leaving my running bottle in the bag and not having a drink during the first 5k, so I was super grateful for my still cool Lucozade on my bike and a small bag of Jelly Babies I'd also stashed. My stomach was feeling a bit more settled by the end of the run, so the Jelly Babies gave me the final pick-me-up I needed, and getting on the bike felt great after trudging round the grass. I was even starting to overtake a few people here and there. The problem now became keeping in contact with Jo, and it was quite crowded and riding 2 abreast is forbidden.
Somewhere in the middle of the cycling, I clearly just zoned out and started enjoying churning the gears, as I suddenly realised that I'd pulled away from Jo. Going round the far turnaround points on laps 3 and 4 I realised she was a good minute or so behind me, but figured she'd catch me up in transition and the 2nd run.
Very rough calculations whilst on the bike made me guess I was lapping around 14 mins a 5km loop, which was a bit quicker than I'd hoped for, so I was pretty pleased with how the time was going, given I was expecting the 2nd run to be much slower. And boy, was I right. Getting off and running again was murder! For a start, I stupidly forgot to take my helmet off, so had to run back into transition and just lobbed it by the fence. And I had definitely forgotten how hard running after a bike ride is! The idea of another two laps (not to mention that the first bit of the run was back in the headwind again) felt insurmountable.
I could see a few folks in front of me walking, but I knew that if I could just run for the first 10 mins, my legs would start to feel more human and less cotton-wool again. So I doggedly plodded on, over-taking another 2 people as I did. I told myself I just needed to run as far as the water-station halfway round the lap, then I could walk for a bit. At the water-station it waas the flat easy section back across the common, so I thought maybe just run to the end of the first lap, and then I could chill going back into the head wind again. And oddly enough, by the end of the first lap, I was feeling a little better. Tired but ok. Just the final 2.5k lap to go. Still running (-ish - more slow jogging), just telling myself to keep going, just get to the water station again, sneaking another look at my watch, think just another 10 mins of this and you're done. Just keep going. Come on, you can run to the end now - so close.
I went into the race with no expectations of time. Just to finish would be great. We reckoned that we'd be done in 2:30 tops, but I thought maybe closer to 2:15 would be the aim. Now looking at my watch, I was thinking 2:10 was do-able. Jo hadn't caught me up on the run which surprised me. I'd seen her coming round the final corner on her bike as I'd started my run, so I knew she wasn't far behind, and everytime I heard footsteps I thought it might be her. I even tried to look back on my second lap, but couldn't see her anywhere behind me. In that situation, I felt bad, because we'd said we'd do it together, but short of stopping altogether and waiting I wasn't sure what to do apart from continue and do the best I could now.
I crossed the line in 2:08. 10k of running with a 20k bike ride in the middle. And I ran the whole 10k, which was definitely more than I was expecting. Even more surprising was I didn't feel terrible at the end - tired, but not sick like RunBristol. Jo finally turned up at 2:15 - it turned out her new trainers had given her a bad blister on her right foot, and it had burst sometime on the second run, so she'd ended up having to walk a lot of it.
I felt bad for not having been with her, but also realised later that there would have been nothing I could have done to help apart from be there.
No medals from this race, and no photos at the moment, although official ones go up tomorrow. But a small sense of accomplishment at challenging myself and doing it.
Along the way, I've discovered a few things about myself; some good, some bad and some surprising.
We had a lovely dinner at the flat on Friday night - Jo, Hannah and myself. Lots of laughing, lots of smiles, and a bit too much food. I mistakenly bought crisps and dips for us to eat whilst dinner was cooking - definitely an error bought on by frantic last minute shopping whilst I was hungry on Friday night before shooting home to find Jo already arrived and waiting. This much I have now learned - there's no point doing a nice healthy dinner and staying off the booze the night before a sporting event, if you then chow down a shitload of crisps and dips - it will not give you energy in the morning. Big surprise.
After some last minute tinkering with the bikes after Hannah had gone, we loaded them into the car and then headed for our respective beds. Considering how nervous and unprepared I was feeling, I very surprised how well I slept on Friday night, and the alarm at 6.45 was all too soon.
We managed to get sorted on Saturday morning without too much faffage, and got up to the Downs pretty much on time. We were quite surprised how small the event was though - coming straight from the giant RunBristol with its 12,000 strong field 3 weeks ago to this was a bit of a shock. I would conservatively say there were about 100 or so women taking part, and pretty much all of them looked scarily fit. And those that didn't look as fit were all doing the novice distance, rather than the challenge one we'd signed up for. Gulp.
Oh well - Jo and I had agreed we'd take our time and enjoy it, so we weren't ready to back out yet - we plonked ourselves at the back of the field and when the horn went we let everyone else stream away from us. They started the race in 2 waves - the challenge competitors starting 3 minutes ahead of the novice field.
This had a pretty depressing effect for us, because it meant that not only did most of our set shoot off and leave us in the dust, but after about 10 mins or so, the fastest of the novice runners started overtaking us, and we knew they were only going one lap of the running course.
