My Life's a Marathon

It's My Birthday - Part 2

2012-03-14T15:31:00.000-07:00

When I left you all the other day it was 9:30 on my birthday morning and I'd had a really lovely few hours. I had a busy day of work ahead - too many orders and not enough time - but after my wonderful morning I was pumped and ready to go. But I have a couple of admissions to make -

#1 I didn't really achieve much.

#2 I spent a bit of the afternoon crying.

The not achieving much part is a no-brainer. If you manage to get any work done at all on your birthday, you're a legend or you need more people in your life. I spent hours on Facebook reading birthday messages and replying to them. I had a couple of visitors and a few phone calls. I think I managed to draft and cut only two leotards and a few pair of tights.

The crying part was NOT because I was unhappy, disappointed or hurt. I'm not a big crier. In fact I hate crying - especially in public. But I think my virus has made me a little soft and thee's been some pretty tragic things happen lately so I've actually spent more time crying this year than I have in the last five.

The thing that triggered all the tears was a visit from my sister and my Mum. Julie had arrived first bearing gifts. She gave me the first present ever that hinted of my increasing age - a wheat heat. It's a special heat pack filled with wheat and linseeds that you heat in the microwave. This was for my dodgy back. And the sad thing is that I was terribly excited to get it. I'm wondering If I'll be able to contain my joy when I get my first walking stick.

And then Mum gave me the gift from her and Dad. It was in a ring box and my immediate thought was that it was funny that I was going to get two rings on my birthday when I rarely wear them. I opened the box and found this.

It's a really pretty ring and it fit me perfectly. But I still didn't get it. And then Mum explained that it was my Grandmother's engagement ring and that's when I burst into tears.

I had a really close relationship with my Grandma. She's the one who taught me to sew - it's because of her teaching me to make a gingham apron that I now spend my days making leotards. I spent many happy hours out on her farm, picking grapes and tomatoes, swinging from the willow tree, hitting a tennis ball against the door of the garage, playing dress-ups ... My memories from then are so vivid and like a warm hug. You could always count on Grandma making you feel special. She died a few years back now and when she died I bought a gold locket that I wear constantly to remind me of her and Grandpa.

Mum knew that I'd been feeling pretty low lately - the illness, family issues and a few other things had made me struggle with a few things like self-worth. She valued that ring - it was her Mum's ring and it was the one few things that she'd really wanted as a remembrance when Grandma had died. But she also knew how much it would mean to me so she gave it to me. And I'm sitting here typing this with tears in my eyes again.

I couldn't explain about the ring to anyone without crying again - but they weren't sad tears. I've been so moved by Mum's sacrifice and reminded again about having all that love when I was growing up. I can't ever remember having a more special, meaningful day.

But it wasn't over yet. Luke arrived home with a big bunch of lilies - I've left them in my workroom so every day that I open the door I'm surrounded by their amazing fragrance. Josh gave me a culinary tour of Korea - some new things to taste. And Sam's bought me a book voucher because he knows how much I love to read and that choosing the book is almost as much fun as reading it.

And then there's the chocolate ...

A bouquet of chocolate from a running friend and too many peanut M&M's to eat in one sitting.

And then this masterpiece from my big sister, Julie. It was a tricky one to cut - but really delicious.

I've come away from my birthday feeling loved and valued and really blessed with having so many lovely people in my life. It's really what birthday's are all about, isn't it?

It's My Birthday!

2012-03-12T17:31:00.001-07:00

Happy birthday to me!

49 today. Only twelve more months till I can move up into a new age group!

Today is turning out to be a lovely, glorious day. A day when you are forced to admit that there are a lot of wonderful people in the world that you're privileged to have in your life. I have been flooded with birthday wishes and hugs. I have spent the morning breakfasting with the running girls and Tom. I have been totally spoilt by my husband. It's everything you could want from a birthday.

Except maybe for the special birthday zit.

But even a pimple can be a nice reminder that even though you're chronological age is pretty significant, you're biological age is not much more than a teenager. (I know I'm fooling myself but it's fun to be truly delusional)

So how have I spent this auspicious day so far? (It's only 9:30 but I've managed to cram a lot in a morning.) Up at 4:30 am to find a special birthday present from Nelson - a clean house. No little doggy accidents!! He really cares.

Iven was up early too and gave me a lovely card and a very generous present. A few weeks ago he asked what I'd like and I threw off a very sarcastic "expensive jewellery" reply. But he took me at my word an now I'm sporting this ...

