I received an email this morning which read "The Mount Desert Island Marathon is 95 days away."
AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Okay, let's have a look at this:
I'm nearly over a rather nasty injury.
I've had six weeks on the bench doing nothing more strenuous than swimming anda light jog.
As a grizzly bear by nature, getting up in the morning to run is as foreign to me as wearing pink and calling myself Talullah.
This means in ninety days I will be taking off for the chilly climate of the North Eastern USA - for a start.
Calm down, Pandora.
After last night's missal I've made a few decisions.
I'm going to be nice to myself. No more beating myself up, what will be, will be.
Eat good.
Exercise safely and daily.
Drink nothing stronger than coffee.
I can run walk the 42.2 kilometres. I'm going to contact the organisers and shift to the walk. Reindert can start with the runners and catch me up. It will be okay. I'm a warrior woman.
Breathe more.
Worry less.
Spend twenty minutes a day meditating.
With these decisions the sore throat began to abate.
Next fix, work.
This is a transient period. Keep busy. Don't stress. What ever happens, I'm employable, and I've only ever been unemployed for six weeks of my life. There's a few tarot and writing jobs coming up to keep myself occupied. I'm safe, even if not fully engaged.
There, that feels better. See, the throat is nearly mended. Just the last bit to go.
Lastly, Lachlan.
What does one say to somebody who appears to take great delight in messing the other person around?
Something like this:
Dear Lachlan,
We've been tippytoeing around eachother for the last fifteen years. For the last ten of those years you've been keeping me on a long leash, coming and going as you please, making empty promises for visits, forever asking when I will be coming over, never actually keeping your word, but also never actually letting me go.
Well, stop it - I'm over it. You know where I live. You want to see me? Come find me - I'm sick of being at your beck and call.
I deserve better. People who don't like me treat me with more respect. I'm not a toy which you can pick up and put down as you please.
Sort yourself out, decide what you want, but don't drag me into your despair any more - I don't want it and I certainly don't need you if you're going to persist in treating me like a whipping post or unwanted Christmas puppy.
I've plenty of other people to spend time with in England when I get there.
And I swallow, the sore throat has gone away. I can breathe calmly and deeply.
Existential crisis over.
Pand
Showing posts with label Marathon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marathon. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Sunday, May 30, 2010
The Warrior Woman
I am a Warrior Woman.
It's not something I admit to very often, but I am she. I am strong. I have stamina. I have endurance. I can go further, faster, longer, stronger than most. I have the physical, mental and emotional strength to do ANYTHING.
Today, I ran 21.1 kilometres. I ran the distance. I didn't walk. I didn't stop. I started grumpy, snotty and a bit stiff at 8.20 in the morning. Two hours, thirty four minutes and a handful of seconds later, I crossed the finish line.
AND I RAN THE WHOLE WAY!
It nearly didn't happen. After a kilometre, right at the start, the last thing I wanted to do was run around Williamstown. Blah - didn't want to do it. Silly thing to do. Fools errand. Bloody Reindert, making me get up at 5.45 to drop him at the marathon start at 7 am. My mind is screaming 'Turn around, go back and read your book in the car. Go on," I tell myself.
But I keep running.
Then the stroke of luck happened. About the three kilometre mark I met up with Stuart and Margaret. Stuart is a marathon veteran, returning to running after injury. Margaret was two days off her sixtieth birthday. They were chugging along quite nicely and I asked if I could run with them for a bit. Lovely people, easy to chat to. Here was me, with my tactic of run five minutes walk two all the way around. After ten minute of running with them I think, ah, keep plodding away, they're nice, they're at a comfortable pace. Keep going.
There is no shame running with some of these oldies. A lot of them will leave you for dead. I have no illusions that I am fast - I just like doing the distance. I get a lot of strength from these older women who chug along at the back of races. They all have their own stories - they re just as courageous as the guys up the front. As a novice, it's just nice to find people who run at your slow pace.
We reach the seven kilometre mark in fifty minutes. Stuart tells us that we're on track for a 2.30 time. What? Me? Half marathon in two hours thirty. Nah. I quit the urge to walk and keep shuffling away at a steady seven minute kilometre pace.
Got to the ten kilometre mark in just under 72 minutes - the last ten kilometre run I did in December I made it in 74 minutes. Okay, I tell myself to keep running. Personal best for a ten kilometres. I'm tracking well. Breathing is good, legs are holding up. Feet feel fresh.
I let out a banshee scream then. It's dawning on me that the training is beginning to pay off.
I see Reindert running from the other direction around the thirteen kilometre mark - with the circular track he had to do that last eight kilometre loop three times - thankfully we only had to do it once - He's running well.. Stuart and Margaret are still with me. I have to keep going, though I keep threatening to walk every ten minutes or so.
