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!!!