... with a matching pair of earrings and pendant.

By 5:15 it was time to go to training. March is a busy birthday month so there were a few cakes to deliver. And even better- all the recipients were there.

Then they took off one way and I took off the other. Then we joined up again around 3.5k. That's the best part of the session for me because I get to catch up with a lot more people and get to still feel like I'm part of the group even if I can't do the session.

After the session I met up with some of the girls and Tom (the lone male representative) and had breakfast. Lots of laughter. Lots of talking. Lots of eating. Good times.

I came home to find my phone full of messages and my Facebook wall covered with birthday messages. I've got an enormous day of work ahead of me but I'm in a very happy place today and I don't think that anything could take that away.

And because I'm in a happy place I'm going to give all you young things out there a little gift - an insight into how it feels to be nearly 50.

#1 Be prepared for parts of your body to make strange, loud noises. My hips pop. My neck cracks. I sometimes come out with unexpected burps. And if I have dairy I can pass enough wind to make the dog leave the room. (For anyone planning on visiting rest assured - I've given up dairy)

#2 Your skin will sag more than when you were 16. Some lights are particularly cruel and will convince you that you're covered with cellulite. My advice here is to leave the lights off if you want to make a good impression - unless you have a dog that has random unexpected accidents around the house and in that case only leave the lights off if you're an adventurous soul who likes to gamble and clean up ground-in messes.

#3 You will forget a lot of stuff. People's names. Important events. Where you put your keys, or the sugar, or your car. But you will retain interesting snippets of information so when you forget a name you can make it into a guessing game by providing clues. Who am I? I was a famous Australian Prime Minister who decided to go for a swim and never come home. Or - I won a bronze medal for sprinting at the Olympics in 1976, then won a gold at the Commonwealth games for the 400m in 1980, survived breast cancer and work as a gardener in Melbourne.

#4 You will still have a lot of the hang-ups that you had when you were a teenager but you've learnt to live with them and work around them. You will still feel a lot like you did back then - except for the strange noises emanating from your body, the random pains that you've discovered, and the fact that staying up after 9:30 pm is almost impossible.

#5 You will enjoy using the age thing as an excuse if you don't want to do something. But on the flip-side you will impress younger people that you can still move and think despite being so old. Yeah, I know 49 isn't that old but when I was young I didn't think any further past the year 2000 when I'd turn 37 and I thought that was pretty old back then.

Now off to work. The birthday carousel has to stop for the next 8 or 9 hours because the real world has to intervene. And then we can crank it up again tonight - till 9:30. Do I know how to live or what?!!!

Fears and Phobias

2012-03-10T14:57:00.000-08:00

My niece is getting married in four weeks. Planning is well under way. The dress and shoes have been chosen. The venue has been booked and the caterers organised. Her littlest flower girl (her 10 month old daughter) has even learnt how to walk for the big occasion. It's the first wedding of this generation of our family and I should be excited. But I'm not. I have a huge mountain to climb before I can let excitement set in. And this mountain is freaking me out. I have to find something to wear.

Those who've been reading my blog for a while know how I feel about shopping for clothes. I hate it. I abhor it. I have a fear that borders on phobia. I'm irrational and unreasonable and I'd rather run a marathon than try on a dress in a tiny fitting room with cruel and unusual lighting and mirrors that are only a meter away from your every figure flaw. I've been known to go out shopping for a dress and come home with two pair of running shorts.

But I have to get something. My wardrobe is woefully inadequate - consisting of running gear, jeans, t shirts and singlets and a couple of ten year old skirts. My newest non-running purchase is a denim skirt which I've worn almost constantly since I bought it. It's cool and comfortable and totally NOT stylish. Nicky's wedding is having a cocktail reception so I kinda have to make a little effort.

So Thursday I decided that I needed to make a start. I had about 90 minutes before I had to be home to see clients. I had my Mum and sister as moral support. There was never a better time. First up we hit Harts. It's a shop that I've never been into before. It's filled with formal wear that all looks a bit the same. We were immediately set upon by a matronly sales assistant with perfectly coiffed hair to go with her perfectly coiffed attitude. I'm sure the well-worn denim skirt told her that I wasn't her normal customer but a sale is a sale and she tried to help. I found a dress that I thought would be a good shape on me. It was covered with beads and sequins and feathers and I hated it but I wanted to see if the shape was good. So I tried it on. The shape was good and I went to show my Mum and sister by opening the curtain up a crack when it was yanked open by the formerly mentioned assistant and suddenly I had an audience. Man, I love being way out of my comfort zone with and being exposed to the world.