We were actually really lucky with the weather as it was a clear, sunny day with a breeze to cool things down - the only problem was that because of where we were running on the Downs there was a section right by the cliffs that had a massive headwind just as you were slogging up the incline. The first loop of the running felt awful. Dinner from Friday night was sitting like lead, my legs felt much the same and I just generally felt like someone had drained my battery, which is possibly the worst feeling to start the longest race of your life to date with!
Still, we plodded stubbornly round, and at least the running loop was quite pretty - once you got past the Death Section with all the wind, we circled the bottom part of the Downs on tree-lined roads and then across the centre on a path and back to the start. They'd set the course so that we ran on trails and paths, and then cycled a longer loop on closed roads outside of the running circuit. Heading back to the start to begin our second lap running, we saw we were on about 16 mins, so although it felt slow, I was actually running at my normal pace.
Now we had the added depression of the novice competitors starting to whizz past us on their bikes. Do you know how slow you feel when you're plodding / running and other people are cycling?? It's very bloody slow! There were a couple of fallers during the run from the only people going roughly our speed, so it meant that going into transition was quite demoralising because there were literally only 4 other bikes left besides ours. On the upside, that made it pretty damn easy to find the bikes and get in and out!
Because of the heat, I'd really regretting leaving my running bottle in the bag and not having a drink during the first 5k, so I was super grateful for my still cool Lucozade on my bike and a small bag of Jelly Babies I'd also stashed. My stomach was feeling a bit more settled by the end of the run, so the Jelly Babies gave me the final pick-me-up I needed, and getting on the bike felt great after trudging round the grass. I was even starting to overtake a few people here and there. The problem now became keeping in contact with Jo, and it was quite crowded and riding 2 abreast is forbidden.
Somewhere in the middle of the cycling, I clearly just zoned out and started enjoying churning the gears, as I suddenly realised that I'd pulled away from Jo. Going round the far turnaround points on laps 3 and 4 I realised she was a good minute or so behind me, but figured she'd catch me up in transition and the 2nd run.
Very rough calculations whilst on the bike made me guess I was lapping around 14 mins a 5km loop, which was a bit quicker than I'd hoped for, so I was pretty pleased with how the time was going, given I was expecting the 2nd run to be much slower. And boy, was I right. Getting off and running again was murder! For a start, I stupidly forgot to take my helmet off, so had to run back into transition and just lobbed it by the fence. And I had definitely forgotten how hard running after a bike ride is! The idea of another two laps (not to mention that the first bit of the run was back in the headwind again) felt insurmountable.
I could see a few folks in front of me walking, but I knew that if I could just run for the first 10 mins, my legs would start to feel more human and less cotton-wool again. So I doggedly plodded on, over-taking another 2 people as I did. I told myself I just needed to run as far as the water-station halfway round the lap, then I could walk for a bit. At the water-station it waas the flat easy section back across the common, so I thought maybe just run to the end of the first lap, and then I could chill going back into the head wind again. And oddly enough, by the end of the first lap, I was feeling a little better. Tired but ok. Just the final 2.5k lap to go. Still running (-ish - more slow jogging), just telling myself to keep going, just get to the water station again, sneaking another look at my watch, think just another 10 mins of this and you're done. Just keep going. Come on, you can run to the end now - so close.
I went into the race with no expectations of time. Just to finish would be great. We reckoned that we'd be done in 2:30 tops, but I thought maybe closer to 2:15 would be the aim. Now looking at my watch, I was thinking 2:10 was do-able. Jo hadn't caught me up on the run which surprised me. I'd seen her coming round the final corner on her bike as I'd started my run, so I knew she wasn't far behind, and everytime I heard footsteps I thought it might be her. I even tried to look back on my second lap, but couldn't see her anywhere behind me. In that situation, I felt bad, because we'd said we'd do it together, but short of stopping altogether and waiting I wasn't sure what to do apart from continue and do the best I could now.
I crossed the line in 2:08. 10k of running with a 20k bike ride in the middle. And I ran the whole 10k, which was definitely more than I was expecting. Even more surprising was I didn't feel terrible at the end - tired, but not sick like RunBristol. Jo finally turned up at 2:15 - it turned out her new trainers had given her a bad blister on her right foot, and it had burst sometime on the second run, so she'd ended up having to walk a lot of it.
I felt bad for not having been with her, but also realised later that there would have been nothing I could have done to help apart from be there.
No medals from this race, and no photos at the moment, although official ones go up tomorrow. But a small sense of accomplishment at challenging myself and doing it.
Friday, 3 June 2011
New Challenges
Ok, so only a lb down this week from last, but I had a think about it and made my peace with it. It's taken time this week to drag my eating back closer to where it should be. And I was a bit lower on Thursday, so I jut need to keep making steady little baby steps to improve my eating and exercise.
I went to my second surf club meeting last night and officially joined up for the next year. And since I'm now a member, I also went ahead and booked myself onto the teaching session in Bude next weekend - yeehaaa!
