Sans Plan

It’s funny how things develop. I’m writing this blog mainly for myself, so expect a bit of navel gazing.

Trying to order my thoughts to write posts has led inevitably to thinking about how far back I should go, or whether any of this is really relevant….

After much pondering I now recall some parts of why I decided to put a bit more effort into getting fit – the point is that it wasn’t initially for any of the reasons I now want to maintain and develop fitness, and a recognition that these motivations change over time.

I was planning a skiing trip with family who were a great deal fitter and more active than me. There’s a strong drive in me to not stand out for being the worst – being the best is wonderful, but takes alot of effort and of course the only way is down 😆 (and as far as alpine skiing goes – that’s often the only way, and terrifyingly so)

It does require stamina to stay out all day everyday and I intended to do just that!

I absolutely love skiing – it creates the same sense of freedom and well being in me that coastal and offshore sailing does – there’s something about being disconnected from everyday stressors, being in a very different and beautiful natural environment. I find it uplifting. The inherent risks these activities involve and the need for skill and concentration create a sense of self reliance and a recognition of the impact of our actions on survival.

I started on the treadmill to get my aerobic fitness and strength up, determined not to let low endurance hold my skiing back.

The new found fitness began to pay off earlier than anticipated. At the airport I got hauled for a search and we had to run for the closing gate.

The last gate in a huge long line of gates.

I was simultaneously grateful for being able to (mostly) keep up a brisk trot with a rucksack on, and regretful that I was wearing hiking boots and a ski jacket for the duration of the run. Pity my fellow passengers when I made it to the plane 😉.

So anyway – a fabulous week of skiing later, I lapsed in my levels of activity a bit.

⏩several months to a shoulder injury. It cut right down on my usual strength-based (with a cardio warm up and warm down) return-to-fitness gym programme which I’ve always found highly effective when deployed at key moments (like post baby); so I hopped back on the treadmill instead.

While having a general grumble to the fittest family member about the all pervading feeling of futility generated by running on a moving band of rubber in still air, listening to music while watching TV (an early circle of hell), and the possible comparisons with small furry animals (actually that might qualify me as an RUS – rodent of unusual size?), he says brightly, ‘Parkrun then, next Saturday, see you there at oh-eight-forty’.

Backed myself into a corner, hadn’t I. Damn. Parkrun it was. The beginning of getting out there. Outside. Doing It Properly.

Next thing I know, while I’m still crushed and sore from running further than I ever had, in a race (with sodding hills) he’s announced that I need a goal. That’s when I signed up for the Eden Half.

It looks alot like I’m not taking responsibility there doesn’t it? I am really. I am allowing myself to be moved into situations I wouldn’t have actively sought but actually would love to go.

I have noticed a pattern with these things – each one seems like a bloody stupid idea until I actually achieve it, which, since I haven’t done it yet for the Half, is currently the case. Part of training is to develop the belief that you can go the distance (or provide some evidence to counter the disbelief at least).

I think that’s partly the point – we don’t really know if we can achieve something until it’s done.

In reckless moments I think I might be able to, and end up signing up. It’s a good thing, really!

On looking back, events that have developed as twists and turns, based on impromptu decisions and grabbed opportunities, tradeoffs and negotiations, start, in hindsight, to look like it makes sense.

Of course that wasn’t the case, at all. I’m interested to hear how others got started doing something new – was it as haphazard as mine?

Hoof hell – looking after heels

I completed my first and so far only Parkrun this year. Down along the river was soft and slippery to run on, but nothing compared to the splashy sloping field on the hill to the finish. I went home and started looking for trail shoes.

Three online returns later, and utterly befuddled by the variations in size coupled with inconsistent translation to and from UK, EU and US sizes, I had a pair of shoes that I could get into, indeed they were pretty wide, and which appeared to have lots of tread. They also felt low around the heel, but apparently that helps avoid chafing up the tendon when running downhill.

Now I had, I thought, done my homework reasonably well, and looked up various articles and a review post to find which were good shoes. What I hadn’t done was try any in a shop, being afraid of looking a fool trying to buy specialist shoes before even starting the sport (although it doesn’t seem so illogical now somehow). What is a running shop anyway? No sports shops I know have treadmills.

Rookie mistake #1

I can’t say I wasn’t warned, every article on the subject I’ve read before or since says GO AND GET PROPERLY FITTED.

There’s clearly a difference between reading advice and actually putting it into practice 😤

So in the meantime, while buying and returning various sizes of the trail shoe of choice, I carried on pounding around in some general gym trainers, racking up the kilometres (they look like more than miles😂), and hoping it was doing me good.

Another week of hoofing around, now in the new trailies. I did a 30 mile two day hike and missed my weekend runs, so I used my rest days to catch up on missed mileage.

Rookie mistake #2

Something started to feel very wrong.

I’m following a 20 week Half marathon training plan and 3-4 weeks in, having tried to cram that missed mileage into rest days, I started getting a contraction feeling in the achilles tendon area from the calf to the heel during my run, a sensation of swelling followed by a prickling and then a stronger pain which frightened me a bit if I’m honest – I took notice of that and walked.

I got some advice as well as scouring t’internet, and rested. No running for two weeks, lots of physio and strength work on calves and tendon at the end of the two weeks, but 1st time out, it happened again. I was starting to get pretty worried, thinking I wouldn’t be able to keep running, until I came across an article which clicked right in. I’ve since found other similar explanations which reflect my experience.

Neutral shoes can be a factor apparently, as can a transfer to toe striking. Mmm. Thinks back to description of trail shoes.

Now, as it happens (you may be ahead of me here…), I’d just bought really quite neutral (4mm) trail shoes, and had been conscious of my tendency to heel strike for a while, so the explanation rang some bells. People who are slow – ahem – do tend to heel strike more, and it isn’t in itself a bad thing. This article delves into more of the dynamic mechanics of running and I found it really useful.

I added gel heel inserts to the trail shoes and set out again, determined not to have to ditch the new hooves.

It seems to be working so far; I’m getting heel lift in them, which is annoying, but no blistering as yet, and if I feel my calves blowing up I now try to resist the urge to stretch them.

All lessons learned; but it was back to the beginning on the half marathon plan. I’d had a few weeks spare so I can still do the 20 weeks run in, but this time I’ll remember that missed runs are gone, and that getting shoes fitted is not just for the fast.