We headed off to Myers and foraged around unsuccessfully then off to yet another shop where a poor young sales assistant tried to help. She obviously didn't understand that if I wanted to wear a t shirt to a cocktail party I'd choose one of my own. And she had no idea that when I said I didn't look good in neutral colours that cream was included in that palette. Luckily time ran out before I could hit any other shops. Ninety minutes down and I am still no closer. I decided that it might be simpler to just make something - and then I get three new team orders for work and they're all due in April. I won't be making anything!

So today I'm off to hit the shops again. Oh, and I've been up since three because my back's gone into spasm again so it should be as much fun as Thursday's expedition. Oh why can't there be a dress fairy that just comes to your house in the dark of night and leave THE perfect dress in your wardrobe?!!

BUT on the up side. I was totally demoralised after my run/walk yesterday. I know it's not sounding like the upside yet - just bear with me for a moment. I ran 6 of the 10k and managed a full kilometre. But I didn't keep an eye on my heart rate and when I got home I saw that I'd let it get higher than I should. I was running a bit by feel and it honestly didn't feel that bad but by the evening I felt pretty awful. I walked this morning (no running because my back hurt way too much) - the same route that I've done every Sunday for the last 5 weeks. Last time I fully walked it was four weeks ago - today I walked it 8 minutes faster and my average heart rate was 8 beats slower. That's significant improvement and I'm really excited.

Disappointment

2012-03-07T14:03:00.000-08:00

Disappointment.

That's the only word that could describe Bubble's face today when I left on my walk/run without her. She saw me dress in my running gear and her little tail began to wag. Then she saw me pull out my running shoes and the tail wag became a mad flutter. There was some hysterical whining. She followed my every step - even into the toilet where the whining and tail-wagging continued. There was some confusion when I went to the front door without going to collect her lead. But she was still hopeful. And then she was devastated when I firmly said no and shut the door on her sad little face. I'm so mean.

Disappointment.

That's how I felt last night when I found my eldest son in the bathroom shaving his legs. No, he's not a cyclist, triathlete or swimmer. And yes, I know that you don't have to be a girl to shave your legs. But there's something a little feminine about doing so. He had good reason, though. Today they're going to be practising strapping techniques for his course and he was quite prepared to appear a little feminine at home as long as he didn't squeal like a girl in front of his other macho uni friends.

And more disappoinment.

When I walk/run I like to enjoy the scenery. And if that scenery just happens to be a young man on his bike with spray-on lycra which shows off every muscle contraction, well so be it. Today's scenery was not quite that pretty. Heavily overweight, with his stomach resting on the crossbar of his bike. Puffing and wheezing as he struggled to pass me (I was only walking). And then he passed and I was dazzled by the spectacle. Two milky white moons divided by a deep crevice and decorated with the ghost of recent pimples past. As much as I admired that he was getting out to exercise, I was horrified by his wardrobe malfunction. There are just some secrets that should forever remain hidden. And there are some moments when you wish that you had a camera because words truly can't give justice to what you've had to behold.

Poo and Ugly Birthday Cakes

2012-03-05T16:10:00.000-08:00

Crap!!! That's what it's all been about today. I started the day to find a pile of it in the hallway. Honestly, it looked as though the house had been broken into by a pack of horses. Nelson did his usual I'm-too-ashamed-to-look-at-you sneak out of the house. Four fifty am is too early to be cleaning up poo of any sort.

Then I came home from training to find that my toilet had blocked up. Woohoo!! If there's something I like even more than cleaning up dog poo at four fifty am, it's unblocking a toilet of all the morning waste products of a family of four males. Plunging the toilet brush as far down the s-bend as it will go and releasing what ever's causing the blockage could possibly be the highlight of my week. Thank goodness I have a strong stomach.

I was watching a comedy festival on TV last night and one of the comedians suggested that it was hard to convey intent with electronic media. He suggested that there should be a few more fonts developed with precisely this problem in mind. I totally agree. But I'd probably be using Sarcastica all the time.

