Ticking Off Goals

Here's a quick update on this week's running.

Last Saturday I joined the group for the long slow run. Fifteen k done and dusted three minutes faster than I'd run the previous week's slightly shorter run. It makes a big difference to run in company.

Then Sunday I got up and did it all over again. Maybe not so smart to do two long runs only twenty four hours apart but I figured I'd do it slow, walk if I had to and cut it short if my legs were tired. But I did have a certain route in mind and when I decide on a route I generally finish it. And I did. Another 15k done and dusted.

Monday was a rest day - just a three k walk with Toby and some yoga.

And then came Tuesday. Tuesday has been speed day for years now. But since January I actually haven't done a proper session. I did a 3.7k loop by myself keeping my heart rate as low as possible and then I'd do some 1k reps with plenty of rest between them. And that's been my routine for months now - until last Tuesday. I'd decided that the time had come to do a full session. Of course it would be modified a little to get more rest between reps but I was going to do what the squad did. And I was almost wetting myself with nerves.

I had to keep telling myself that if it got too hard I could stop. I didn't have to run hard. No one was expecting me to run super-fast. In fact they were all so welcoming and pleased that I was able to join in.

Coach Chris had threatened me with a tough set and I'll admit that it wasn't really easy but running a bit faster than snail's pace was never going to be easy. One kilometre reps with a 500m recovery. I managed five reps - 4:48, 4:49, 4:40, 4:47 and 4:41. Pretty consistent so I was happy. But I was even happier with the caramel slice - thanks Mike for making good on the birthday promise and it was every bit as good as you'd bragged.

Wednesday was a rest day and Thursday was an 11k run. You'll note that there's no qualifier like tempo or progression in front of the word run. It was just a run trying to keep my heart rate low. And by low I mean low for me because my heart rate is always higher than what the books say it should be.

I'd run this route last Thursday and this week I ran it slightly faster (and it was only just slightly) but my heart rate was quite a bit lower. Little successes make me happy.

My total for the week was just over 50k. And that's the bench mark that I'd set for what I wanted to  be doing each week when I'd set my new year's goals. It may have taken me almost 9 months but I made it!!

Now I need to see if I can do it all over again.

Wrapping Them in Cotton Wool

Bringing up a puppy is a lot like bringing up a child. You feed them, you protect them, you teach them manners and socialise them. With kids a lot of this socialisation happens when they are exposed to other people's kids and it's a bit the same with Toby. He's had a couple of 'exposures' lately that took me right back to when my kids were young.

I sent my beautiful, innocent little son Sam off to school when he was five and a half. He was the oldest and hadn't been terribly exposed to 'worldly' kids. He'd been to kindy and pre school but the kids there were a lot like him - sweet and kind. So the first week of school was a bit of an eye-opening experience to both him and me.

It was only his third day when he came home and asked me a question that had been bothering him all day.

"Mum, am I a poofer?" (He meant poofter - a not-so-nice word referring to male homosexuals)

I'm sure I didn't hide the look of horror - not that my son might be homosexual, but that someone had obviously addressed him that way. I might blow snot rockets (very badly) but I had no intention of my kids using derogatory language like that - and especially using it incorrectly.

I assured him that he wasn't and left it at that. After all he hadn't asked me what a 'poofer' was and having to explain it was going to open a whole new can of worms. Five and a half is a little young to be learning about sex.

Then the very next day he came home proud with his new knowledge.

"I know what the rude finger is!"

We had to have a conversation about rude words and rude gestures. And I was incensed that my gorgeous little boy was being sullied by exposure to a lower element. So I went to see the teacher.

I explained why I was there and her eyes almost rolled back in her head. Yep, I was one of 'those' parents. An over-protective complainer. She explained very slowly to me, like I was a bit simple, that there was very little she could do when kids get together in the playground and what Sam had learnt wasn't part of the curriculum.

Basically her message was 'suck it up, he's going to hear it whether you want him to or not.

Yesterday Toby had a similar exposure to, shall we say, a rougher element. Hamish is a West Highland White (I actually just typed shite - it's funny what your fingers can come up with subliminally) terrier who often walks around the same areas as Toby and I. His owner Joan is a lovely older lady but, quite frankly, her Hamish has not been brought up as nicely as Toby.

When Toby meets a dog he wags his tail and assumes the 'let's play' pose. He may sniff a butt or two (and sometimes even an owners crotch) but I see that as acceptable doggy behaviour.

