Sisters are Doing it for Themselves!!

Sunday 17th June 2007- what a day!!

I wanted to write this posting on Sunday after the Race for Life and then again on Monday, but every muscle ached in my body including my fingers!!!!!!! So this is the first time that I have felt physically and mentally astute enough to put pen to paper and the first time since sunday that it doesn’t hurt to cough!!

As you know I decided to up the ante in my training schedule some weeks back and actually attempted to do some running. A week before the race I managed to run 4km with my personal trainers in tow. It’s fair to say that it nearly killed me!! As I lay horizontal on my doorstep awaiting P, who was in charge of the door key, to let me in (I certainly didn’t have the strength to find the hole let alone unlock the door!), my lovely Sun ran towards me, arms open and gave me a big cuddle. I believe it may have been the shortest cuddle in history, as he instantaneously leapt backwards, obviously physically repelled, shouting “HOT MUMMY HOT”. And that is how I remained for the rest of the day….very hot, sweating and red faced!! And I failed to do any further exercise for the rest of the week, citing a bad back and aching Achilles for my lack of effort!!

I knew prior to the race that Rosemary, Jane and Liz would be walking around Lydiard on the day and I truly struggled with whether or not to join them. In the name of camaraderie I really should have joined the Sisterhood of the Do La La’s and walked loud and proud with them around the course, re-living our journey together and crossing the finishing line as one happy band of sisters, but I had trained to run it, as miserable as it was and I felt that I would be letting myself and others down if I didn’t at least try.

It was with more than a hint of anxiety that I headed off towards the blue flag which would lead the runners to the start line, knowing that my friends were heading to the pink flag with the rest of the walkers and that that would be the last I saw of them until the race was over. And to be honest I felt just a little lonely and insignificant amongst the many women who had turned out to run the race. But the day wasn’t about my feelings and the heartfelt messages carried by each woman on the back of her tee-shirt was a stark reminder of the number of people who are affected by cancer every day. There were women who were running for 3 generations of cancer victims within their family; mum, grandmother and great grandmother, women running for their young children, whose hairless photos were emblazoned upon the rear of the runners’ tee-shirts, women running for loved ones who had passed away as a result of cancer and women running for those who had survived this frightening and unpredictable disease. Hundreds of women had congregated at Lydiard Park on that Sunday morning and stood side by side with one thing in common; the desire to raise money and awareness for cancer research.

The atmosphere was one of positivity with an electric energy buzzing throughout the park which was bought on by the belief that by racing together we could really help to knock out cancer once and for all. Although it was not spoken, it felt as if every woman there was willing her fellow racers on to finish the course and collect their medals.

Standing at the start line with hundreds of other women, we began to count ourselves down to the start of the race.

I took a MP3 player with me on the morning and was convinced that the right music would help my running rhythm. I was determined to start off with an empowering track that would really spur me on and make me feel proud that I was taking part. I cued my chosen song ready for the off and then managed to hit the play button by mistake. 10, 9, 8, the count down had started and was led by an announcer on a large sound system…..oh no, stop the track… 7, 6…..Oh Gawd, where’s the back button…. 5…..there it is, rewind it, quick….4, 3…. come on, cue it Jules, cue it. You dont want to be faffing about with it when the horn goes…2…. at last, there it is…. 1, GOOD LUCK LADIES. Then: “I am what I am, I am my own perfect creation, lalalala”, blasting in my ears. I tucked my MP3 player into my lucky sports bra (in truth my only sports bra) and off I went.

You will be pleased to know that it only took 4km for me to get in the swing of it and the last 1km was relatively a piece of cake!!!

After only 500m my calves were screaming at me to stop.

At 1km I nearly died of hysterical laughter when I realised that I had only run 1km, when in fact I was sure that I was already half way there.

At 2km I thought my head was going to explode and convinced that I was now sporting a purple complexion, awaited a Race Marshall to pull me from the race before calling St John’s Ambulance to my aid.

At 3km I wasn’t sure if I was having a heart attack or if my lungs were going to spontaneously combust.

At 3.5km I saw P cheering me on and even came for a little jog with me for moral support.

At 4km the Race Marshalls were applauding and shouting “It’s just round the field now, you’re nearly there.” And it was! There in sight was the finishing line and I ran slowly to complete the race (actually I ran as fast as my legs would let me, which by that stage was incredibly slowly!!)

Coming through the finishing line was quite an emotional experience. It felt quite solitary, finishing and then being directed round to collect my medal and bottle of water. And although there were many people crossing the line with me there was really nobody that I could say “f**k me, I’m knackered” to.

That feeling didn’t last long though and having pushed my way through the crowds at the finishing line, I saw the smiling faces of P and Sun and I suddenly felt extremely proud, not just because I had finished the Race but proud that P was so proud of me.

So there you have it. I came in, in about 43 minutes and all the while wearing my crap trainers. I don’t think I’ll be making the 2012 Olympics unless it’s selling programmes at the door, but I got round and am more than happy with the result.

A week and a half ago, I vowed never to run again but having completed the Race for Life, I am now not so sure. I would secretly like to improve on my time and even maybe train for a 10km!!! OMG I’ve become an adrenaline junkie…who’d have thought it???

With the task in hand done, this should be my last posting, which I actually feel quite despondent about. As Rosemary has said in her last post if you would like us to continue, do leave us a comment and I’m sure we can come up with some more rubbish for you to read. Alternatively, if you have another sponsored event in mind that Rosemary and I can train for (please make it physical and not a sponsored silence!!) then let us know your ideas. We look forward to hearing from you.

So long for now.

Julie ;0)

One small step for mankind- 5km for Rosemary and Julie

Ah, how virtuous do we feel, after the event??


Sunday saw the dawn of a new day and a new challenge- the Race for Life. We were in luck in terms of the weather- the rain held back, it was sunny but with a lovely breeze so my predictions and anxieties relating to being in the rain were null and void.



The most amazing aspect of the day were all the messages written on the back of each runner. As you may well know you are sent a race number for your front and a sheet for your back which says " I run for........." So many people had dedicated their efforts to friends and family members who have passed over, many people had photographs on their sheets or on their t-shirts and the reality of this was very acute. A small girl, probably aged about 5 years old, was dressed all in pink and her handwriting on her back told us that she was running for her Daddy. If ever we needed a reason for doing the race that was it.



