I Didn't Run Yesterday

I didn't run yesterday.

I got a reminder that although I've made leaps and strides in my recovery, I aint there yet.

It happens every four to six weeks. I get some of the symptoms that plagued me last year - the fatigue, insomnia, nausea and tingling in some of my muscles -
and I just have to back off. Ride out the storm.

It freaked me out the first time it happened. I'd had a couple of weeks where I was just starting to feel good. All my symptoms had disappeared. Then, overnight, they were back. And they stayed for about ten days.

The next time that it happened I was still a bit freaked but less so than the first time. This time I just know that if I bide my time I'll be feeling normal before long. And I've noticed that these symptomatic periods are getting shorter and shorter.

It makes me angry that a drug that was deemed to be safe by so many official organisations has had such a lasting impact on my life - two years of feeling unwell, of thinking I was a hypochondriac, of accepting my life would probably be limited by fatigue and I wouldn't be able to do the things that I really wanted.

It makes me angry that I spent so much money on doctors and specialists and complementary medicine and supplements for a condition that was caused by a drug that I was prescribed. That all the doctors knew I was taking and not one of them considered could be the cause for all my issues.

It makes me incredibly angry that this drug is still on the market despite so many people having adverse reactions to it - strokes, DVT, gall bladder removal to say nothing of the minor ones that I had which didn't seem minor at the time.

Yaz and all the other oral contraceptives containing drospirenone should have been taken off the chemist shelves years ago. The corporate conscience of Bayer should have made them voluntarily recall their product. But apparently money will trump conscience every time and they're happy to reap it in even if they do have to pay out some of those profits on law suits.

Silly me, I thought that they were making drugs that would improve our lives. You'd think that meant they cared about people.

But on the other hand, these times when I'm feeling symptomatic again are in a strange way, a gift. They remind me just how precious good health is and that I can never take it for granted. They remind me just how wonderful it is to be able to enjoy running again. They make me appreciate all the simple things in life with a renewed gratitude.

So this week will be my easy week. And I'm fine with that. I'm also incredibly grateful that I chose the 5k option for the race this weekend. Even with some minor symptoms I can tough out 5k - might have been a little more challenging if I'd chosen the half marathon.

And next week I'll pick myself up by the bootstraps again and dive back in to my marathon program.

Viral Chocolate Cake

I learnt something last night. Chocolate cakes trump adorable puppies.

I don't think I've ever had such a big reaction on Facebook even when Toby was the cutest thing in the whole wide world.

The big response was because of this -

Just a little chocolate cake I whipped up for the family. As you do, when you've got a few moments spare on the weekend.

I like to make pretty things. And I like to make surprising cakes so when my sister, Julie sent me this picture ...

... I decided to give it a go. But in chocolate because everything's better in chocolate. And I have a great chocolate cake recipe - also given to me by Julie. She got it from a workmate at her hospital who apparently got it off the Cadbury's cocoa packet. We didn't actually know that at the time so instead of being known as the Cadbury Family Chocolate Cake, it's known in our family as Abdul's Chocolate Cake after Abdul her workmate. And I'm going to share it here because a good chocolate cake recipe will go a long way in promoting family harmony, building friendships and ending war. 

Abdul's Chocolate Cake

Ingredients

125 gm butter

1 cup water

1 1/2 cups sugar

3 tbsp cocoa

1/2 tsp bicarb soda

1 1/2 cups self raising flour

2 eggs.

Method

Put the butter, water, sugar, cocoa and bicarb soda into a saucepan over moderately hot heat and bring to the boil, stirring occasionally to make sure the ingredients are well blended. Once the mixture starts to boil take it off the heat and allow to cool a little while. Then gradually whisk in the flour a bit at a time and finally beat in the eggs.

Bake at 160C (fan-forced) until cake springs back under finger pressure. Approx 50mins for this amount of cake mix.

For this cake I tripled the recipe because I wanted four layers and this was enough to make the layers and about 10 extra cupcakes. And because I wanted fairly thin layers so the cake wasn't sky-scraper height and needing an engineer and a building permit to assemble, I used cake tins that were only 2 inches/5cm high and made sure to spray them with oil spray then dust them with flour to prevent sticking. The cakes only needed about 40 mins in the oven.

