Hanging up my sneakers...

My body is betraying me.  It seems as though it’s falling to pieces, but I know I’m exaggerating.  Let me start at the beginning.

My relationship with running began approximately 12 years ago.  I was diagnosed with depression and given the news that I’m prone to it, so I would need to learn ways to cope with and deal with any episodes.  My psychologist recommended running, and cutting back on drinking.

After fighting her on the cutting back on drinking thing (the mere thought of doing that sent me spiralling into a black hole), I acquiesced and finally did it.  I cut back, and now that I’m older and out of the drinking crowd (and industry) I used to be in, I don’t miss it.  The running definitely helped and over the past 12 years it has never ceased to make me feel better.

I have never been a true runner.  I’m not a natural runner, so it’s always been a slog for me.  Something I’m constantly working on, and motivating myself to do.  It’s easy to get motivated when I’m staring down the barrel of another black dog period in my life.  Nothing gets me running faster than feeling hollow and wanting it all to be over.  Self-preservation kicks in and I force myself out the door and get running.

But something’s happened to my body along the way.  It would appear my neck and back just aren’t what they used to be and they take longer to recover from sleeping in the wrong position, picking up heavy things (read: Little Warrior and sometimes the Polynesian Princess), and running in shoes with no cushioning (I know.  Idiot).

Last year I had signed up to run in the Mother’s Day Fun Run and conveniently put my back out three days before the race.  I was told I would never run again, and I cried.  I found the mere notion of it very upsetting and I was determined to prove them wrong.  So I took it easy for the last year.  I started going for walks in the morning.  At first I hated it – didn’t think I was getting any benefit out of it, but I noticed that my moods were similar as if I had done a run.  I came back refreshed, happy and ready for the day.

Four weeks ago I decided to start running again.  The Architect says that this occurs each year when the Bridge to Brisbane rolls around and he could be right.  I tend to get fired up when there’s an event coming.  I see it as an excuse to get back into it again.  As if this one event will be the catalyst for making a lifestyle change.  It’s probably worth mentioning also that I am influenced by others.  So if others are talking about their running training, I tend to want to get back into it.

So I started again.  And for the past four weeks I have been plagued by neck, back and knee pain.  Mere coincidence?  I think not.  I know I’m not that old, but I’m getting tired of the hassle.  I'm also old enough to know that I need to listen to my body.

Whilst I enjoy running and the benefits, I now find myself leaning towards a walk around our neighbourhood or a bushwalk with friends.  It doesn’t help that I haven’t been able to fully look over my right shoulder for approximately four weeks.  Perhaps the ol’ fire and desire to run will come back.  But for now my relationship with running is on a break.

And it looks like they were right.  I probably won't run again.  But this time I'm not sad about it.

Have you had to listen to your body recently and give up a sport? 

Have a good day?

This time last week I was still on a high from doing my first ever trail-run.  I finally feel like my body has recovered after:

• seven days;
• one trigger point massage;
• one podiatrist appointment; and
• one osteopath appointment.

Yep.  Let's just say I'm not a natural runner and I really need to work at it.

My day began with some Sun Salutations, a run, more yoga and then meditation.  What an awesome way to start any day!  If I could start everyday this way, I think I would be one perpetually happy Mama Bear.


After a lunch-time nap to combat a niggling sore throat and ear (thanks Polynesian Princess - I'm pretty sure it's from you), I was ready for a high tea with friends.  Sigh.  Lovely.  Just a lovely afternoon, talking all things old and new.  And eating.  Yeah - working our way through three tiers of yumminess, pots of tea and sparkling wine.

The night saw us having fish & chips and the kids watching "Gruffalo's Child".  Again.  They're both asleep now and the house is quiet.  The only sound is me on the keyboard and some muted music from the party across the road.  Bliss.

So tell me.  Did you have a good day?  Cause I did.

It was good...

xx

How's your Saturday?

Powerful Owl trail with a view of Moreton Island. Beautiful...

How's your Saturday everyone?  Mine has been lovely.  Quiet and lovely and a little tough too.  I started the day with a trail run.  Truth be told I actually started the day with a Merlo Coffee and some Weet-Bix (breakfast of champions!) which was the 'quiet' and 'lovely' part.  The run came a little later in my morning.  And yes, that was the 'tough' part.

I've made a friend through Polynesian Princess's school.  I've made a few friends there and I anticipate having a great time getting to know these girls more.  One of them has been offering to take me for a trail run for weeks.  I (very nervously) accepted her offer as it's been a while since I've run.  But since last month I have been slowly re-entering my running world.  I say I 'nervously' accepted her offer because she runs up a mountain, and then down again. Regularly.

So it was with a little trepidation I started the run up Mt Coot-tha.  Within five minutes of running uphill I knew we weren't compatible running partners.  Where my friend could comfortably hold a conversation whilst simultaneously running UPHILL (I've mention that bit already, haven't I?) at a steady pace, I was barely able to concentrate on what was being said.  Every now and again I could puff out a "yeah, right!" but mostly I was burning.  Burning and dying.

But the best part was running down a track called Powerful Owl.  That was great.  Talk about feeling alive!  All my concentration was on staying upright as we zig-zagged down a steep dirt track.  Exhilarating and fun, I would happily do the run again in a heart-beat to relive that feeling.

When I run on my own, I'm running around my neighbourhood, so it's all roads, cars and houses.  Which I actually don't mind.  But running in the bush is different.  It's a truly enjoyable experience that I could definitely get used to.  It was so gorgeously quiet.  At one stage I actually thought somebody was playing drums.  I kept stopping and looking around me.  Nothing.  After the third time, I realised it was the sound of my heart pounding in my ears.  True story.

The rest of the day passed in a haze of happy.  Grocery shopping, more coffee with The Architect, and finishing off Mitch Albom's "Tuesdays with Morrie".  Enlightening, sobering and inspirational.

The day finished much like it started.  With a whole lot of loveliness.  The Architect made us pizzas for dinner and I foraged around in the back of the pantry and emerged triumphant with a bottle of red.

The Architect is currently getting both kids to bed and once he emerges, we'll settle down to watch a movie together.  Yes, it's been a lovely, lovely day.

How's yours been?  What are the plans for tomorrow?