An apt time to quote you my favourite quote:



If you think you're too small to have an impact, try going to bed with a mosquito in the room.Anita Roddick


Mosquito- as in the picture of this crochet finger puppet mosquito (why would you?!)

Julie ran on ahead (traitor! what happened to sisterhood?!!!) and the masses got going. The course is lovely, all around the grounds of Lyddiard Park. Strangely most of the "race marshalls" (v v important people as entitled to wear a high viz jacket and therefore 'have power') were men and they valiantly smiled and occassionally clapped as we went past with the odd one making a comment about 'not far to go now, just up the hill..........................' hilarious.



One of the funny things that we (me, Jane and Liz) talked about on the way round was how virtuous we felt going round knowing that we had put the effort in to do the event and raise money. In our view the people who stood spectating should also have taken part! now I think that was probably the effect of us "hitting the wall" than any hint of smugness.



Actually the spectators were an essential component of the day- all the friends and families of the runners and walkers who had supported them on the build up to the race and during the day. Many of the spectators were overcome with emotions which was humbling to see. Thank you to everyone who came to watch the event and to those who were too hungover to get there on time (you know who you are T & L)



A final comment on the day was made by Ben at about 8pm- "you know Mum you can take that medal off you know" Not a chance mate!



On a slightly different note - we are considering keeping up this rambling diatribe called a blog. Is it worth it? is anyone actually reading it? leave us a comment and Terry Wogan will announce the results next week.



Health and happiness



Rosemary

XX

Blaggers blog

Hello,

you can probably tell by that masculine "Hello" that this isn't Rosemary writing this, although neither am I just some arbitary blogjacking bloke. My name is Dave and I am one of the people Rosemary is running the Race of Life for.

I could tell early on that Rosemary needed some help with her training, so I got cancer in order to motivate her a little which seemed to do the trick.

I was diagnosed with a tumour on my kidney in early May, but before the month was over both the cancer and the kidney were gone and I'd been given the all clear.

Whilst this is great news on a personal level, obviously it has connotations for Rosemary's training regime, So I felt duty bound to travel to equitorial Wiltshire to oversee her programme for myself which seems to me to consist mainly of white wine and shoe shops.

I have tried to impart some advice which in true Rosemary style has been roundly ignored, so I have succumbed to the old maxim, "You can always tell a Norland girl, but you can't tell her much." It turns out that the real reason for luring me down here for the weekend was not in fact to help put the finishing touches to both her training and Steve's Jack Daniels but to be coerced into writing her blog for her.

I am a bit of a virgin at blogging (in so far as it's possible to be a bit of a virgin) so you'll have to excuse the unprofessionalism, but here is my story.



I was born at a very early age, and then 43 years later I got cancer. Actually I never had cancer, but my kidney did. There is still a belief in this country that cancer = death, I suppose I am testament to that not being true.

I was lucky. Everybody told me so, and at first I found it difficult to juxtapose the two words, lucky and cancer, they go together like horse and fromage frais as far as I could see, but then I came around: I was lucky to have found the tumour so quickly, lucky to be relatively young, lucky that it was confined to an organ which has a spare, lucky to be living in the area I do, and lucky that the operation could be performed by keyhole surgery. I was so lucky in fact that I named the tumour "Lucky" on the basis that if it were a dog with that name it was bound to get knocked down on the A46.
I lost Lucky on May 25th and came out of hospital three days later. (Went back in after a couple of ays with an infecton, but that's all acqdemic now.)
It is now two weeks since my operation, I'm sitting in Rosemary's garden, high on life, friendship and the consequences of testing out my remaining kidney with Steve's wine cellar. One of the first things I did after getting the all clear was to get my hair cut (I refused to waste £8 in case I had to have chemotherapy) and to get out and see people. I can't begin to tell you how good life is, and how good it is to know there are people like Rosemary and Julie who are prepared to go through this rigorous training routine(!) on behalf of people they don't necessarily know.
I'm aware how lucky I am, and even more aware that not everyone gets my luck. If I could share it out I would, but I know I can't which is why I feel so humbled by the efforts of Rosemary, Julie and everyone who Runs for Life. So thank you to everybody who has sponsored anybody for next Sunday's event, and good luck to everyone taking part, especially to Rosemary who was supposed to have my face as her spur to cross the finishing line, but who now probably won't bother. Go Ro Go.

“Home is the place where it feels right to walk around without shoes.” Anon

My family and I have decided to put our house on the market and up-route to hopefully some lovely location with a bit more space inside and out than we currently have.

We bought our home just over 4 years ago and have gutted it, replacing the bathroom and kitchen, re-plastering the walls, refitting windows, landscaping the gardens and redecorating throughout. We are, justly in our eyes, very proud of our achievements so imagine our disappointment when reading the less than mediocre estate agent details that were produced in order to sell our property. I can’t quite remember the exact wording but it read something like this:

Another Chalet House for Sale in Nythe:
2 bed semi, presented in alright sort of order. Nothing special and quite frankly a little overpriced for what it is. Property consists of:

Entrance Hall
Leading to:

Lounge
Tired looking lounge comprising radiator and scratched floorboards where once vanish lay. Large picture window and photographic shrine to the “only” child

Kitchen/Diner
Range of base and eye level units in beech, drawers to match (thank goodness), stainless steel sink, integral appliances, oil splashes and ketchup stained white walls and rancid smell of fish throughout. French doors to garden.

Stairs leading to:

Bedroom 1
Radiator and full length mirror wardrobe doors with view from bed (what do these people get up to!!)

Bedroom 2
Radiator; that’s it!

Family Bathroom
Cramped bathroom with white suite refitted in Italian style, or so they reckon. Larger than average bath to accommodate the larger than average current owners.


I am sure you get the idea!! Couple this with a dozen factual errors on room sizes, our driveway, kitchen and study and I can’t help but think that our particular estate agent is feeling rather disillusioned with his chosen field of work. I have obviously rewritten it for our poor chap so that it now sounds more appealing and will be deducting it from the final bill when we eventually sell. I think that’s only fair, don’t you?