Once they were fully cool (This took a read of the paper, successfully completing the hard sudoku and a crossword puzzle, having a 2 hour, drool-on-the-pillow sleep and a cup of tea) I got them out of their pans, levelled the top of three of the cakes and then used a big circular cutter to cut holes in the centre of two of the layers. And then I had to make the icing - Chocolate Buttercream

Chocolate Buttercream

Ingredients

340g butter

3 tbsp double cream

1/2 cup cocoa 

4 cups icing mixture

Method

Beat the softened butter for 8-10 minutes with an electric mixer until the butter goes pale. Add in the cream and the sifted dry ingredients and beat on slow speed until the ingredients are mixed in then beat on high to make light and fluffy.

Once the icing was made I assembled it - levelled layer, icing, holey layer, icing, holey layer, icing, fill with lollies/chocolates, then final layer. Then I covered the sides and top with a layer of icing and smoothed the sides. And finally I decorated with rose swirls, sugar flowers, chocolate coated peanuts and tiny silver sprinkles. 

And there was enough icing to decorate the extra cupcakes.

Cake assembly and decoration took about an hour. And then the cake just sat there for a couple of days until I couldn't stand it any longer and cut it open just to take a picture.

Yep, it had worked just like the original photo inspiration.

I put the picture up on Facebook and within an hour there was a tapping at our door. Iven looked at me quizzically because we rarely get evening visitors that aren't expected. But I knew who it was - Coach Chris hadn't been able to resist the lure of all that chocolatey goodness (oh who am I fooling - it's all bad but in a delicious way) and I'd offered him a piece earlier that day. Heaven knows, though, I should have refused him entry after the torturous speed session he'd inflicted earlier that day but my devious mind has me thinking that I can use the cake as bribery to get slightly longer recoveries when we do 400m reps. 50m recovery is not quite long enough.

Why Race?

I've got another race in a week's time. That makes three races in four weeks. What was I thinking?

It's only a 5k race and it was supposed to be my second of the year - until I had a rush of blood to the head and decided that a half marathon interstate was an awesome idea. And it was, despite all the anxiety in the week leading up to it.

I have no doubt that I might get a little wobbly next Sunday morning too. So why do I enter races if they make me nervous?

There's something incredibly character building about racing. For me it's in the realm of "do one thing every day that scares you" - thanks Eleanor Roosevelt for taking me out of my comfort zone.

Racing makes you work hard towards a goal. Focus on one point in time. And makes you muster all your energies and mental strength at that particular point in time to achieve a goal. The goal may be simply to finish, or to run the entire way or it may be to reach a certain time. It really doesn't matter - just having a goal is the scary bit because it makes you aware that failure is a definite possibility.

Most of us don't like to fail. But putting ourselves in a position where we can fail makes the achieving of the goal so much more special. Nothing beats the high that running a PB give you.

Racing helps you train with purpose. Each workout has a reason - to build speed or leg strength or endurance. Or maybe it's to increase your lactate threshold so you can hold a faster speed for a longer period of time. It's harder to blow off a training session because it's raining or cold or you just can't be bothered when you know you've got a race coming up.

But the biggest benefit of racing, for me comes within the race. And it's not about your physical strength. It's about what happens in your head. It's whether you can beat those negative voices that are telling you that you're going too hard. That you won't be able to keep it up. That it's hurting and you have to slow down. That you don't care anyway - when you really do. 

Testing yourself like that, plumbing your inner depths and finding out just how strong you really are, has benefits that can follow you into every aspect of your life. It gives you the confidence to know that you can weather storms, you can endure right to the end, that you have a strong and indomitable spirit.

Racing, for me at this point in my life is all about learning to have faith in myself again. Over the last couple of years with all my confusing medical issues I lost a lot of faith in my body and my mind and even after having just two races under my belt I'm starting to rebuild trust in myself again. 