On the training front I'd like to announce that I did a whopping 27k last week. With maybe 10 of those k being slightly more than a walk (calling it running is like saying that Paris Hilton is a talented celebrity). I'm having to be so careful with how much I push it. Saturday's run was a bit too much. When I looked at the info from my watch I saw that I'd let my heart rate get way too high on occasions. Unfortunately I can't judge by feel that it's as high as it is so I have to keep my eye on my watch. But I know I've pushed it too much if I feel nauseated a few hours after or the next day and my legs ache after each session, like I'm coming down with a fever. I felt pretty ordinary on Sunday so I took today's session really carefully and managed to keep my heart rate at a much lower level. It's all such a different mindset to what I'm used to - take it easy and don't push!! I'm learning very slowly.

March has finally arrived and with it is the start of a long month of birthdays. (Mine's next Tuesday, thanks for asking). I made my first birthday cake of the month yesterday and, being that it was for Coach Chris, it warranted an extra amount of thought and effort.

It's possibly the ugliest cake I've ever decorated. But there's a special meaning behind everything on it. Coach Chris is an avid fan of his chosen team in the NRL comp - the Parramatta Eels. He deludes himself into believing that THIS year is going to be THEIR year. In fact I think the last time that they won the Grand Final was in the '80s. He also likes to rev up the squad's Bronco's (the local team) supporters when the Broncos play the Eels - as they did last Friday. Broncos won. Eels lost. Coach Chris got lots of 'suck it' texts and now has this lovely cake to commemorate the occasion with. I hope he enjoys eating all those Eels with his wooden spoon. Happy Birthday Chris!!

Mixed Emotions.

2012-03-03T19:09:00.001-08:00

Mixed emotions is the only possible way to describe this week - especially the last couple of days.

Yesterday I woke up so excited. I was going to get to run with the group. For at least 300m or so. It amazes me at how exciting such a pitiful distance can feel when you've been out of action for 7 weeks. I left home without Bubbles for the first time in a month and she was confused and disappointed - but I was going to run and she only has 6 inch legs so it just wasn't going to work if I took her.

We took off at 5:30 and I did a great job for 550m before I realised that I'd gone a little further than intended and needed to walk. I blame Mike for that. He was just up to the exciting bit in the conversation where the surgeon was going to cut into his butt cheek and potentially deprive him the opportunity of being a g-string model. It's funny, though, how quickly after you stop running where even 500m becomes a long way. Surely my previous almost 30 years of pounding the pavement should count for something. But no! You take almost 2 months off and your legs pretend like they've forgotten how to run.

I decided at that point that I'd jog 500, walk 500. And yes, I mean jog rather than run. I was slower than a trickle but it was just so good to have that little bounce in my step. I ended up going 10k all told - so effectively I ran over 5k yesterday. AND I got to hear the end of Mike's story when we finished. (And no, he didn't show me his scar)

I came home elated. Sure, it wasn't anything to write home about performance-wise AND running even 1k in a stretch seems like a long way off but it was a giant leap in the right direction.

That was the highlight of the week. All the rest is pretty heavy stuff. I started out the week with the news that my physio/high school bestie had just had to have her beloved rottweiler put down. She loves her animals as much as I love mine and I knew how awful it was for her.

Then later in the week I heard of two separate tragedies affecting people that I have run with and laughed with. Lives over before their time. Both devastatingly sad. And then the news of a serious illness affecting a lady that I'd spent many hours with on the side of soccer pitches. And finally, today, another friend has made the decision to put her beautiful dalmatian down - 15 years old and in constant pain. It's a little close to home for me with Nelson showing obvious signs of decline.

Enough sad news already!!

Bubbles and I hit the road again today to help process all the heavy stuff. It was another run/walk with a lot more walking than yesterday's. It didn't really take any of the sadness away but it did help in the way that exercising always seems to help.

We walked past the exact same spot that I'd seen the torn-out article that had so intrigued me on Thursday. I have to admit that we went quite slowly and looked really carefully just in case it was still around. I spotted a rubbish bin and I have to admit that I was tempted to go scrounging. But Bubbles thought that it might look a bit undignified - a 40-something year old woman scavenging in the bin to find porn. I tend to think if we'd been scavenging in the bin for scraps of pie or sandwiches she may have changed her tune.

The sadness will dull in time. And life will go on - it's kind of relentless that way. This week I'll take more time to really appreciate all the wonderful people in my life. And I'm hoping that the bad news will give us a little breather to help us regain our equilibrium. I'm wishing for everyone a week filled only with good news. And smiles. And laughter.

I Just Read Them For The Articles

2012-02-29T17:48:00.001-08:00

Some days it's like the universe is bent on teaching you a lesson. Today I learnt a fascinating one.