They say that buying and selling houses can be quite stressful and to avoid the mad rush to pack at the last minute I have been trying to sort through cupboards and the like on those few occasions when my 25 month old boy is otherwise occupied. Last week, absorbed in chucking out my chintz, it was a while before I realised that Sun was being rather quiet!!!!! As I listened more closely I could hear a rustling of my sports bag which contains our swimming kit and my headphones and water bottle for the gym. Sun is rather keen on my water bottle and I thought that was what he was after. Imagine my surprise then to see Sun stark naked wearing nothing but a pair of swimming goggles!!!! Ah Bless!!!! Once I had finished laughing, I gave him a big cuddle and told him how clever he was for being able to take all his clothes and nappy off without any help from Mummy. I hope for more little amusing interludes from Sun to put moving stresses and in fact life into perspective!!

On another note, my back is on the mend and training is going ok. My flat feet and clicking Achilles are holding out (see My Achilles heel may well be my Achilles heel). My new trainers are still looking quite pristine which probably indicates that either I’m very light footed or haven’t done enough training (I know which I would rather believe!! ), but as they are the pair that my physiotherapist advised me not to wear, I am considering selling them and putting the money towards a proper pair. So in the style of my disenchanted estate agent:


For Sale:
One pair of crap trainers. Superb little runners. Excellent condition. Blue with silver go-faster-stripes and light smearing of dog poo on left nearside. Low mileage. One careful lazy owner.
Offers invited.

Let me know if you are interested!!

Til next time.

Julie ;0)

BBC World Service- Look out!

Well, it seems that Julie and I have arrived at that sought after blogger status- being read across the world. We are being read from Leicester to Moscow (thanks Lucy- http://lucylastic.wordpress.com/- do read it, its great) to Alabama. Not bad for our first attempt at public writing. The BBC World Service definitely has competition and we aren't bound by political handcuffs either! Thanks for all your comments- we love them.

Julie has been over doing it- as you've no doubt read she is not only a yummy mummy, but an excellent housewife, growing her own vegetables and recycling her teabags. However, possibly the remark she made about her bowel movements in her last blog has had some sort of effect or she's been cleaning again and now has a bad back. Take care Julie- collapse on the sofa and let P look after you. P can even clean the floor if she follows the picture and does it exactly like this.........................photographic evidence please.

Am going to attempt to do some exercise this weekend, hopefully the weather will be kinder than last weekend and the world will seem a better place. One thing that I need to remember is to stretch before I start to walk/strutt as this always seems like a good idea. I arrive at the destination, think about it, say hi to Julie or chat with Steve, start walking or cycling and then think "rats, I should have....................................stretched!!! ARGHHHHH"- anyone got any good suggestions for helping me remember to do this?

I am also thinking about asking SurrAlun Tate & Lyle to get his last remaining (pitiful) Apprentice hopefuls to help Julie and I raise our fundraising profile during this final two weeks before the race. For those of you following this fascinating, yet depressing saga (The Apprentice I mean, not our blog) can you just imagine Katie and Tre thinking up ways to gather in those last remaining sponsors?

Until I return dear friends................................once more to Coate Water

R

“If You Would Be Happy Your Whole Life Long, Become A Gardener” Old Chinese Proverb

I have just read Rosemary’s blog and nearly pooed myself when I realised that the Race for Life is so near!!!

With that in mind, let’s not talk about it!!!

Hasn’t the weather been atrocious for a bank holiday? The garden at least is enjoying the rain, which reminds me, I really must decant some of the pond water, from our raised half-barrel water feature, into the water butt before Nemo, our resident fish, (Sun chose the name!!) accidentally swims over the side of what is fast becoming an “infinity” style pool and plunges to his untimely death (for explanation of infinity pool see Viva Espana).

Frustratingly, the rain has not only interrupted my running schedule but has also kept me from my beloved garden. Some of you will know that I am in fact a budding Alan Titchmarsh or more accurately a budding Carol Klein who has inspired me to have a go at growing my own veg, in her aptly named gardening programme and best selling book to accompany the programme, “Grow Your Own Veg”!! I can’t help questioning how much effort was put into naming this programme!!!

In spite of its name, the programme itself was a thing of beauty, with Ms Klein, enthusiastically sowing, reaping and cooking organic produce all in the space of 30 minutes.
Misty camera shots of Carol working and walking her way around her small-holding, stopping only to hand feed a tame robin and smell a flower in full bloom, were complemented by a soundtrack straight from the love and peace hippy/folk era of the 1960’s.
Long summer evenings were exploited to the full on this programme, with scenes of Carol, after a long day tilling the soil with home-made, peat-free compost, being served a bowl of lightly cooked fresh broad beans straight from the garden, by her adoring husband. The beans, apparently according to Carol, were delicious and were accompanied only by a large glass of chilled white wine, which was no doubt produced from local grapes picked and squeezed using peasant methods and incurring zero carbon points. The almost pornographic images of condensation trickling its way down the curvaceous wine glass bowl and the evenings sun-rays dancing on top of the clear white wine, was enough to de-wagonise (own word but I think it works!) most reformed alcoholics.
And all the while serenaded by Joni Mitchell. Perfect. And to think they paved paradise and put up a parking lot!!!

Suitably inspired, I have recently stripped my appalling leather-jacket infested lawn and replaced it with raised beds in which to grow my own veg. So far I have found that it doesn’t seem quite as romantic as the programme had me believe!!
Let me re-write the above passage for you and you will see what I mean:

Misty mornings see Julie working and walking around her small-garden stopping only to shout at Sun to go back inside and get his shoes on before he comes out in the rain. Julie struggles to find anything in bloom in the garden but when she does she leans over and gives it a good sniff only to get a fly lodged in the back of her nose and then spends most of the morning sneezing like a horse with hay fever.

Julie plants onion sets, which are then promptly removed by Sun who checks to see if they have grown. Julie then sows a variety of seeds in carefully prepared drills which are then dug up by the family cats who think the raised beds are super large litter trays. And all in the space of 30 minutes.

Ms Lender-Swains home-made compost is smelly and sludgy and full of flies, so Julie tills the soil using the cheapest buy 2 get the 3rd free compost offer from Wickes.