When Hamish meets another dog he goes straight into humping mode. And it doesn't really matter which end he's at. A head is as good as a tail in Hamish's book. While I totally 'get' that Toby is an attractive dog, Hamish's behaviour is akin to paedophilia and it had Toby totally bewildered. I will be giving Joan a wide berth next time I see her.

And then there was THE CAT.

Last week we took a new route which took us past the house of one of Josh's primary school friends. We were just walking past the front gate when I saw THE CAT sitting on the front path staring at Toby with his round green eyes.Toby took little interest in him but I can't say the same about THE CAT. He started to follow us down the street.

I thought he'd lose interest once we'd reached the boundary of his property but no - THE CAT wanted to make sure that we were well and truly gone. We walked a few paces and THE CAT walked a few paces. We stopped and THE CAT stopped. It was a bit like a scene in a bad spy movie.This continued with Toby getting increasingly excited about his new companion so I decided to let Toby say hello. Toby did his usual - got down in the play pose - and that's when all hell broke loose. That territorial, dog-hating feline came at us hissing and spitting and flashing evil-looking talons. So we exited, stage left - one of us with his tail between his legs.

Sometimes the only safe place is home in bed with your 'sister'.

So in one week we have learnt a little of the birds and the bees and we've also learnt that not everyone is friendly. And I thought we live in a nice neighbourhood.

Snot Rocket Fail

It all went horribly wrong the other day.

Remember I had a cold a few weeks ago? Well the cold is well past but my sinuses still pretend like I have a cold when I run. And being a lady who's been brung up proper (thanks Mum), there are just some things that I shouldn't do. Picking my nose is one of them. And wiping my nose on my sleeve is another. A lady should always carry a scented pocket handkerchief (preferably hand-embroidered with little garlands of flowers and her initials) around with her BUT my tights don't have any pockets and I don't actually own a handkerchief, being that it's the 21st century and not the 18th. And every time I stuff my bra with tissues it looks like I have some sort of deformity and they end up a sodden mass of sweaty pulp and there-in lies the dilemma.

Last Thursday my nose was running like a tap that had no washer. I had sniffed but my nasal vacuum was inadequate for the flow. I'd surreptitiously used the back of my hand (major unladylike action but no one was around and if a tree falls in the forest and no ones' around does it make a sound?) but the flow wouldn't stop. So I was left with just one last weapon in my arsenal - the snot rocket.

I've seen the snot rocket performed on a few occasions and it seems quite simple. One blocks the airflow to one side of the nose then forcibly exhales through the other nostril, causing the snot to rocket elegantly to earth. Easy!! Or maybe not. I did what I thought I'd seen before but I left out one important step. I forgot to aim. And being a little tired from my hilly route, the force of exhalation wasn't as explosive as required.

You don't look quite so ladylike with a long cascade of booger flowing from your nose and landing on your thigh. And of course this all happened when a peloton was passing. There were some stares - and not because I'm a fit, foxy lady. The amount of snot coming from my nose was more like what you'd find with a cow than a fox.

Did you know that black tights can show snot? I had to wear my mark of shame for the five kilometres home.

It looks like I've got something new to practice.

***

And talking about practice, I made the cake that I've been planning since last week. Making a three-layered cake where each layer is a different flavour means a lot of work. And the extra batter means that we also have a lot of cupcakes to eat this week. But I'm really happy with the end result. (And I actually ate a small bit of this one to make sure there wasn't too much happening.

Coffee, caramel and chocolate cakes layered together with a white chocolate ganache

Iced with a cream cheese frosting. The rosettes are made with a plain cream cheese frosting and a choc-hazelnut flavoured one.

Yes, it tasted pretty good.

Now I have enough cake in my kitchen to put on a small garden party for 20 of my closest friends. Looks like I'll be giving away samples again this week.

Better and Better

I'm not quite sure why, but my running's taken a big leap forward in the last week.

Saturday's long run was awesome. It's usually run with the squad but Coach Chris had chosen a route that's hilly. Hills and I are still not on speaking terms so I opted to go flat. The problem was that I couldn't quite make up my mind where to go. Up through the botanical gardens and to the bridge and back or through Kangaroo Point cliffs till my watch beeped at 6k and back again? I kept changing my mind until I settled on a combo of both - through Kangaroo Point, over the bridge and back through the gardens. Best decision ever!! I hit the top of the bridge when the sun was rising - a golden orb reflected off all the high rises. Gorgeous! My heart rate stayed low and I managed a 15k run feeling like I could have gone way further.

