Run Forest, Run!

Good Morning Bleeps.

For those of you that knew me in school I am sure that you must find it quite amusing that I like to run. You see it was usually me that came in last in cross country at school. I remember one time it was foggy and I actually got lost and crossed the "finish line" over an hour later than my classmates. The teacher was less than impressed.

In my twenties I lived in Florida and discovered a passion for fitness. I trained hard and finally qualified as a fitness instructor. I spent my days on the beach topping up my tan and my evenings in the gym teaching step aerobics and providing personal training. Life was good.

I moved back to England in my mid-twenties (not through choice) and fell off the exercise wagon. I had my little spurts of "I'm going to get fit again" but I basically got really lazy.

Fast forward a few (ahem, ok fourteen) years and I met Phil. He told me how he was training for his first marathon, I was impressed! I was inspired by this and went out and got myself a pair of running shoes. The first time I hit the pavement was a little bit embarrassing because I walked more than I ran but I was determined to continue. I built up my fitness gradually and before long I was a runner. Not a fast runner but a runner none the less.

New York Marathon, November 2009

I went to New York with Phil in the November and watched him with complete admiration as he crossed the finish line. I almost burst with pride, seeing him reach the goal that he had trained so hard for. He didn't let his knee injury stop him, he was determined and it paid off. I sat in the bleachers and when I got my first glimpse of him I couldn't stop smiling. The atmosphere was amazing and I decided that next year it would be me crossing that line, I wanted to train hard and achieve something as amazing as running a marathon.

I started to train and got my entry place but I was plagued with injury. During the BUPA 10K run in London I pulled my calf muscle at the 3K marker. Phil said we should stop because he could see I was in pain but I was determined to finish (I wanted that medal) and so I finally completed the run (by limping) in just over an hour. I was disappointed with my time but proud of myself that I hadn't given in.

I decided that if I was going to train for a marathon then I probably needed some professional help. I got myself a personal trainer but all he did was tell me how running was bad for me, how I shouldn't do it etc. It was not the kind of "encouragement" that I needed when I already had voices in my head full of negativity after my 10K "disaster". I stopped working with him and found myself a new PT. She was great because she was a runner herself. She told me that as my PT she should advise me to not train for the marathon (by this point I had pulled my calf and my hamstring muscle) but as a fellow runner she understood my need to see it through.

BUPA 10K, London 2010

It would seem that every time I recovered from one injury, I got another and so I decided to go for my longest run yet and it was going to be my deciding run. If I reached my goal of 13 miles (a half marathon) then I would go for it and continue to train. At around 8 miles I pulled my groin, fate had decided.

I always remember sitting in the sauna at the gym with Phil and he said "maybe you should just accept that perhaps you are not a runner". I think the look I gave him must have shown that I was trying to not kill him and he quickly rephrased his sentence to how he actually meant it and that was as much as I wanted to run a marathon and my head was in the right place, my body was telling me no.

From that point I just used running as a way to keep fit, staying around 6K on the treadmill and mixing it up with weights and other equipment.

Since becoming ill in November I haven't done any exercise at all. I live in a four story town house (by the sea, very lovely) and just walking up and down the stairs exhausts me these days. I miss going to the gym and continue to pay my membership in the hopes that I will get my energy back and will be able to go back and pound the treadmill. I miss the rush of endorphins that you get after a kick-butt session in the gym. I miss the gentle ache in my muscles that tell me I worked them hard, completely different from the ache I feel in my body these days.

I hate that my life seems to be on hold or is at least dependent on how I feel from day-to-day. I want my life back. I want control back. I resent this illness that seems to change from day to day, hour to hour. I resent that there isn't a magic pill to make it go away. Growing up we are taught that when we are sick, we go to the doctor, find out what is wrong and then they make you better. I want to be better. Where is my prescription?

I WILL get back to the gym, I just need to listen to my body and right now my body is saying "get back on the sofa woman", I better listen!

So enough about me, how are YOU?