An Unwitting Guinea Pig

I'm just needing a bit of advice today. I'm wondering whether I should take out an AVO on my eldest son.

This is all stemming from an incident yesterday. I ran speed in the morning and didn't quite complete the session. I could feel my butt tightening up so I decided to use the last 10 mins of the running time to stretch - with minimal success. I stretched again later and got quite stern with my unrepentant piriformis with a tennis ball. But I had little luck and by evening it was really bugging me.

I hit up the tennis ball and the roller again and did lots of stretching and that's when Sam walked in. He volunteered to do some myofascial release. 'Great!' I thought. That's what the physio did on me last Friday and it was really successful. So I agreed quite eagerly.

Sam made me lie with the sore side up and he targeted my glutes to start off with.
Ughhh! His fingers are not as kind as Vanessa's. They were like heat-seeking missiles honing in on my sorest bits. He dug in and I tried to relax. Then he found another spot. Yeowwwwww!! There was vocalisation at this point - no swearing, just a guttural moan which seemed to please Sam.

Then it was on to the piriformis. I think this is where a little swear word slipped out. Man it hurt! Not as badly as childbirth but not far off. And his fingers were unrelenting. They would wait for the pain to ease off and then be off to their next site. I think there was a good amount of pay-back for all the times I'd annoyed or embarrassed him and not enough consideration for the times when I'd cared for, proof-read for, cooked for, cheered for and generally been "the best Mum in the world" to.

Finally he got to my hip flexor. And that's when I found out that a muscle can be in pain and ticklish all at the same time. I was laughing and crying and that totally set Sam off. He started laughing and with every chuckle he seemed to press harder and that's when I knew that he had a seriously sadistic side.

Today I am bruised. I'm sure I can see all the loops and whorls of his fingerprints tattooed into my hips and glutes. There will be no running today - and tomorrow it's back to the physio. At least she has no grudges against me.

Not Sick But Twisted

It was fairly good news from the physio. I'm not sick - just a little twisted. My pelvis was twisted up and back on the left and this was related to the tight hamstring and the excruciatingly tight calf from the previous week. It's just like the "Bones" song. My hip bone is connected to my thigh bone and my thigh bone's connected to my shin bone. So running a 21k LSD on a really tight calf is apparently not a great idea.

So once I was deemed to be all bent out of shape it was a matter of beating my muscles into submission. Vanessa, my physio, was actually very gentle (compared to my fingers-of-torture masseuse) and by the end of the session my muscles were behaving themselves. She left the decision to run on the weekend up to me. So of course I decided to run - and not just a shorter run - the whole 20k! But I did promise to take it easy.

Saturday's run was not as pain-free as I'd hoped for. The pain in my hip was gone but there was still mild hamstring pain whenever I pushed off on the left. It was worse going up the hills but it was bearable. I intended to turn around if it got too bad but it stayed the same for most of the run and after I got to 10k there was really no point in turning around. The last 3k were not fun. It was humid and having to deal with even very mild pain is tiring so I actually walked two of the last three hills. Luckily my running buddy was not feeling the love at this stage either (he'd done 10k before we'd started) and he was more than happy to walk them with me - he even encouraged it quite strongly.

I spent a good amount of time Saturday afternoon on a tennis ball and stretching and woke up feeling pretty good on Sunday and decided to forgo my afternoon run in favour of my dusty, neglected stationary bike. One hour and twenty minutes later I had a numb bum and a very wet sweat towel AND a healthy glow.

So now what? I'll go to speed tomorrow but take it easy. If it's really bothering me it'll be back to the physio. Lots of stretching and rolling and getting back into the hip stability exercises that I had neglected a few months back because my hamstring was feeling so good. No hills on Thursday (unless I have little or no pain tomorrow). Just a slow gentle 8-10k instead. And maybe I'll give my bike another whirl on Wednesday if I can stand the boredom.

Melbourne is only 5 and a half weeks away so that's my time-line to be pain-free. It's hard juggling the need to train with the need to rest but I'm going to be cautious because the most important thing is to enjoy my run in Melbourne. Booked my plane ticket and accommodation this morning so nothing is going to stop me.

A Pain In My Own Butt

I'm a pain in my own butt!

Okay I've said it. I've long known that I can be a pain in my kids cumulative butts ("put your clothes away - no not on the floor, in the drawers" "make your bed" "do your homework" "eat your veggies" "blah, blah, white noise") And a pain in my husband's butt. ("can you roll over and stop snoring?" can you roll over and stop snoring?" "CAN YOU ROLL OVER AND STOP SNORING?")

But now I've become a pain in my own butt.

Okay I've got to admit that it was only my hamstring to start off with. Something happened when I ran the Brisbane half. I didn't hurt it during the event but later that afternoon I noticed it was tight. I've been stretching and taking it a bit easy on my speed runs. But then we had the hill session from hell last Wednesday and I could hardly walk because of tight calves for a few days. And then on Sunday I decided in all my wisdom, that I needed to get my long run done. Not just a shorter version because my calf was still tight - the full 20k plus 1 for good measure. And the tightness in my hamstring has now migrated north to my butt.