As the sun goes down at about 4.30pm, Julie after a long day working in the garden and with a back as stiff as a board returns indoors to prepare the evening meal. Burnt pizza, served only with a large glass of warm (forgot to chill it!) Australian Chenin Blanc. The meal according to Julie was disgusting and accompanied only by the slightest disappointment of the enormous carbon footprint that her days gardening has stamped on an already stressed environment. Depressed, Julie slumps in front of the TV and scoffs a family bag of Revels.
And all the while serenaded by Sun’s 100th rendition of Incy Wincy Spider.


However not one for being put off at the first hurdle, I have persevered and am very pleased to report that my veg and salad crop are doing fabulously well. In fact today I will be doing something with 10 tonne of spinach that I have single-handedly produced!!!!!!! Not sure what yet…..a vat of soup maybe? But if you have a better recipe for spinach and swiss chard then please feel free to post a comment!!

I suppose I should mention that I have been to the gym this morning and managed to run 5 km on a cross-trainer without stopping!! Quite pleased with that but still think I am probably 4 weeks off of running it proper!!! But I am keeping at it and will see how it goes.

On another short note, Rosemary and I are quite interested to know if anyone is actually reading this blog, so please if you have time post a comment we would love to hear from you.

Farewell for now

Julie ;0)

Devilled Kidney's for tea?

OK, OK, so I haven't had chance to blog for a few days, its not a crime is it? Jeez.

The Race for Life is creeping nearer, two weeks on Sunday and it feels good to be looking forward to it rather than dreading it. We've not been great with the training, but we've not been bad either, so I guess they just cancel each other out and we've been OK. Went for a walk with Julie around Coate Water one day this week and we managed to talk the whole way round which was good for our fitness and good for our friendship.

This has been one of the real bonus's of this training- getting time to just be together with no other distractions and having the time to chat mindlessly and to chat specifically about things that are happening in our lives. We've talked about keeping up the training after the race (Julie even mentioned something about the 5 peaks climb this week- my guess is that the pharmacist muddled up her HRT with someone else's medication) and I think that we should definitely keep getting out there and keeping active.

My friend Dave had his kidney removed on Friday and hopefully the damn cancer with it as well. It was a major operation and took about 6 hours. The surgeons told Dave and Maria that they appeared to have caught it early- thanks to Maria's insistence that Dave see the Doc for an unrelated pain, hence the investigation- and that normally the cancer grows 'fingers' which reach out to join themselves to any obliging nearby organs. Because they have removed it now this hasn't happened which is a hugely positive thing to happen.

The Doctors gave some great advice to Dave- "listen to your wife" which I can only say is a very sensible thing for Dave to do for the rest of his (long) life. Thanks to Maria, and the medical services the prognosis should be a very positive one. Reminds me that the money that is being raised by the Race for Life also contributes to this too. My site has recently adopted a funny glitch- every time someone sponsors me they get an automated email from me via the site thanking them. However, it currently thanks them from Gerald Deacon who is my lovely Dad! I did call the help centre at Race for Life to enquire what had occurred and how to remedy it, but alas there is no remedy, and in fact it has happened to other Race for Lifer's too. I think that when I logged in using my name and log in and my Dad's bank card so that he could sponsor my son's girlfriend (c'mon keep up) the system decided that I was undergoing a name change. My page (http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/uberfast) now tells you that Gerald Deacon is the page creator- hence the only man completing the all female race.............I'm all for diversity and equal opportunities, and keeping it in the family.

Dave remains in hospital and is still quite ill, but lets hope that as each day goes by he gets stronger and more able to wave goodbye to his devilled kidney. In tribute to the success of Dave's operation Steve and I cracked open a very special bottle of Silver Select Jack Daniels on Friday evening and drank a toast to him. Maria sent us a text message from Dave saying that this was out of order as we were meant to be saving it to drink with him............. Maria did say that the morphine was making Dave talk rubbish...................................................

Cheers Dave, there's plenty left in the bottle, might go well with steak and kidney pie?

XX to your good health

((HUG)) for Maria too

R

Viva Espana- We're off to Sunny Spain

Good afternoon people.

I am writing this from a gloriously sunny back garden in Swindon.I am typing between daydreams of my forthcoming week in Spain. Just a few days after completing the Race for Life, I will be jetting off with P and Sun to Nerja in Andalucía for a week of rest and relaxation by our villas private “infinity pool”.
Now, I don’t know how many of you are familiar with the “infinity” concept but apparently it means situated in such a way that it does not appear to have an edge on at least one side; our pool for example drops away over the side of one of the lovely Andalucían mountains and you therefore have a wonderful view whilst swimming in the pool. I shamefully, was not familiar with the “infinity” concept and embarrassed myself, just recently, by telling all and sundry that an infinity pool was shaped in a figure of 8 and as such you could swim around the edge of a pool for infinity without colliding with a pool side- as you would if you just swam up and down the length or indeed breadth of a standard pool!!! After much laughter (not mine), I was educated by my dear friend Rosemary, of the real meaning of the “infinity” concept but not before I had blamed P (my very intelligent other half) for misinforming me in the first instance!!!

So with time gathering speed and our holiday fast approaching I have been trying to organise a few essentials such as sun cream, new tee shirts for Sun, Travel Wash, and mosquito killer for P and I have also been agonising over matters such as shall I pack my period knickers just in case (only God knows the answer to that one!!) and even more painfully, what will my pool side attire be this year? Now, had P, Sun and I been travelling alone, it wouldn’t have been an issue but Rosemary and Steve and our good friend Jane (see And We’re Off… for low-down on Jane!!) are coming with us.

Let me explain my anxiety. As a mere strip of a girl, I was persuaded by a close friend to have a tattoo discretely placed on my body. Not being terribly brave I chose a small but beautiful (now considered naff) butterfly and decided that it would have to be tattooed low down on my left hip, so that I could show it off or keep it hidden from others. Little did I know that not even I would see it for the best part of these last ten years!! It has lain hidden, even from me, under an unsightly fold of (I would like to say relaxed muscle!!) tummy fat!!

The good news is, that as a result of my training programme for the race, P tells me that the little fellow has started to emerge and I have in truth glimpsed on a couple of occasions, the tip of his left wing. So things are looking up, not least my stomach, and if I keep the running up after the Race for Life my little butterfly may well be in full flight again one day!!! Hooray!!!