Reindert passes us around the fifteen kilometre mark. Watching him from behind he looks a little tired, but fine, and very thin. I haven't noticed this before. I introduce him to Stuart and Margaret. By this stage Reindert has run 35 kilometres. Freak.
Sixteen kilometre mark all I want to do is walk. Stuart stops me from doing this. He reminds me it's all downhilll from here, and to keep going. He reminds me running is all mental. He also tells me that if I walk I will continue to walk. "Keep on shuffling," he says, "You're looking fine."
I keep on running.
Margaret then tells me, "You have to run now. You're a warrior. You can do anything. You take up running at forty. You've overcome neglect, abuse, poor self image, no self esteem, obesity.... All the bad crap. You have to honour the warrior woman. The warrior who made you strong. The warrior who makes you happy.To walk would be a travesty. Honour the her. Honour you."
I kept running.
The last kilometre is always bittersweet. Margaret reminds me that it's only another five minutes of running (well,seven) and it's all over. You can feel every muscle in your body. Yet you find something in the tank to keep on going, and go faster. And some stupid part of you would like to continue.
Reindert meets me a hundred metres from the finish line. He finished in 3.12. He's also dragging a leg, which is not a good thing.
I finish. Five minutes have come off my personal best time for the half marathon. And I have run all the way, without stopping, without walking, without breaking down, without doing myself and injury. And without bailing as I was tempted to do ten minutes in.
I let out another banshee cry. I have conquered the 21.1 kilometre run. I have run for over two hours and thirty minutes. I can still walk, breathe, talk, sing.
Non-runners will never experience the exhillaration of battling a half marathon. It is the best feeling in the world.
Reindert, Stuart and Margaret - if you're reading this, I cannot thank you enough for your generosity, your advice, your encouragement, your wisdom and your presence on the run. I doubt I would have run this time without you.
Ten minutes later after a decent stretch and a visit to the dunny bus, Reindert and I pop over to Blarney and Barney's to see the boys who live a short distance from the race. A bag of frozen peas is strapped to Reindert's leg. Blarney feeds us a cup of tea and some biscuits, and I'm given my favorite cat to cuddle and a baby to feed.
The perfect ending to a fantastic morning.
I'll come off Cloud Eleven in a few days. I've managed to smash so many perceptions of myself in a two and a half hour period today.
This is why I run. This is why I will continue to run. It's the best feeling in the world.
Pandora Behr - Warrior Woman
It's not something I admit to very often, but I am she. I am strong. I have stamina. I have endurance. I can go further, faster, longer, stronger than most. I have the physical, mental and emotional strength to do ANYTHING.
Today, I ran 21.1 kilometres. I ran the distance. I didn't walk. I didn't stop. I started grumpy, snotty and a bit stiff at 8.20 in the morning. Two hours, thirty four minutes and a handful of seconds later, I crossed the finish line.
AND I RAN THE WHOLE WAY!
It nearly didn't happen. After a kilometre, right at the start, the last thing I wanted to do was run around Williamstown. Blah - didn't want to do it. Silly thing to do. Fools errand. Bloody Reindert, making me get up at 5.45 to drop him at the marathon start at 7 am. My mind is screaming 'Turn around, go back and read your book in the car. Go on," I tell myself.
But I keep running.
Then the stroke of luck happened. About the three kilometre mark I met up with Stuart and Margaret. Stuart is a marathon veteran, returning to running after injury. Margaret was two days off her sixtieth birthday. They were chugging along quite nicely and I asked if I could run with them for a bit. Lovely people, easy to chat to. Here was me, with my tactic of run five minutes walk two all the way around. After ten minute of running with them I think, ah, keep plodding away, they're nice, they're at a comfortable pace. Keep going.
There is no shame running with some of these oldies. A lot of them will leave you for dead. I have no illusions that I am fast - I just like doing the distance. I get a lot of strength from these older women who chug along at the back of races. They all have their own stories - they re just as courageous as the guys up the front. As a novice, it's just nice to find people who run at your slow pace.
We reach the seven kilometre mark in fifty minutes. Stuart tells us that we're on track for a 2.30 time. What? Me? Half marathon in two hours thirty. Nah. I quit the urge to walk and keep shuffling away at a steady seven minute kilometre pace.
Got to the ten kilometre mark in just under 72 minutes - the last ten kilometre run I did in December I made it in 74 minutes. Okay, I tell myself to keep running. Personal best for a ten kilometres. I'm tracking well. Breathing is good, legs are holding up. Feet feel fresh.
I let out a banshee scream then. It's dawning on me that the training is beginning to pay off.
