Stepping Back

There is a lull this week, a quiet and much needed stepping back from doctors and testing and imaging and bloodwork... Yet even in the lull there is busyness.

It has been two months now since we moved to this state, this community, this home. I am still searching for my quiet, reflective center. It's in there somewhere I know!

I still feel the need to keep working on creating home in this new space. The nest doesn't quite feel complete just yet. This week the project has been to neutralize the purple, pink and gold hues of Scooch's bedroom. Somehow that combination of colors on an almost thirteen year old boy's bedroom wall and might I add, ceiling, don't do much for his self-image! I find myself pushing through the days, and pushing is the real word for it. I don't find myself as tired as I had been, thank goodness, but I do find myself reaching for the ibuprofen bottle at some point every day, hoping to stave off the malaise, hoping to stall the aches, hoping my stomach can take it, hoping I can finish the project...

I got to visit with someone in the hospital this week. She works at my children's school. She drove herself to the hospital after work last Friday and they admitted her. She couldn't speak two words in a row without coughing. She has COPD (chronic obstructive pulmonary disorder) and an immune defficiency. She is a music teacher, has her doctorate in music education, loves drum circles, is a vocalist, loves to teach. But one day twenty-three years ago a steam pipe broke outside of her classroom. No-one bothered to fix it. She's been sick ever since, fighting with her body ever since, visiting doctors ever since, hoping to get better ever since. Her body is mis-shapen from steroid medications, her bones twisted and brittle, she walks with a cane.

Today she told me that she can't do it anymore.

I don't want to end up like that!

Walk/Run

There is wisdom to scheduling one's runs for the morning rather than evening. The day has a way of taking over. It was too dark and damp last evening by the time I put on my running gear to continue out. Let me confess that I was distracted from work by coverage of the Queen's visit during the day and made up for the time after Supper. By the time I was finished it was, as I say, dusk and raining slightly. Ugh. I went back in the door.
This morning, I was hardly much better. Lethargic is the word that came to mind. I figured a compromise was best. I walk/ran the first round and managed to run steadily, and happily, for the second half. Three days without a run is a bit much. It's almost as if the muscles begin to believe this campaign might be over and that they can ease up a bit. I let them know who's boss though!

3 Weeks to Go

I'm tapering! That's the official term for running less mileage per week in the two to three weeks immedieately before the marathon. It's not that obvious this week. I run a 5-mile, a 4-mile, a 5-mile in the middle of the week and 12 miles on Saturday. The change in mileage is more noticeable in the penultimate and final weeks.

Still ... I'm tapering. Three weeks to go, I'm excited about it. Three weeks to go, I don't have anxiety. Three weeks to go, the marathon seems possible. This won't last. Mark my words, this won't last, but I (perhaps I should say 'we') shall enjoy my positivity for now.

As for last Saturday's long run, it came and went amdist the process of preparing for my part on a panel in a national radio programme on Robin Hood, which was broadcast live last evening. I had never done that before (radio thing). Let's just say, I could be happier about both performances, but I'm only going to talk about the run. I was on my own this weekend (a question of division of labour) and had decided to run in the Phoenix Park, but with the State visits of the English Queen and American President there are a lot of security operations already in motion. Instead I headed to Maynooth and the Royal Canal. Again, I had intended to run 5 miles towards Leixlip, 5 miles back to Maynooth, 5 miles out to Kilcock(and beyond a bit) and 5 miles back making a figure of 8 with Maynooth at the centre. 

Typical me, I changed my mind. It was such an effort to get going and I was in cold rain, that by the time I got to Leixlip I decided that it might be safer to keep running in that direction as far away from Maynooth, and the refuge of the car, as possible. So, a bit like Forrest Gump, I just kept on running. It also kept on raining! By the time I arrived opposite Clonsilla Dart Station, the cold wet and the quietness of the bridle path put me off. I turned around. (Rhetorician, I think you are braver than me on this issues. I like to know there are other people around me). It gave me just under 8 miles, but I thought (judging by my time) that it was closer to 9 miles. I turned around, the sun came back out, I was almost in 'the zone', but not quite. I was enjoying the lushness of the canal surrounds and the several families of ducks (cute little duckling's and all), I had only occasional lapses of fretting about Robin Hood(!) I even dried out again. As I arrvied back in Maynooth, however, the debate began: "Will I make up the extra miles?" "How will I make up the extra miles?" "Don't think about making up the extra miles, just yet." "I have to do it, it's my last chance." And so on. So, I arrive back at the bridge in Maynooth, I know by my watch that I am well short of 20 miles (I was running 2 hours 50, I think). I thought about heading out towards Kilcock, but I just couldn't quite get the courage (in broader sense of that word) to do that. Then it came to me, I headed under the bridge, turned right into the town, left through the college gates and did two laps of the college, stopping just short of 3 hours 20. If only, I had done one more lap!

When I came home, I took out the Running Ahead tool for measuring distance. By my reckoning I barely did 18.5 miles. I was really disappointed. It's daft, I know, but it almost (still had all the endorphins and some sense of achievement), but I really felt I sold myself short. I was also disappointed by my time. I was giving myself 10 minutes per mile. This is not a 10 minutes per mile performance. It's going to be a very slow marathon! I have not quite reconciled myself to that yet. I still dream of some kind of stellar performance below 4 hours. That is not, absolutely not going to happen. Still, I can't quite let go my disappointment about that; I need to deal with it. It is an unreal expectation, the expectation of a novice runner.

On a more positive note, there was a time when running 2 laps of the grounds of Maynooth college was a good run! As for running 18.5 miles, I have to remind myself that I did it. I was drifting through some older posts over the weekend (there are so many ways to procrastinate on the internet!) and I was struck by my sense of achievement for 11 miles, 13 miles and so on. I kind of dismissed the 18.5 as a fine achievement, but "nothing to write home about"! I didn't do much lounging around recovering as I did earlier in the programme. And that's all in a few months.  It tells me that practice, effort, training does work. My body is getting used to the distances. I do appreciate that, greatly.