In fact 'faith and trust' were the words running through my head during last Tuesday's speed session. We were doing 1k and 2k alternating reps. Only 48hrs after running the half in Sydney, I wasn't really sure how my legs would be feeling. And in the first rep I could feel that they were a little bit tired. But those two little words kept coming to me and I tried to just focus on each rep and finishing off that rep strong. Instead of doing what I've done so many times in the past - dying in the last couple of reps - I managed to do my last couple of reps as my fastest.

So I will continue to get out there and race even if it makes me nervous. And maybe in time it'll be something I just take in my stride.

Do you have any other reasons why you race?

Believe It Or Not.

A few weeks ago I was sitting in a hospital emergency ward with Iven and a boy (young man, really) was put into the bed next to us. He'd been getting stuff out of his garage for a garage sale and had stood on some glass. Ouch! We heard the doctor tell him how he would be treated but all he cared about was that he'd be able to run the half marathon that he'd entered five weeks away.

When the doctor left I popped my head around the corner, blatantly told him that I'd been eavesdropping and asked if it was the Sydney Morning Herald half marathon. Yes, he was doing his first one down in Sydney with his Mum and had run 15k just that morning in preparation.

The doctors stitched him up and sent him on his way with a promise that he would be fine by race day.

Last Sunday morning while we were walking to the race start we got stopped at a set of lights with some other runners. Sam commented that it looked like a mum with her two sons. That reminded me about my hospital buddy and when I looked over one of the boys seemed a little familiar. He looked at me too but I didn't see any recognition in his eyes and I really wasn't too sure.

I made my way to the never-ending portaloo queues and who happens to stand beside me in the next queue but the same boy. Of course I couldn't help but satisfy my curiosity. (There's nothing weird about talking to strange young men in toilet queues). And of course, in the tens of thousands of people there that morning I happened to find the boy from the hospital.

*****

A few of you who have commented have expressed a desire to one day visit Sydney. I can heartily recommend it but I would like to add a proviso that will make your trip more pleasant. 

Make sure you be wary of beggars and thieves.

This little fellow looked like he was from a nice home but he obviously didn't get fed enough. Those sad brown eyes watched every mouthful of my post-run breakfast enter my mouth and he even had the gall to tap me on the leg when my plate was getting close to empty. 

No, I didn't share. I am a heartless human being.

And this sneaky individual is one of a team of thieves that operate around Circular Quay and other touristy locations in the harbour city. He skulked around our table while we ate lunch, waiting for his moment to swoop in and seize whatever he could make off with. 

Earlier that day we'd seen the gang in operation down at Darling Harbour and they scored big-time! An untouched rasher of bacon. Dividing up the spoils was an ugly affair and I'm pretty sure that the ring-leader diddled his gang out of their share. 

And then there's the red-crested spoon bill, who's adapted to her preferred diet and habitat by always having a tasting spoon on hand. She swoops in on the unwary ice cream eater and before you know it, a spoonful of that delicious creamy treat has disappeared. This bird is not at all aggressive though and can be tamed to make a lovely pet. (Love you Hannah!)

Avoid any of these and you'll have a great trip ... unless you find a red back spider on your toilet seat.

Sydney

A week full of nerves and anxiety and self-doubt came to a head yesterday morning when I lined up with my big boy Sam in front of St Mary's Cathedral in Sydney.

Actually I'll backtrack a little bit. Friday's flight went without a glitch. Smooth sailing right from the moment we left home till when we landed in Sydney. Sam's girlfriend, Hannah met us at the airport and seeing the two of them together was probably the highlight of the whole weekend. Their greeting was like one you see in a big Hollywood romance where the girl is swept into her soul-mate's arms and the violins swell. Made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

Hannah got us to the hotel safely and quickly and proceeded to be the best guide and Sherpa ever.

Saturday was filled with nothing special - eating breakfast at Darling Harbour, wandering around the city, buying undies that wouldn't ride up during the running (Sam didn't quite follow the rule of never wearing anything untested in a race but I'm pretty sure he came out unscathed).