And still this week I've tried to stick my head in the sand and pretend that it wasn't so bad. I did speed on Tuesday but kept to an easier pace and I did hills yesterday but didn't actually run the steepest hill in Brisbane I just did laps of a flat side street. And I iced and had anti inflammatories after but there's no denying that something is wrong because when I try to bend over to stick my head in the sand I get a bite of pain.

So it's off to the physio this afternoon. I'm hoping she just lays her hands on me and I'll be cured. (Yes I do believe in Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy) But if she can't do that I'll be happy with a bit of massage, ultrasound and a shorter long run in the morning. And if that's too much to ask for I'll even forgo the Saturday run as long as I can run next week. But if that fails I will grudgingly take a whole week off as long as I can get to the start line of the Melbourne Half in October.

Fingers crossed that I haven't damaged myself too badly.

Student of Life

Life is always full of little lessons. Doesn't matter how old and experienced, how well educated, how worldly - there is always something we can learn. These are just a few that I've learnt in the last week.

- Maybe a 21k run isn't the best idea a few days after you've had the hill session from hell and one of your calves is still sore.

- Eating a chocolate that you've found on the kitchen bench that looks like it's gone through the washing machine may actually taste like it's gone through the washing machine.

- If every single member in your family has had the same throat infection, don't think you're going to get away without contracting it.

- If you're in a hurry to get somewhere that will be the day that someone has left the gate open and the dog's escaped.

- Buying a very expensive mattress for your old dog who has really bad hips can actually help you sleep better at night.

- It's never a good idea to chase the scrub turkeys from the front lawn in a motorized vehicle and even a worse idea when your tyres are a little bald and it's been raining. Anyone know a good panel beater?

- People will always turn up at training if there's the promise of cake. Except if they're still young and have a friend who will deliver their cake to them.

- You will always have friends if you can bake.


This week's culinary triumph - a chocolate cupcake filled with white chocolate ganache and iced with coffee buttercream.

- If you know a client is coming around lunch time chances are high that they will turn up just as you've made a cup of tea.

- Never disregard crazy dreams. They may have an ounce of truth in them.

It's been so interesting to be a student of life this week.

Did She Really Say That?

I had a new client come over this week. She was, on first appearances quite a pleasant, chatty lady but she left me standing there at the end with my jaw almost on the floor feeling like I'd been insulted.

She'd come to have elastic sewn on the bottom of her daughter's running tights. Apparently her daughter is quite the athlete. She'd been offered a position at Brisbane State High - a state-run high school that you can only get into if you are gifted academically, culturally (music or drama) or in the sporting field. Well, all my three sons went to Brisbane State High so when the client mentioned this I quickly told her that my sons went there - thinking this would establish a rapport. But even quicker (I don't think she paused to draw breath or to listen to what I said) she told me that she'd told her daughter that if she wanted a GOOD education she'd go to the local Catholic girl's school.

So in that sentence she'd managed to let me know that my choice of school for my children was inferior.

Then she went on to let me know what a great seamstress she was. She had been told that she had a gift for it when she'd done 16 weeks of it back in Grade 8 and then she used the phrase that I hate most in the world - "no offense". The sentence she used it in was - "No offense, but I chose an academic route instead of continuing with sewing"

Talk about sweeping generalizations. Obviously because I was just someone who sewed in a room under the house I was obviously academically inferior. AND I sent my kids to a school where they'd get an inferior education. It was nice of her to let me know how many wrong choices I'd made in my life.

Thing is - she couldn't have been more wrong. I chose an academic path through high school too and got a degree in the field of my choosing. I also finished in the top 5% of students in the state in high school. The school my kids went to had much better results academically than her daughter's school last year and my sons all finished with marks that got them into the uni course of their choosing. The fact that I didn't stay with vet science as a career was because I wanted to be a stay at home mum and I was lucky enough to create a business which I love and can do from home.

From the moment she walked into my workroom she was judging me. And finding me inadequate. And yet I see myself as successful. But success to me isn't having a big house, expensive cars, sending your kids to private school and dressing in designer gear. Success is having enough money to pay the bills. Having no debt. Having a job I love and customers that I adore (obviously I wouldn't count her in that category). Having time to do the things I love - like running. Having time to be there for my kids - even though they're pretty grown up now. Having wonderful, caring friends. Being content with my life.

I count myself as rich, fulfilled and very blessed. And I saw her attempts to make herself seem impressive quite sad.

I got to have a little Facebook rant about it and told all my friends. Generally got it off my chest. Then yesterday she came back to pick up the tights and asked me if my ears had been burning on Wednesday night because she'd been talking about me. Couldn't help but wonder if her hair had caught on fire from her burning ears on Tuesday.