But for now, my pool attire dilemma remains and I am left wondering how I can get as much sun on my body, God knows it needs it, without putting our fellow travellers off of their grilled squid or indeed having the Spanish equivalent of air-sea rescue trying to rope me and drag me back down to the ocean, where all beached whales surely belong.

It is obviously time for another trip to Evans- the outsize store- as my Dad insists on calling it. And to think I once asked an Evans store assistance if they had a skirt in a size 12; not because I wanted to buy it but just because I could!! That’ll teach me!!!

Quote of the week:

P: Hey look at you, you’ve lost weight.
Me: Really, have I?
P: Absolutely. You only have 2 bellys now!!!!

Til next time
Julie

;0)

Gentlemen....we can rebuild her!!!

P: “Look at Mummy, Sun; she looks like the bionic woman!! You are too young to know about her but she was a bit like that man who ran this year’s marathon in slow motion!! That’s right, that’s what Mummy’s doing!!”

Call me old fashioned, but does that sound like encouragement to you? There I was jogging in the pouring rain feeling quite smug with myself as I had increased my running time to 3 minutes before I had to walk and then that comment hit me from my blind side, knocking me and my fragile confidence sideways.
Undeterred however and as if to show P and Sun what Mummy is really made of, I sprinted the last 100 metres up my street and to my front door. For more dramatic effect (and for the benefit of any neighbours who may have been watching), I doubled over, grasped my knees with my hands, put a grimace on my face, squinted my eyes and heaved my entire body in an effort to fill it to capacity with much needed oxygen.

P: “Well Done. You have shaved 2 minutes off your previous time. Carry on like that and this time next year you will be ready to actually run the race!!!!!!!!”

I however remain optimistic, even if I do run look like Im running in slow motion!!!!

At this point in the blog, I thought I would say something amusing about the state of my wet hair, but Rosemary has already commented on the same subject (see Hurdles Overcome) so in order to be original I am not going to mention it, suffice to say, it was plastered down with a middle parting and needed only a hair grip on either side to take me back to my greasy-haired, shy, spotty, childhood days!!!! Which leads me to conclude, that I shouldn’t bother with expensive face creams to take the years off…….a run in the rain is free and turns back the clock by 30 years!!!!

Adios Amigos

Julie

Run Forest Run!!!

Life is like a box of chocolates, apparently.
Fitness and weight loss wise, some chocolates are better for you than others. For example, one gets more exercise eating a chocolate toffee, with lots of jaw movement required and therefore more calorific consumption than I would eating a strawberry cream, which really requires nothing more than a swift tongue against the top of the mouth action to squash and swallow it in about 1 second flat (my opinion only, not scientifically evidenced!!).

And that dear reader is how I have come to view my training schedule in recent days.
With just 5 weeks to go until the big day, I have after consultation with a close marathon- running friend, come to the conclusion that if I am to have any chance of running this race, I really must up the ante. I must forget the pleasurable power walking, which is still exercise in its own right, and instead must chew on the idea of the more energy- consuming run.

Now I know that I could power-walk 5k without too much difficulty and apparently that is quite acceptable, but what sort of challenge would that be? Bizarrely I also feel that I owe it to my sponsors and more importantly to those I know, who live with, have survived or sadly have died from this disgusting disease, to actually make an effort in raising money for this campaign.

If you have had the chance to check out Rosemary’s or my sponsorship page, you will see that it is possible to name a person who you will be racing for and I am wondering why at this time I cannot bring myself to put my Dad’s name on the photo. It most certainly has nothing to do with indifference or lack of empathy or love for him but more like disbelief that he has been diagnosed with prostrate cancer. If I don’t name him on the site then I don’t have to think about it and don’t have to accept it. He has been told by his consultant, that chaps can live for years with prostrate cancer, but that's not much comfort. Any slight difference in his urinary habits has his mind racing and as he prepares for another trip to hospital to check on the little tumours progress, I can feel his anxiety as he fights to be brave and matter of fact about it; he doesn’t want to make a fuss as there are people much worse off than him.

Will I now, after writing this feel more inclined to add his name to my site? The jury is still out on that!

OK. Let’s lighten this up!

Power walking is sooooo last week!!!

I am now pushing on and have started running, or trying to run. I have engaged not 1 but 2 personal trainers to get me fit for the race; the first is my lovely partner (forthwith known as P), who in fact raced last year and raised lots of money in the process and the second trainer is my 2 year old son (forthwith to be known as Sun)[1]!!!

Yesterday saw our first running session. I ran (attempted to run) and P cycled by my side with Sun strapped into a bicycle seat on the back of the bike. P was in charge of clock-watching and both were in charge of dishing out encouragement.

Fully equipped with sports bra and crap trainers (see My Achilles Heel may well be my Achilles Heel), I strode ahead with a purposeful gait. Arms pumping by my side and striding out, I was more focussed than I have been throughout this entire training programme. Eventually however, I hit the “wall” and the pain was almost unbearable. I just couldn’t run through it.

Struggling for breath I muttered, barely audibly,
“How long was that?”
“Two minutes!!!” P replied

Obviously I couldn’t stop at that, so I walked for a minute and started running (attempting to run) again. Again I lengthened my stride and as instructed by P I engaged my core muscles and lifted my pelvic floor to give me more stability………apparently!!!!

Another 2 minutes, red in the face and with burning shins, I slowed to a fast walk only to hear Sun shouting “Again Mummy, again”

“OK Sun” I wheezed. And off I went again

And that is how we continued for a mile;
Me: run, walk, run, walk
P: giving me regular time checks
Sun: shouting encouragement in the form of “RUNNNNNNNNNNNN…….. MUMMY…….RUNNNNNNNNNNNN.”


When we arrived home, P took Sun to the in-laws, allegedly to give me a well earned break, so I could relax and have a lovely time on self-pamperation. (Own made-up word but I think it works!!)
The truth however was revealed today when I over-heard P telling Rosemary that her reason for taking Sun to the in-laws was that she could no longer bear to look at my bright red, sweating face!!

Love…..ain’t it grand!!!!