Breakfast at Darling Harbour

In the afternoon we checked out some of the race course to take some photos and see the start precinct.

Pristine, unsullied portaloos

The finish line

Sydney Harbour Bridge

Sydney Opera House

I'd had little nerve flutters all day but managed to keep them from getting out of control. Walking around definitely helped. Seeing the race precinct definitely didn't. Luckily I tripped up a set of stairs and almost fell and that kept them contained for a while. I DID manage to eat a bit. When I get really nervous I just can't eat and I'd not been eating particularly well all week because of it. It makes for very pathetic carb-loading. But I couldn't face going out for dinner so I stayed in the room and tried to eat what I could - a banana, a handful of nuts and a scone. 

Sleep was erratic Saturday night but that's the norm before a race. We got up with the alarm at 5:30 and got ready. The nerves were still in check and I started to believe that I'd make it to the line unmedicated. We left the room around 6:00 for the short walk to Hyde Park.

It was teeming with people. There were over 10000 finishers so that gives you an idea of how long the toilet queues were. I'm pretty sure I was in line for at least fifteen minutes and I couldn't believe how long some people take. I thought pre-race jitters made everything happen quicker. 

We got to the start line with only about ten minutes to spare but because we hadn't entered early enough, we were in the last starting group so were hundreds of metres away from where the gun went off. In fact, I didn't even hear the gun go off. I'd managed to find the only other GaleForce runner, Jan, that was in our starting group and we spent the time till we could start moving just chatting away.

Eventually we were off - and by eventually I mean fifteen minutes after the start. There were hordes of people in front and to the side and behind so it was pretty hard to get into a rhythm. I lost Sam and Jan after about a kilometre but that was an inevitability and I hadn't wanted to run anyone's race but my own.

My plan had been to take it out slow and warm into it. I'd been thinking high 5's for the first few k's but my legs had other ideas -5:17, 4:59, 5:02 for the first three k. It was about then that I decided to just go with it and hope that it didn't come back to bite me later on. It was a bit hard, though, to let go of that little inkling of worry that I still couldn't trust my body but I think after being so unwell for so long that's only to be expected.

The route was pretty convoluted and undulating. I haven't really done any hill work but I found that I was passing lots of people up the hills then instead of just plodding down the other side, I used the down-hills to push along. I was actually enjoying the hills. 

And while I was running I was distracting myself from those little niggly doubts with thoughts of the support that I've had from squad mates, friends, family and my lovely bloggy friends. It felt like everyone was there in spirit cheering me on. 

Around the 15k mark I did tire a little. Some of it was knowing that there was still 1/3 of the race to go. Some of it was that the negative thoughts were getting a little more insistent. And some was the realisation that I hadn't needed to tighten my left shoe after all. My hips have been a little dodgy for a while because I'd lost so much muscle strength when I was testosterone-deficient and running a hilly course faster than I usually would was starting to take a toll. My left knee started to get a familiar grabbing twinge. My ITB was tightening up and that was making it hard to run the up-hills with any power. But luckily it didn't get to the really painful stage where it's hard to run so I tottered up the rest of the hills as best I could and prayed that there wouldn't be too many more.

By about 17k we were back near Hyde Park and could see the finish line and this gave me a real boost. I knew we were heading into the botanical gardens for a loop but it was really nearing the end. I've done that loop before as part of a different race and really enjoyed the scenery and it was no different yesterday. Yes, I was tired and my knee was niggly, but I was feeling really positive.

Out of the gardens there was only about a kilometre to run so I did my best to put on a little speed. But it was hopeless - the road was so congested with other runners it was hard to push through. No finishing sprint this time. The clock said 2:06 when I crossed the line but my watch said 1:51:39. My fastest time since 2010.

                                           

Sam was waiting for me as I got through the crowds. He had no idea what his finish time was but when we looked through the results later that night We saw that he was now the holder of the fastest half time in our family - 1:42:28. I'm so proud of him!                                             

And me? I'm happy. I finished 33rd  out of 225 in my age group. And I know that there's more improvement to come if I can run without the congestion and continually having to slow till I can find a clear path. My confidence in my recovery has improved and I will have more faith in myself next time. 

