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