Til next time

Julie

[1] Sun: Used as a term of extreme affection by Annie Anderson towards her 3 gorgeous boys. Not sure if she has copyrighted the term, so referencing to be on safe side!!!

Hurdles overcome

Today see's the marking of several hurdles overcome- albeit fairly puny, but hurdles nonetheless. As I've mentioned, rain and me are not bedfellows and I really hate it in any shape or form, even the timid light rain in sunny climes. I also hate headaches (due to a childhood regularly peppered with migraines)

I did agree with Steve that if the weather was good this morning we would pop out on our bikes and do a loop of our adopted circuit. Dawn broke and it felt ok (ish) even though the weather forecast yesterday wasn't positive. Anyway we elected to go out whilst the weather was dry but the rain started to come down even before we'd clocked 0.37 of a mile.

Steve suggested that it was all part of my training and that it wouldn't hurt to do the ride in the rain in order to help me get used to it, because if it rains on the day I have no choice but to complete, which of course I agree with. I explained to Steve that he didn't get my concept of doing activities in the rain. I mentioned that I was only going to do this once in the rain and once only, so that was why it made sense to do that on the day because if it happened before it might make me lose motivation- needless to say that fell on deaf ears, and for those who know us well Steve uttered his usual comment to me which roughly translated means "shut up" (for those of you who know us well, this is a competition, email me your guess of what Steve said and I'll give the winner a prize!! competition ends Friday 18th May at noon).

Now the background information to this whole saga includes a couple of other details:

• I had only taken my blood presure reducing tablet 5 minutes before we set off
• Last night I enjoyed a few glassses of wine and a lovely meal out with friends
• Steve had decided to up the ante in terms of timing and speed ( but using traditional male levels of emotional intelligence had neglected to tell me)

As the rain came down, my hair got increasingly wet and stuck to my face, my blood presure raised and pumped around my head mostly, I began to feel wretched and sick (and not a little sorry for myself) I tried to coach myself into feeling ok and putting my slight discomfort into perspective, but tragically failed cycling home like a grumpy old goat. Arriving home I balanced my bike against the house and then tottered into the lounge and laid on the sofa listening to my pulse racing around my ears and feeling my skull crushing my brain. (what drama queen tendencies??)

However, and here is the science bit, after laying still for short while my blood pressure settled and I gradually felt fine, probably within 10 minutes. Now this is the first time that I have managed to recover that quickly from that sudden onslaught of a pounding headache, so I am seeing it as a triumph.

As for the wet hair and the subsequent hairstyle that shocked me when I looked in the mirror well that was a different matter entirely. I asked Steve why he hadn't told me that my hair was looking like Betty Boo and his answer was " well I didn't know how to form the right words in the right order to tell you"- how surprisingly emotionally intelligent! Another triumph indeed.

Thanks this weekend to some good friends Lyn and Karen. A card arrived in the post from them yesterday which made me laugh out loud. It featured a woman with contorted boobs who had obviously been out running without a sports bra- thanks for the warning and the laugh girls, much appreciated :-)

Have a good week everyone, wherever you are in your current challenges.

Rosemary

Fair weather buddies?

Those of you who know me, know that I don't do rain, so the recent change in the weather has seriously tested my commitment to the training schedule. However, I've been out there on my bike again to get the old ticker pumping and the calf muscles working hard. I've noticed that it's getting slightly easier to cover the distance so my fitness is improving and my attitude remains positive. The race is only 5 weeks on Sunday- the count down is on.

My current obsession is checking out the donations on my website:
http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/uberfast

and in order to be fair- Julie's:

http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/julielenderswain

This has been a new and interesting experience for me. At first I set my target at £150 which I thought would be a reasonable amount to hope for. However, as the emails went out the donations started to come in and very quickly my target was met. I incrementally increased it, trying to find a balance between still having something to aim for and being realistic about my expectations of those in my email address book.

It's weird how you have an internal set of expectations regarding who will sponsor you. If we're all honest we have a set of family, friends and acquaintances who we expect to come up trumps regardless- and the majority of them have- thank you, you know who you are. (hint: visit the site to see their messages). The question is- what about those who you have expectations of but they don't deliver? I know that we are seemingly constantly asked to dig deep and give and that can become annoying and some people need to wait until payday, but does a lack of sponsorship equate to a lack of support, friendship or interest?

Talking of fair weather buddies- spoke to Julie on the phone this evening regarding our next training session and we've set it for tommorrow when hopefully the sun will shine. We chatted for a while about our day's and a general catch up when she asked me why I sounded so happy. Perhaps it was because I'd spent the day with people who were doing things that were outside of their comfort zone and they did brilliantly. I didn't expect them to sponsor me, and they came up trumps!! Thanks ladies of WCC- you know who you are. (Jill, Debbie, Sharon, Carol, Tricia and Karen)

R

Reality cheque (payable to "Race for Life")

As you know, this blog is intended to record our experiences as we prepare for the Race for Life on the 17th June. My initial thoughts were that I'd be recording stuff about my aching feet, lungs fit to burst and so on. How I deeply wish that was the extent of it.

I know that everyone has moments in their life which are truly life changing and I'd give anything for the life changing moment that my friends Dave and Maria had last week to be different. You've probably guessed that the nightmare diagnosis of the big C has been made and Dave is about to undergo surgery to hopefully rid his body of the disease. The irony is that we spent some time with them just two weeks ago and no one knew anything about it, and we were chatting about the Race for Life and my attempts to complete it. So when I received a message yesterday telling me to jog a few more miles just for Dave this whole thing seemed crystal clear and way too close for comfort. Dave is now my inspiration to stop moaning about trivial matters and get on with this to help in some small way. This is for you Dave and Maria, with love.

Relatively good weekend training wise- bike ride Saturday, walk in Savernake Woods Sunday morning, walk home from the pub Sunday lunchtime, bike ride to Julie's Sunday afternoon, then WALKED home pushing my bike from Julie's Sunday evening due to a puncture (prime suspect for puncturing tyre- Julie)


Healthy positive love

RAA
XX

My Achilles heel may well be my achilles heel!!

