What have I learned?

And here I sit, blood still flowing through my legs from a short 3 mile trot around the village. I included,  in the local circuit, a loop around a neighbouring housing estate this morning, not used before, and two other often-used loops. This brought me over the 3 miles. People are out and about, the butcher's is open with the bags of spuds resting on the window.  Women (mostly) are chatting on corners, pre-school children eye each other up from the safety of their buggies. An elderly lady joins them.  Vans are unloading, there's the electronic beep of money emerging from ATMS. The day has begun here in Co. Kildare.

It's grey, but warmer than it has been. I'm not sure if I conveyed this to the International readers, but our May has been colder and wetter than our April. There have been days when it was only 10 or 11 celsius. We are promised some heat in the coming days which is a bit scary when you are facing a marathon, however, it seems there will be a cooler breeze from Sunday onwards. It looks like Marathon day will be bright, but not too hot. Couldn't be better.

 

I attempted to run a bit faster from the outset, this morning, but should know better at this stage. I am a slow starter. It feels awkward and 'jerky' when I try that in the beginning. Far better, to start slower, use shorter steps and let the system open up until I find a steady, strong pace which flows along in its own smoothness.  I am not a sprinter!

That got me thinking about the things I have learned about running (mine only) in the last few months. There are simple things, like running with my hands open rather than in fists, which would be my default position. It's cooler, I quite honestly relish the breeze around my palms. I've learned that, over distance, some socks work better than others. They should not be too thin and cottony or I will get blisters; neither should they be too thick because my feet will get too warm. I heard a story over the weekend of someone who wore a brand new pair of socks, gifted by his wife, on the morning of hs first marathon and doubled his time! He got severe blisters.  I have learned that the bent-shoulder-bum-out position which many long-distance runners fall into is known as the bucket position. I try to correct this as I run, from time to time. If I didn't, I would have a very stiff back and shoulders early on. The next point is a bit personal, but will make sense when you think about it. I avoid putting on body lotions, face creams (except sun cream on exposed spots like ears, nose and neck) before long runs. The chemicals combine with the heat and salts excreted through the pores to give a urea-like stink. I'm told that I'm the only one who notices this?! Finally, I have come to see food as nourishment. This may seem like a statement of the obvious, perhaps, but it is different to look at a food and see it as 'fuel' or as a nutrient that helps repair or build muscles. I inevitably drift towards the fruit, vegetable and fish counters which, in truth, I can be lazy about. While I love to cook for others, I can be a bit lazy about my own daily meals. I did read about that in one of the running narratives I read, but know exactly what it means ... at the moment.  For me, this realisation will come and go; I'd hate to be that serious about it all the time.

That's just a sample of the practical things I have learned.  I am trying to think what are the 'life-lessons' and I'm not so sure really.  There are transferable skills.  I have learned to recognise the phases of a long run,  including the bit where you 'get mad' or 'defeated' and it requires a bit of discipline to overcome. I probably always had that, but with the running I am practising it more and with practice comes ease. There is something else and it's kind of big for me.  I'm a fright for living in the future.  Even this morning, we were talking about retirements (I wonder why?) and commenting on how much or little time is left and what can be achieved in that length of time.  Then, as if from nowhere, I am reminded of a moment in the Phoenix Park during one of the long runs when, at the half-way mark, I tried to congratulate myself on getting that far and found it meant little ... in a good way. All I knew was that moment, a moment in which I happened to feel strong and smooth as I ran.  I can only run one moment, one mile at a time.  As someone who frequently sees the mountain rather than the constituent parts, this was quite a breakthrough.  When I struggle over an article, feel that I haven't enough undisturbed time to let the 'creativity' flow, feel there are too many things to do, want to be somewhere else doing something else, I find myself moving into that moment of realisation again: 'I have only the now' and what must or can I do in the now? It seems so trite and new-agey when I write it, but it means something 'from the inside' to me. Finally, perhaps most importantly, running is fun, is a hobby, is an interest and the energy it generates can infuse the rest of my life.

Of course, the trouble with life lessons is that we have to learn them again, and again, and again ... ad infinitum. In the words of Buzz Lightyear: "To Infinity and Beyond." 

IMPORTANT NOTICE ABOUT POST-RACE GATHERING!

Folks, there is a change of plan to the post-race gathering. No.1's sister has kindly invited us all back to their house which is out the Rochestown road (precise details can be obtained) for finger food. We have decided to accept. They have loads of space so it should be more comfortable for all, especially the little ones. Please, please do come along. Don't be shy. They are easy, generous, gracious people. It also means I can have a shower and that has to be a bonus!

One Week to Go: Butterflies

I saw quite a few butterflies on today's run by the Royal Canal. They were those pretty little blue ones and then some darker ones that were gone too quickly before I could identify further colour. I had to smile. They were almost an external manifestation of the occasional flutter in my tummy of the past few days. I go from moments of dull dread, to a smidgeon of excitement to just getting on with the rest of life. I could get very excited now, if I left myself.  

Last week and the week I am facing are very strange. I do not feel as if I am running enough. Today I did just 8 miles, I rest tomorrow, Wednesday I will do 2 miles, Thursday I will do 3 and then I will do another 2 on Sunday.  It feels so odd. I have found myself going online to check that this is what I am supposed to be doing. Of course, it depends on the programme you are following, but most do recommend tapering.  I have also considered going for a swim instead or even a cycle. Apparently I am not unique - almost as if reading my mind, the articles warn against doing other exercise in this last week, to resist the temptation.  It's all about building glycogen (from carbohydrate mostly) in the muscles. So, all in all, I feel a bit helpless which, of course, doesn't help the nerves. We're back to that 'control' thing again.

Of course, there are things that I can do. I can drink water. So, like a toddler, my bottle has become a permanent accessory. I can eat sensibly. Last week, I made healthy muffins so as not to be indulging in too many biscuits with their refined sugars. It is recommended, at this end of the week, to eat more protein and by Thursday or Friday to switch the balance in favour of carbohydrates. By Thursday, I should also watch my intake of fruit and veg. Finally, I can do some constructive imagining. I have already checked out the marathon route in some detail. Because it is Cork city where I was born, raised until I was 8, lived at various stages of my adult life, I am quite familiar with much of the route. In fact, I am looking forward to running around a city that I only pass through now, for the most part, en route to Kenmare or Clonakilty.  I had to do a bit of Googling to figure out certain sections of the route, but now have a good sense of most of it. I am relieved. I had some notion that we would be heading out the North Bypass route which would have been a long, slow haul. Happily, we are not. We will head East by the Quays and the train station before running under the Jack Lynch Tunnel. I am also relieved to learn that, on the Western End, we are not running the full length of the Model Farm Road or the Carrigrohane Straight (although we will run significant stretches of both), but turn right from the former on to the latter at Inchigaggin Bridge/The Orchards. Parts of Cork city are fairly hill, but the organisers have worked hard to provide a route as flat as possible. Cork city is also a city built between two branches of a river. There will be lots of watery sights to enjoy throughout and, in those final miles, bridges to count.

But that's next week! In the meantime, I can just focus on the other bits and pieces of life and, to that end, some mindfulness is helpful. I try to go about my business with quiet deliberation, choosing to engage as much as possible so that I do not torture myself into a cranky non-sleeping jibbering mess!