So tomorrow is my first ever duathlon. Gulp!! BIG gulp!! I feel pretty much totally unprepared for this experience and Jo and I have to keep reassuring ourselves that we'll take it easy and just concentrate on enjoying ourselves and finishing.
I'm not really properly organised, although at least the bike has now made it into the car, complete with its shiny new bottle cage attached, and I've remembered to pick up Lucozade and Jelly Babies to portion out for tomorrow. I figured any event that's going to take longer than 2 hours is going to need more than just water.
We've probably eaten rather too much this evening - dinner would have been fine on its own but Jo, Hannah and myself tucked into the chips and dip before hand .... just going to have to burn it all off tomorrow!
I shall return later with a handy-dandy little "race" report to tell you how it all went!!
- Posted from my iPhone
I went to my second surf club meeting last night and officially joined up for the next year. And since I'm now a member, I also went ahead and booked myself onto the teaching session in Bude next weekend - yeehaaa!
So tomorrow is my first ever duathlon. Gulp!! BIG gulp!! I feel pretty much totally unprepared for this experience and Jo and I have to keep reassuring ourselves that we'll take it easy and just concentrate on enjoying ourselves and finishing.
I'm not really properly organised, although at least the bike has now made it into the car, complete with its shiny new bottle cage attached, and I've remembered to pick up Lucozade and Jelly Babies to portion out for tomorrow. I figured any event that's going to take longer than 2 hours is going to need more than just water.
We've probably eaten rather too much this evening - dinner would have been fine on its own but Jo, Hannah and myself tucked into the chips and dip before hand .... just going to have to burn it all off tomorrow!
I shall return later with a handy-dandy little "race" report to tell you how it all went!!
- Posted from my iPhone
Thursday, 2 June 2011
Creeping Back From The Edge
Ok - so another day of eating that was somewhere close(ish) to where it was meant to be; this is almost getting to be some kind of habit. Oh no, wait, that's what it's meant to be!
I enjoyed my lunchbreak sat out in the sun today, which was glorious, but I did have a sodding big slice of banana flapjack with it. The problem with being catastrophically broke, and attempting to stick to your budget with it, is there gets to be points in the week where the fridge is well and truly empty. Right now, I have ... well, not a lot at all ... in the fridge. Which meant no yoghurts to take to work. So somehow I ended up with flapjack. Anyway, it was pointed and it tasted pretty fricking good, so maybe I can make it all work for me.
The funny thing with today though, was that there have been a couple of instances of things that have made me think "whoah - I really want to get this whole thing back on track!". Maybe it's the onset of summer when everyone's out playing and lounging in Queen's Square on the way home and the first signs of tops being removed are in evidence. Maybe it was thinking about how it'll be nice not to feel self-conscious at the surfing club when I finally get to a teaching session.
Maybe it was just a result of that heady endorphin rush after running last night, which had be driving back across the downs and home with a big grin on my face in the evening sunshine. No idea, but it's good to have.
So despite being super-hungry at dinner this evening, I forced myself to stop after I'd eaten my lovely poached eggs on English muffin, and go and sit on the sofa for 20 mins and digest, before I lobbed an extra muffin in the toaster .... I thought maybe I'd be revelationary and let my stomach work out whether it had had enough before I continued to feed it! And whaddya know? I had had enough. I seriously need to work on this whole portion control thing.
I'm off now to go and officially join the surf club, and see if it's not too late to try and book myself on to next week's Bude trip.
Ta ta, lovelies!
I enjoyed my lunchbreak sat out in the sun today, which was glorious, but I did have a sodding big slice of banana flapjack with it. The problem with being catastrophically broke, and attempting to stick to your budget with it, is there gets to be points in the week where the fridge is well and truly empty. Right now, I have ... well, not a lot at all ... in the fridge. Which meant no yoghurts to take to work. So somehow I ended up with flapjack. Anyway, it was pointed and it tasted pretty fricking good, so maybe I can make it all work for me.
The funny thing with today though, was that there have been a couple of instances of things that have made me think "whoah - I really want to get this whole thing back on track!". Maybe it's the onset of summer when everyone's out playing and lounging in Queen's Square on the way home and the first signs of tops being removed are in evidence. Maybe it was thinking about how it'll be nice not to feel self-conscious at the surfing club when I finally get to a teaching session.
Maybe it was just a result of that heady endorphin rush after running last night, which had be driving back across the downs and home with a big grin on my face in the evening sunshine. No idea, but it's good to have.
So despite being super-hungry at dinner this evening, I forced myself to stop after I'd eaten my lovely poached eggs on English muffin, and go and sit on the sofa for 20 mins and digest, before I lobbed an extra muffin in the toaster .... I thought maybe I'd be revelationary and let my stomach work out whether it had had enough before I continued to feed it! And whaddya know? I had had enough. I seriously need to work on this whole portion control thing.
I'm off now to go and officially join the surf club, and see if it's not too late to try and book myself on to next week's Bude trip.
Ta ta, lovelies!
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