Now, about 7 months ago, I had the pleasure of being civilly registered to my partner of 5 years, and as one does on this sort of (hopefully once in a lifetime) occasion, I celebrated well into the early hours and made sure that there was not one drop of wine left, in the many bottles that graced the tables during the reception. If I tell you that it took me 3 attempts to get out of the lovely rolled top bath we had in our hotel suite, once the partying had finished, you will get some idea of how much wine had been left in those bottles for me to guzzle. (For your info, I eventually got out of the bath with the assistance of my lovely and very recently betrothed, but not before I had flooded the bathroom and received 2 lovely bruises on the inside of my upper arms!!!)

The following morning, I couldn’t feel 3 of my toes on my right foot and to this day have no recollection of how I sustained such an injury. Over the next few days the feeling returned and then I realized how painful the top of my foot was. Incredibly (or stupidly some would say) I hobbled about on my poor foot for about 8 weeks, before, strangely, the pain started to move up my foot and to the back of my heel- which now clicks menacingly, when I walk down stairs!!!

Now you may think I am digressing from the important issue of our training progress, but a clicking Achilles is not the sort of thing a girl needs when she is in training for the marathon. (Ok, 5 k, but I tell you it feels like the marathon and will possibly take me as long to run it)

So, concerned for my well being and my sponsors hard earned cash, I took myself off to the physiotherapist at my local gym.

The long and short of it is this:

I am flat footed and excessively pronate!!!!! She is surprised my knees and hips don’t ache!!!!!

I need pronation insoles to realign my posture- cheaper on-line from Dr Foot!!!!!!

I had actually sustained a small stress fracture of my second metatarsal all those months ago, probably due to excessive dancing!!! (There is evidence to suggest that I was pogo-ing at one point!!!!) As a result I have shortened my Achilles tendon, which I now have to re-stretch!!

My new all singing and dancing pale blue running shoes with go-faster silver flashes (RRP £150. Outlet price £40) are crap!!!! They are nice looking trainers but really should only be worn with jeans!!!!

Would as a result of 4. like to name and shame the very successful sports company who have marketed my training shoes as runners but unsure of libel law, so will play it safe and will only name and shame to Rosemary, who was with me when I bought them and therefore it doesn’t really count.


The good news is that she can think of no good reason for me NOT to continue with my training. So I can’t even get out of it by feigning a dodgy Achilles tendon.

Well friends that’s it for today. I will of course be in touch soon to update you on my running progress……Achilles permitting!!

Yours gingerly,
Julie

fraudulent blog entry and Lincoln here I come

Have just realised that Julie is making fraudulent entries into this shared blog. In an effort to 'increase her web presence' she is suggesting that she is 41 and a half. She is not, nearer to 41 and 10/12 is a truer picture. This running is making her delusional..........................................

I have just returned from a couple of days in lovely Lincoln. It really is a very nice city, not for runners though, or even those who think they are running but are delusional too. No one told me before I went that many of the streets in Lincoln are like those in San Francisco ie bloody steep. Walking up and down them was at least equivalent to one of our power walks around Coate Water, it took real effort not to tumble down them and real effort to go up them again. Needless to say my calf muscles and lungs recognised that this was indeed an opportunity to let me know their response to this little jaunt.

On the first evening as we were struggling up the hill and demonstrating our devout interest in ANY shop window that appeared on Steep Street (its all in the name) a bloke came running past us down the hill, he was laughing and said that he'd started running at the top and now couldn't stop. I asked him if he wanted us to catch him, but couldn't hear his response as he increased his velocity and continued on his fast decent to the city centre............................................

To add to the whole 'work out' opportunity, our hotel (The White Hart) is currently "working with the local council to improve the facilities for those with disabilities" in reality this means that there are:

• Lots of stairs
• No lifts
• Many nooks and crannies- typical of "quaint" hotels

and thanks to Steve who requested a "quiet room" 6 flights of stairs to climb to get to our room on the third floor.

Rosemary d.o.b 28/01/62

Training Schedule, Day 4 - 21st April 2007

Having not been put off by our first session, Rosemary and I agreed to meet again 3 days later. I did instruct her to leave Steve at home however and we would follow our own plan. I am seriously worried that if we aren’t kind to ourselves we may not run the race. I am pleased to report that Rosemary has agreed and we meet in Coate Water car park for our second day of training together.
We start off gently, discussing our last session and reviewing the way forward. It seems we have both been quite unwell. I would like to report that it is due to putting our bodies under such physical exertion but I feel, that would be over-playing our part somewhat. I think it is more realistic that we have a cold.
After a slow start, I inform Rosemary that there is a sex pervert preying on women joggers in Swindon and particularly in the park areas, Lydiard, Coate etc. She seemed rather delighted at the thought and I definitely saw a glint in her eye as she suddenly put a spring into her step.... now we are power walking!!!!
Had a better sports bra on today, doesn’t so much support as flattens my breasts and holds them in place. Not sure it will help my running but Mr Sex Pervert will have trouble grabbing hold of these squashed babies.
We have broken our personal best for lapping Coate Water and have come in 3 minutes under our previous time. Obviously a fantastic sign that we are getting fitter!!!!

Yours optimistically,
Julie

Training Schedule, Day 3: Training begins in earnest.

Reflections on the 18th April 07:

The training schedule has taken a rather nasty turn- we are in fact expected to do real running. After nonchalantly joking about this escapade to my husband Steve, he elected himself as our “Trainer”- just when we felt we might not need one, after all we had the shoes………………… However, picture the scene- we find ourselves at a local beauty spot in Swindon (yes, there is such a thing) in our new trainers, clothes suitable to be seen jogging in and much enthusiasm for the task ahead. Slight concern that there already appeared to be serious joggers around who had the customary IPod plugged into their ears (seriously dangerous because you can’t hear anyone coming up behind you- admittedly not likely to be us) but not to be put off we swaggered in a confident manner to our selected starting point. The plan? To walk, jog, walk, jog and so on until we feel able to jog jog jog. Struggling to find the right camber to power walk we stride on out feeling that all is well in the world and this may just be a piece of the proverbial. 100 yards (sorry metres) later, we’ve changed our minds as Steve gently bounces off into a run and indicates that we should follow at the same pace. Julie seems to take this rudeness quite well, and reminds me to focus on my core stability. I am trying to focus on my flawed stupidity. It’s all rather strenuous. What happened to my visions of copying those lithe young things you see bouncing along the roadside running? I believe some of them may also have the ability to talk as they run as well. This aspiration feels laughably distant. My shins and calves send me a warning signal that they are not impressed. Nevertheless we (for “we” read “I”) continue to follow Steve (and Julie) around the outside of the lake, breathing for England and making a pact with my legs that once this experience is over, I’ll log it right up there with a recent root canal and waxing. Julie (bless her) walks with me when we should be jogging, but I know that to go into a full on jog now will crush my resolve to do this in the longer term and so I ignore the “Trainer” (occupational hazard darling-sorry!) and make a strategic decision to walk, walk jog, walk. I know it’s a change of plan, but I am sure that even Sir Alan Sugar and Des Browne would approve of this use of resources and decision making. As we walk I share a nugget of information with Julie (at an amazing point when I can walk, breathe and talk in short sharp sentences, Julie is able to walk, breathe and look interested and drink from her water bottle- she’s so skilled). A good friend of mine runs most mornings with another friend. On their way back to their cars they power walk to the rhythm of saying “Kylie Bottoms, Kylie Bottoms” apparently its good to have a few phrases to say to give you a striding rhythm to stick to and an aspirational vision for your bottom. Somehow we make it to the end- or at least my version of it. Then a funny thing happened- as we neared the end of the route Julie said “so, do you just want to go round once today?” ONCE?!! I didn’t realise that my chin still had strength, but it did and managed to hit the floor like a cartoon character. My body language indicated that Julie was completely right. What a clever friend. Not to mention seriously misinformed. On arrival in the car park we patted ourselves on the back and agreed to continue the schedule on Thursday. Smiling like real troopers we settled into car seats that suddenly felt like cotton wool. My analysis on the events of the previous 45 minutes? “Well, I won’t feel this bad again” Steve-“Wait till you try to get up tomorrow morning” Always nice to have positive feedback from your Trainer isn’t it. Well done Ju. Note to self: need a rhythm statement for bottom.

Rosemary- slightly older than Julie

Greetings, one and all.

Our first days’ training sees Rosemary bringing her significant other with her in his self-appointed role as personal trainer. Our own plans to build up slowly with power walking the first few sessions did not appeal to Steve who being ex-army, would rather see us running up Uffington White Horse Hill with large rucksacks strapped to our backs.
As if blasted from a canon, Steve took off at a rate of knots calling after us to follow suit, which in our defence we duly did.
I lugged my large frame after Steve for about 10 metres when I realised that I really should have scheduled in another days shopping to buy a suitable training bra for the occasion. My under-wired white Sloggy gave little support and had my breasts just bounced up and down it wouldn’t have been too bad, but they seemed to take on a life of their own and were, alternately, whipping round in concentric circles and then clanging together like 2 huge cymbals. And if that wasn’t bad enough, after approximately 100 metres it became clear that my inner thighs were dangerously close to bursting into flames. I was carrying a small bottle of water with me but I was rather loathe to use it on extinguishing my legs!!!!
We did eventually get round walking and jogging but it was only half the distance we will be expected to run on the day. Early days yet though.

by Julie- considerably younger than Rosemary

and we're off...........................

Race for Life: A personal journey

Ah, blogs. Why would you? What are they for? Who cares? So many questions so little time.

I have never really been one for blogs. I couldn’t see the point of reading about personal journeys through the likes of sex changes, hamster keeping and log rolling (!!!) or reading the rants and views of others on current affairs. I have friends after all. I really don’t need to build unreciprocated relationships with unidentified dudes who float somewhere out there on the ether.

Imagine then, if you can be bothered, (and if I was reading this, I quite frankly couldn’t be) my amazement and quiet despair to learn that some of my friends are in fact closet bloggers. So now, as if phone calls, text messaging, emailing, postcards, anniversary cards (for anniversary cards also read birthday cards), congratulations on your divorce cards, faxing, voiping was not enough, I now feel obliged to keep in contact via periodical blogs.

Where do I start? Well probably with my friend Rosemary, because actually this is her idea.
We are founder members of a lovely all women food group aptly named the “Jam Tarts” (also Rosemary’s idea). We meet monthly in each others houses, all bringing a plate of food to correspond with that months theme, (Aprils was tapas) and obviously alcohol is compulsory.

This month, after much munching on tortilla and guzzling Rioja we decided that our very good friend Jane was far too gorgeously slim to be a true friend. Most of us are in, if not fast approaching our middle youth and it is probably true to say carry more ballast than we care for.
Jane proving her friendship let us in to her fitness secret……..RUNNING!!!
How she had the nerve to say that in front of the rest of us is quite beyond me, but, and probably due to the Rioja, we unanimously decided to follow Jane’s lead and train for the Cancer Research Race for Life!
That’s the last time I drink Spanish wine!

So there you have it. This blog is going to be an on-line diary about the trials and tribulations of an overweight team of middle aged women, who have never broken into a sweat, menopause aside.

We have just less than 9 weeks until we will attempt to run en masse 5km which is on 17th June at Lydiard Park in Swindon. If at this point you would care to sponsors me/us you can do so on-line blah, blah, blah at http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/julielenderswain
Or
http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/uberfast



In these shoes? ...I don’t think so!!

Training Schedule so far looks something like this:

Day 1: Phone Rosemary re: training together for moral support.

Day 2: Buy running shoes


I am pleased to report that we are on target.

I had a very successful day shopping with Rosemary. We both purchased our running shoes, after the embarrassment of having to ask a spotty teenager with NO customer service skills, what a running shoe actually looked like. We then celebrated with a trip to Starbucks, and because we are in training only had a black coffee and skinny lemon muffin. Well Rosemary did, I had a cappuccino and slice of fruit cake, knowing that when we start the actual running part of our schedule, I will in fact burn it off.

I have been slightly concerned about the possibility of blisters, so have advised that we break our new shoes in. I am pleased to report that mine are in fact extremely comfortable. I have worn them quite a bit today and found them equally comfortable when laying on the sofa and when running to the garden to drink my G & T before the ice melted.

I really think we are off to a flying start.

by Julie aged 41 and a half