On Sunday I wanted to run but didn't want to push too hard. My solution? A Toby training session. He's going to be a sometime running companion when he's fully grown (he doesn't know this yet - I have to break the news to him gradually) and he needs to learn how to run without tripping me over or pulling me flat on my face. I took him on my 7k route and we walked whenever he found an interesting smell. When I got home I added up all the running sections and found he'd managed 5k out of the 7 - without causing injury to me. He's going to be a great running buddy.

Then yesterday we went to speed session. I'm still doing my 3.7k loop before I join the squad just so I don't push myself too hard. But yesterday might be the last time. I managed 4 X 1k reps all under 5 mins. That's the best I've done since the bottom dropped out in January. But even better than that - I didn't feel sick afterwards and I didn't need a nap before I started work. That's huge! And exciting!!

So how do I explain the big improvement? I think it's a combination of things. I've been committed to eating well - including lots of foods full of anti oxidants or are nutrient-dense. I'm supplementing with a pharmacy of different things and drinking beetroot juice (both good runs were done after a glass of the red stuff Carilyn - the experiment continues) I've been sleeping well (not sure though if the improvement is making me sleep well or sleeping well is causing the improvement - all I know is that when I'm not well I sleep really badly).

 I've also tried to reduce the sources of stress in my life as much as possible. Some things I can't do much about but attitude can help with how I deal with stressful times. I've incorporated some yoga into my schedule and getting out for a walk with Toby at the end of the day is a good defuser. And I've changed my mindset where it comes to my #2 son.

He's struggled with depression for the past couple of years and I thought my role was to support him - and it is, but not the way I was doing it. I've had to accept that he's an adult and I can not control his actions. At 23 I can't be telling him what he can and can't do. We've been back to the doctor and he's had a dosage change on his medication and it seems to be working wonders. It's awesome to hear him singing around the house - something he hasn't done in a long time.

Letting go is incredibly cathartic. I've stopped waking up with panic attacks, wondering where he is whether he's safe. And I can talk myself down now if I do get a little worried.

But I think the the thing that's made the most difference has been my new best friend. He makes me smile every day.

He's a great help in the kitchen.

He's amazing at snuggling.

And he insists that I take time out to play. He's my furry little tonic.

Stacks of Inspiration, Guilt and Colour

 A little while back I was forced to do some spot decorating - to cover a little naughty carpet tearing by Toby. I was pretty happy with the results - mostly because they've stopped Toby from destroying any more carpet and they've allowed me a place to send subliminal messages of encouragement to my family. In fact the messages were so subliminal, not even I knew I was doing it. The chalk board is just opposite the toilet and can be read and mulled over when you've felt the call of nature and yet forgotten that we actually don't live in the great outdoors and we do have a toilet door.

I've been putting up quotes that inspired me and hoped would in inspire the rest of the family. Stuff like this ...

and this ...

But this is the one that caused a little consternation with some members of the family.

Apparently Luke thought I'd put this one up just for him. But Iven was sure I'd pointed it squarely at him. All I can say is that it's nice to know that they're aware of their own shortcomings and it's nice to know that I can inspire and guilt people with a little piece of chalk. Ahh the power of words.

***

I took Friday off work again. It's awesome having your own business sometimes. But having the day off didn't mean that I did nothing. It just meant that I did nothing that could earn me money. I spent hours working on the biggest, most impractical cake that I've ever made just to see if I could do it.

Layer cakes are all the rage at the moment and I just happened to have 5 cake tins that were all the same size. And I had a box of AmeriColor Gel Paste food colours. And I was feeling a little nostalgic for the fluoro 80s. 

Bright enough?

My cake stack did have a little list but nothing bad enough to cause structural failure

It was a great opportunity to practice rose swirls

The finished product. Can you tell that I love colour??

It was just a plain vanilla cake and this did disappoint some members (Josh) of the household. BUT his comments have inspired me to make another layer cake. I'm thinking just three layers - chocolate, caramel and coffee layered with white chocolate ganache and iced with the double swirl choc/white choc cream cheese frosting. Unfortunately I won't be able to make this one until the other's gone. Can I wait that long??