I see Reindert running from the other direction around the thirteen kilometre mark - with the circular track he had to do that last eight kilometre loop three times - thankfully we only had to do it once - He's running well.. Stuart and Margaret are still with me. I have to keep going, though I keep threatening to walk every ten minutes or so.
Reindert passes us around the fifteen kilometre mark. Watching him from behind he looks a little tired, but fine, and very thin. I haven't noticed this before. I introduce him to Stuart and Margaret. By this stage Reindert has run 35 kilometres. Freak.
Sixteen kilometre mark all I want to do is walk. Stuart stops me from doing this. He reminds me it's all downhilll from here, and to keep going. He reminds me running is all mental. He also tells me that if I walk I will continue to walk. "Keep on shuffling," he says, "You're looking fine."
I keep on running.
Margaret then tells me, "You have to run now. You're a warrior. You can do anything. You take up running at forty. You've overcome neglect, abuse, poor self image, no self esteem, obesity.... All the bad crap. You have to honour the warrior woman. The warrior who made you strong. The warrior who makes you happy.To walk would be a travesty. Honour the her. Honour you."
I kept running.
The last kilometre is always bittersweet. Margaret reminds me that it's only another five minutes of running (well,seven) and it's all over. You can feel every muscle in your body. Yet you find something in the tank to keep on going, and go faster. And some stupid part of you would like to continue.
Reindert meets me a hundred metres from the finish line. He finished in 3.12. He's also dragging a leg, which is not a good thing.
I finish. Five minutes have come off my personal best time for the half marathon. And I have run all the way, without stopping, without walking, without breaking down, without doing myself and injury. And without bailing as I was tempted to do ten minutes in.
I let out another banshee cry. I have conquered the 21.1 kilometre run. I have run for over two hours and thirty minutes. I can still walk, breathe, talk, sing.
Non-runners will never experience the exhillaration of battling a half marathon. It is the best feeling in the world.
Reindert, Stuart and Margaret - if you're reading this, I cannot thank you enough for your generosity, your advice, your encouragement, your wisdom and your presence on the run. I doubt I would have run this time without you.
Ten minutes later after a decent stretch and a visit to the dunny bus, Reindert and I pop over to Blarney and Barney's to see the boys who live a short distance from the race. A bag of frozen peas is strapped to Reindert's leg. Blarney feeds us a cup of tea and some biscuits, and I'm given my favorite cat to cuddle and a baby to feed.
The perfect ending to a fantastic morning.
I'll come off Cloud Eleven in a few days. I've managed to smash so many perceptions of myself in a two and a half hour period today.
This is why I run. This is why I will continue to run. It's the best feeling in the world.
Pandora Behr - Warrior Woman
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Nine Months
A lot can be achieved in nine months. A human gestates in that time. Three seasons go by. A school year.
In nine months to the day I will be running my very first marathon. On 17 October, I will be in Bar Harbour, Maine, USA competing in the Mount Desert Island Marathon - with Freaky Running Ex Boss by my side. I can't keep calling him Freaky Running Ex Boss - I hereby rename him Reindert. Good Dutch name. Reindert has been a wonderful coach - I'm just chuffed he's asked me to do this.
And I have to use those airline tickets for something.
I am scared. I am overwhelmed, and I am beginning to comprehend the fact that I have nine solid months of training to get through this without doing myself an injury.
And I am very proud of myself for even thinking I can do this.
Most people have been really supportive. Only Work Husband treated the news with trepidation. He has a bit of a funny relationship to running. It's one of the few things we don't talk about - I can talk to him about nearly anything else. Thinking about it, not talking running with Work Husband might be a good thing. It will make me talk about something else.
It's been a good day today. Book Group was good - more on that at another time. Work was okay. I found a second Huntsman carcass on the air conditioner, which means that firstly, the fumigation worked and secondly hopefully that is the end of the huntsmen for a while - I've lived here for four years and these are the first I've seen. They normally travel in pairs. And bravely, I hoovered up the body. No drama, no tears.
And tomorrow, funny day. I have to take Andrew to the doctor. Andrew is my car. A Toyota Echo. Why Andrew? Why not a woman's name? Back in the dark ages I had a boyfriend who jokingly named his willy Andrew. It was small, it got me where I wanted to go...
Card of the Blog: The Magician - I can do anything. Purity. Passion. Creation.
Kilometres walked since 29 January: 50 km
Kilometres run since 29 January: 27.5 km
Currently reading: The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery, Ultramarathon Man by Dean Karnazes
Weight lost since 29 Jan: 0.7 kg
In nine months to the day I will be running my very first marathon. On 17 October, I will be in Bar Harbour, Maine, USA competing in the Mount Desert Island Marathon - with Freaky Running Ex Boss by my side. I can't keep calling him Freaky Running Ex Boss - I hereby rename him Reindert. Good Dutch name. Reindert has been a wonderful coach - I'm just chuffed he's asked me to do this.