An Open Letter to Coach Chris

Dear Chris

I can't believe what you did to us yesterday. The pain you put us through and the lingering effects today. I've been walking around today looking like I'm auditioning for Monty Python's Ministry of Silly Walks.

Have you put some sort of mood-changing drug in our Powerade which give you control over our ability to think for ourselves? That's the only reason I can come up with because I'm sure that eleven perfectly sane people would not voluntarily put themselves through what you put us through yesterday - AND pay you for the privilege of becoming disabled for the next few days.

Kangaroo Point Stairs were bad.

Those last twenty or so burned the quads unbelievably each of the five times we ran up. And going down was not much better. I was freaked out that I was going to fall. But I didn't and felt such a feeling of accomplishment when I finished until you made us run them one more time and said it didn't count as a sixth. But believe me right now - I COUNTED IT AS A SIXTH!!

If I wasn't under the influence of mind-control drugs I would probably have gotten into my car at this point. But like a lamb to the slaughter I followed on to those stairs at the Storey Bridge. How many flights WERE there? Eight? Ten? Twelve? I obviously didn't count - or maybe I just couldn't because of oxygen deprivation. But my legs were getting the hang of ascents and I didn't feel the burn till the top three steps. So I'm counting this as a small mercy. And again five reps! And of course THE SIXTH ONE COUNTED!

And then it was on to Medina Hill.

I have a special love/hate relationship with this hill. Compared to Gower St, it's not so bad but when you have to run it TEN times ... I think it was this part of the run that's made me walk like a duck today. I got up on my toes and drove through strongly with my thighs (well as strongly as my thighs will drive through) and today my calves scream at me if I flex my feet beyond 5 degrees and I've discovered an inner-thigh muscle that I never knew I had. And then we had to run it one more time to get back to the bridge. Why couldn't we have just stayed at the top on the tenth rep?

And then what did your sadistic little self make us do? Four more reps of Kangaroo Point stairs! Well I WALKED a lot of those reps. So stick that in your pipe and smoke it!!

This letter is in part a warning - now I'm more clear-headed, I'm plotting my revenge. You won't know when it's coming but believe me it's coming. I may make a 'special' batch of brownies (can you still buy chocolate flavoured laxatives?) I may accidentally sew together the legs of your jeans when you get me to take them up. Or I might just have to use one of those ropes that the climbers were using on the Kangaroo Point Cliffs and string you up while we all go off and have coffee.

So consider yourself on notice.

Charmaine

PS Have a great time in Canberra on the weekend and I'll see you at speed on Tuesday.

Animal Karma

In my previous and short-lived career I was a vet. And as a vet I sometimes had to do things that I didn't really like or agree with.

Shoving an arm up a cow's butt - didn't like it but on cold Winter mornings it wasn't that unpleasant.

Tail-docking puppies - definitely didn't like making the poor little puppies squeal.

Putting down pets at the owners request - hated it. And having to suggest it wasn't much better.

I had to put down a few animals in my few years practicing and there was a few incidents that were memorable. I had to go into an old man's house and put down his best friend because he was really old and really sick. The old man sat with the dog and stroked it with tears running down his cheeks while I gave it the needle. And afterwards he walked me to my car and offered me some flower bulbs because I'd admired his garden.

Another time I was asked to euthanase a very sick budgerigar. This was not long after I'd graduated and I'd never euthanased such a small bird before. We'd had to kill chickens for pathology practicals so I decided to do it the way I'd done it on the chickens which was basically to break its neck. Unfortunately budgies have a lot weaker neck than a chicken and when I twisted and pulled I managed to twist and pull the whole head off. I don't know who was more shocked - me or the vet nurse. But I am grateful that the owner hadn't wanted to take the bird home to be buried because I don't know if sticky tape would have worked on feathers and duct tape may have been a little too obvious.

So after all the bad things that I've done to animals - all the needles, the rectal temperatures, the injections of emetics, the nail clippings that were a little too generous, the tooth removals, the abscess-lancing and the very many other procedures that were intrusive and unpleasant - I think the animals are finally coming for their revenge. Either that or it's karma.

Today I had a very large bird (well, I'm assuming that it was large) crapped on my car while I was at training.

Then while I was doing my last 1500m rep, a possum ran right across my path and I almost tripped.

Nelson decided to sleep in front of my door last night and every time he had a dream (you know the one - where he's running in an open field chasing ducks) he'd kick my door. It sounded like someone was knocking and I was up twice during the night seeing who wanted to come in.

Since Iven has been away I've been the first up on three of the four mornings. And on three of the four mornings there's been a nice little present on the laundry floor for me to clean up. On the morning that Sam was up first - nothing!

And finally, today Bubbles escaped from the back yard and found something brown and very, unpleasant smelling to anoint her body in. I had an unexpected break from work to give her a bath.

So before anything more goes wrong I'd like to make a very public apology to any animal great or small that I have offended. I'm so sorry!

So can we call it a truce?