Yes, there's already a next time in my diary. I've entered the Jetty 2 Jetty half in July. Maybe sub-1:50??

Keep Calm And ...

I'm not sure if it's because I've run out of adrenalin and cortisol or if it's because of all the positive calming vibes people are sending from all over the world BUT today I woke up calm. And that's bizarre because today's the day I get on the flying tin can that's going to take me over 1000 k away from my comfort zone.

And yes, I'm still feeling calm.

And no, I haven't taken any drugs today.

See I told you I was crazy.

I'd totally expected to wake up around 2am in a lather of sweat and bubbling over with nervous tension. I'd taken precautions too and stocked up just in case of an apoocalypse. At least we'll be fully prepared in case of family outbreak of diarrhoea.

I still can't tell you exactly why I was feeling so out-of-control with anxiety but I can tell you that it is awesome to be feeling back to my normal, only slightly psycho self. 

I'm pretty sure that part of the reason why I've calmed down is that I've told everyone (and I do mean worldwide admission of my own personal crazy). Not having to hide it actually took a lot of pressure off. I told Sam that his Mum might need extra support and his response was absolutely 100% supportive (plus he told me that whenever he feels a little bit nervous he just reminds himself of how awesome that he is and the nerves vanish - my boy doesn't have too many problems with self-esteem). I told Hannah, his girlfriend and she too was supportive - even offered to be my own personal drug-pusher. I told Coach Chris and he was great too - he'll understand if I can't make dinner Saturday night. I've had lovely texts and phone calls from my breakfast buddies, Bec and Jenny. And from family and other members of the squad. It's like everyone's lending a hand to carry me to the starting line and give me a shove over it.

And the comments on my post have been wonderful. They've confirmed again what an amazing supportive community that runners are worldwide. You guys will all be with me in Sydney on Sunday morning.

Me? Crazy?? Absolutely!

As I get older I become more and more convinced that each of us have a little bit of crazy in us. I'm quite happy to admit that I have more than a little bit. I haven't decided yet if I want to call my crazy an eccentricity or if crazy sounds a little bit more fun. Either way this week's crazy has been making my life a little more challenging.

This week's crazy has to do with the little matter of a half marathon that I'm running in Sydney this weekend.

It's supposed to be a fun excuse for a weekend away with my first born and his girlfriend (who just happens to be studying medicine down in Sydney so it really wasn't hard to convince Sam to be my companion). Sam and I are flying down Friday. Hannah's meeting up with us and we'll spend a leisurely day on Saturday enjoying ourselves. Then Sunday we'll be walking a couple of blocks to the start of the race, running 21.1k, having a nice breakfast then back home to Brisbane.

That's the plan anyway. And on paper it looks great. But somewhere along the way my twisted mind has made it something to worry about. And I've been screwing myself up in knots every day so far this week trying to convince myself not to pull out.

I can't even pin-point exactly what I'm worried about. I've had issues flying before but not for at least five years. I've had some really ugly races in the past few years because of my testosterone deficiency but all that is under control now. So far this year I've run 20k at least 10 times and I've done even more 16k runs so I know I can do the distance.

There is absolutely no reason why I should be feeling this anxious - but somewhere along the way my body didn't get that memo and it continues to pump out copious amounts of cortisol and adrenaline and that's not what you want leading into a half marathon. Especially when they make you feel sick in the stomach. So much for carb-loading. But on the up side there'll be a few extra kilos that I won't have to lug around the course with me.

The thing that concerns me most is that if I don't get down there and do this thing, there's no way that I'll be able to fly to Melbourne for the marathon later this year so by hook or by crook I have to make it happen.

So my goals for this weekend are not time-related. My goals are to firstly make it onto the plane in one piece (not with my lunch left in a toilet somewhere). Then to get through Saturday without thinking too much about Sunday. Then finally to get to the starting line on Sunday morning. I know that once I'm there and we're running I'll be fine. And I know that once I've crossed the finish line I'll want to do it all over again.

See I said I was crazy!