And I have to use those airline tickets for something.
I am scared. I am overwhelmed, and I am beginning to comprehend the fact that I have nine solid months of training to get through this without doing myself an injury.
And I am very proud of myself for even thinking I can do this.
Most people have been really supportive. Only Work Husband treated the news with trepidation. He has a bit of a funny relationship to running. It's one of the few things we don't talk about - I can talk to him about nearly anything else. Thinking about it, not talking running with Work Husband might be a good thing. It will make me talk about something else.
It's been a good day today. Book Group was good - more on that at another time. Work was okay. I found a second Huntsman carcass on the air conditioner, which means that firstly, the fumigation worked and secondly hopefully that is the end of the huntsmen for a while - I've lived here for four years and these are the first I've seen. They normally travel in pairs. And bravely, I hoovered up the body. No drama, no tears.
And tomorrow, funny day. I have to take Andrew to the doctor. Andrew is my car. A Toyota Echo. Why Andrew? Why not a woman's name? Back in the dark ages I had a boyfriend who jokingly named his willy Andrew. It was small, it got me where I wanted to go...
Card of the Blog: The Magician - I can do anything. Purity. Passion. Creation.
Kilometres walked since 29 January: 50 km
Kilometres run since 29 January: 27.5 km
Currently reading: The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery, Ultramarathon Man by Dean Karnazes
Weight lost since 29 Jan: 0.7 kg
Friday, February 5, 2010
To run, or not to run
Whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer the shin splints and strains of outrageous exhaustion, or by cessation, end them. To jog, to crawl, to jog perchance to finish - ah, there's the rub...
Freaky Running Boss - My wonderful friend, who has moved back to Boston, USA, ex boss, ex Dutchman, runner of a marathon a month, has asked whether I would like to run in the Mountain Desert Island Marathon in Maine, USA on 17 October 2010. And he will do it with me, at my speed.
Freaky Running Boss did the Boston Marathon in about 3:05 last year. I did the Adelaide Half Marathon in 2:39 last year. For somebody who was not running in March last year, this is a big thing. His generosity knows no bounds.
That Freaky Running Boss was the one who inspired me to start running is one thing. That he saw me through 18 of the 21 kilometres of the Adelaide Half marathon, egging me on gently and making me sprint the last half kilometre. Not many people can or will do that for you.
I am scared. I am looking at this and thinking, me - marathon? 42.2 kilometres of sheer pain and perseverence! What will the training do to my social life? What will the training do to my body?I'm still sore from Tuesday's torture session with Pinochet. Don't ask me questions like this when I'm having trouble sitting down, standing up and moving my shoulders. Repeatedly throwing around a spare tyre and sprinting in the heat will do this to you.
And why am I even considering booking myself in for this?
Card for the Blog: Three of Swords. Old pain. Suck it up Princess. Deal with your issues. Move on and do it.
Looks like I had better get running....
Pand
Kilometres walked since 29 Jan: 22 kilometres
Kilometres walked since 29 Jan: 8.5 kilometres
Currently reading: Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (nearly finished), UltraMarathon Man by Dean Karnazes
Weight lost since 29 Jan: 0.7 kg
Freaky Running Boss - My wonderful friend, who has moved back to Boston, USA, ex boss, ex Dutchman, runner of a marathon a month, has asked whether I would like to run in the Mountain Desert Island Marathon in Maine, USA on 17 October 2010. And he will do it with me, at my speed.
Freaky Running Boss did the Boston Marathon in about 3:05 last year. I did the Adelaide Half Marathon in 2:39 last year. For somebody who was not running in March last year, this is a big thing. His generosity knows no bounds.
That Freaky Running Boss was the one who inspired me to start running is one thing. That he saw me through 18 of the 21 kilometres of the Adelaide Half marathon, egging me on gently and making me sprint the last half kilometre. Not many people can or will do that for you.
I am scared. I am looking at this and thinking, me - marathon? 42.2 kilometres of sheer pain and perseverence! What will the training do to my social life? What will the training do to my body?I'm still sore from Tuesday's torture session with Pinochet. Don't ask me questions like this when I'm having trouble sitting down, standing up and moving my shoulders. Repeatedly throwing around a spare tyre and sprinting in the heat will do this to you.
And why am I even considering booking myself in for this?
Card for the Blog: Three of Swords. Old pain. Suck it up Princess. Deal with your issues. Move on and do it.
Looks like I had better get running....
Pand
Kilometres walked since 29 Jan: 22 kilometres
Kilometres walked since 29 Jan: 8.5 kilometres
Currently reading: Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (nearly finished), UltraMarathon Man by Dean Karnazes
Weight lost since 29 Jan: 0.7 kg
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