Pieces of My Life

Pieces of my life.

- Luke and his girlfriend Becky went to the Ekka on Wednesday. The Ekka is basically the equivalent of a state fair, I think. I used to love going as a child but as an adult I'm happy for the kids to go without me. They turned up late in the evening with their arms full of loot that they'd bought and won. Luke had managed to win two giant stuffed toys - one was a hedgehog and the other was like a giant purple My Little Pony.

Toby was not a happy camper. There was something quite terrifying about that pony. His hackles went up and he backed away quickly and all of a sudden he was on my lap. And that's where he stayed until the pony was removed. What a Mummy's boy!! I don't think that he's going to make much of a guard dog.

- Running is still a bit of a struggle. I know I can't expect too much because everything I've read says that it'll take time and I'll have set-backs. I'd count having the flu followed by a cold counts as a set-back so I'm pleased that things aren't as bad as they were at the beginning of the year. Yesterday the plan was to do a very slow 8-10k. I started the run by walking into a door (It's still pretty dark at 5:30am) and finished with a dog sitting on my head ( I haven't found a safe place to do my stretches yet - Toby does love to be close to me). Luckily the bit in the middle - the actual running bit - wasn't too bad. I managed to keep a low, for me, heart rate so I'll take count that as a success.

- And talking about successes ... 

Thanks to Pinterest for the new cupcake idea. One of the men in the squad asked me not to put any more cake pics on Facebook because he's trying to clean up his diet. Silly Chris! He obviously didn't realise that asking that was like asking me to put up pictures of my most decadent, enticing cakes. I'm contrary like that.

- Our hens stopped laying. I know they don't lay for ever and I know we'd basically caused them to become osteoporotic by feeding them low-calcium food (and by we I mean Iven). I thought they'd gone into menopause. They were a little moody - you couldn't look at them sideways without them getting into a flap. And I was sure I saw one of the hens fanning the other through a hot flush. But apparently they'd just been having a laying hiatus and they've come back with a vengeance. They're laying eggs so big that I can't get the egg container to close. The egg on the right is a normal, bought-from-the-shop extra large egg. The one on the left is just showing off.

I hope everyone has a great weekend filled with family, friends and little fitness too :-)

Olympic Daydreams.

I've been a very diligent puppy mummy lately. Nearly every afternoon Toby and I go for a walk. It takes us about 45 minutes and ends with us on the school oval next to our house. And usually when we get to this point we run as fast as we can - tongues and ears flapping in the breeze, all full of puppy joy.

On Friday we got to this point and I decided to channel my inner Allyson Felix. Seriously, that girl has to be the prettiest runner at the Olympics. I'm not talking about her face, I'm talking about form. Long strides that look effortless. A back kick that gives it's own encouragement. My form is nothing like that - but a girl can dream.

I told Toby that we were going to sprint and he was ready. My head took me to the finishing straight of the 200. It was me and my dog in lane seven and we were pulling away from all the other runners. We were getting faster and faster and had a clear lead ... and then something happened - let's just call it a legacy from having three children. Way to come down to earth - not an Olympic sprinter, just a pre-menopausal mother! But it did leave me wondering if that's ever happened at the Olympics. Clean up in aisle three!!

Yes, it's still all about the Olympics for just tiny bit longer. I had a really enjoyable night the other night watching the diving. It was the men's 10m platform and it's an event filled with suspense. Will they hit their feet on the platform (yes, a couple did)? Will they his their heads (no one did thank goodness)? And will anyone lose their precariously positioned bathers?

I spent a while discussing optimal swimming costume height with Iven. Personally I like them so the whole gluteal is covered and there is no hint of plumber's crack but boys these days like to wear their costumes low. I also looked with my professional eye at how the pattern on the costume could enhance or disguise the wearers 'package.' And I must emphasise that I did this in a purely professional context!

There was one diver who had a particularly low-cut pair of togs and I watched with interest as he placed his hands on the diving platform and lifted himself slowly into a handstand position. And it was at this point I heard the TV commentator say "if he falls out, he'll lose a lot of points."

Immediately I thought - depends on who's judging. If they're a group of judges who've been reading 50  Shades of Grey during their lunch break he might get a few bonus points, especially if he points his toes. Then I realised that he meant if the diver falls out of the handstand. Perfectly understandable mistake if you ask me.

Ahh, I'm going to miss the Olympics.