Bubbles and I were out on our walk, which ended up being a run/walk because we were just feeling that good, when I saw the most puzzling piece of litter on the ground. It was a page from one of THOSE magazines. The sort of magazines that are often at the back of the newsagency where the sleazy men hang out. You know the type - the ones who move off quickly when you go into the wrong aisle looking for your running magazine and pretend that they've been looking at the car magazines all along while surreptitiously trying to sneak a peak down your cleavage.

Anyway, this page had the picture of a girl with the most enormous, naked, unfettered breasts that I've ever seen in my life. Now, I come from a house of big-breasted women. In fact I used to BE a big-breasted woman (hello double D) but breast-feeding and running has streamlined these puppies into a much more manageable size. My youngest sister, when she was pregnant was positively distraught when her E (for enormous) boobs became an F (for f@*#ing enormous). Well the breasts made my sister's look quite pitiful really.

But it wasn't the breasts that puzzled me so much - although I did wonder if they were real and if they were, why hadn't she had a reduction and if they weren't, why had she chosen to be so freakishly large. It was actually the headline that made me wonder. Emblazoned across her breasts were the words - My Breasts Saved My Life.

Those words got my neurons firing for the rest of the walk. How had her breasts saved her life? Had she fallen overboard on the high seas and her breasts had acted as a flotation device? Had they then become beacons to the rescue helicopter? Had she been forced to jump from the fourth floor of a building and her breasts had cushioned her fall? Had she been shot at or stabbed by a mugger and the bullet or knife been stopped short by her industrial-sized (and possibly filled with industrial-strength French) silicon implant?

I really wished I'd stopped and tucked it into the dog-poo pouch that's on Bubble's lead so I could have read it quietly in the locked toilet when I got home. (Isn't that where men have found it best to read such literature?) I will never know the answer to the question. BUT I have learned that maybe men DO read THOSE kinds of magazines for the articles.

Adrenalin- Pumpers

2012-02-27T15:56:00.001-08:00

I'd really like to set the record straight today. I am NOT a total bitch to my husband. I can actually treat him quite nicely when he's been a good boy. And he generally doesn't read my blog but I do make a point of reading out the ones that feature him heavily so he knows what the rest of the world knows about himself (from my perspective).

I was heavily influenced by my grandmother in regards to marital relationships. She had a philosophy that was quoted so often that it became embedded deep in my DNA - "Treat 'em mean and keep 'em keen". I can't tell you how often I heard that as I was growing up and it's become my mantra. I should make a cross-stitch of it, frame it and hang it over our bed. But Iven and I have been married for 26 years so it must be working on some level.

Today I was back at training after having last week off because of the rain. And today I got to include run breaks into my walk. And today those run breaks added up to almost 1k (in a 5k route). And today I haven't had any nasty after effects from my exertions. No headache. No nausea. So today I'm feeling really positive. But I'm not going to push it. My plan for this week is to walk (no running) again on Thursday. Walk/run on Saturday with the group (for 500m until I drop off the back). Then walk on Sunday. I'm on the comeback trail.

So today's excitement was that I've gotten to run - yesterday's excitement was even more adrenalin-producing. We had a little visitor in our house.

The picture is in Sam's bedroom and this what he woke up to. That's one way of getting your kids up and going in the morning. None of that hitting the snooze button for a few extra zzz's. I think it may have been the snake that Sam chased from the hen house a month ago and I think this snake has a very long memory. They say revenge is a dish best served cold - well this snake believes that it's a dish served by cold-blooded animals.

I had to go down into his room today and I have to say that my heart rate was a little higher than normal. I kept looking for movement out of the corner of my eye. I have no idea how he slept down there last night.

Off to have a little pre-work nap. I'm just following doctor's orders!!

The Good, The Bad and The New Bedroom Decor

2012-02-25T19:00:00.000-08:00

Let's start with the good news. I'm starting to feel a lot better. I'm getting through my work days without wanting to curl up in a little ball on the workroom floor, have a cry and then a half hour nap. AND I'm working longer days - not because I want to, but because it's that time of the year. I'm not having to lie down as soon as I get upstairs after work just to gather enough strength to get through the evening. And I'm not feeling nauseated for the first six hours of the day. So that's all a big plus.

I've been a very good or lazy girl this week - depending on what camp you're sitting in. The hard-core fitness nuts will be on the side of lazy. But the conservatives who like the idea of me following doctor's instructions will say I've been good. I've walked only twice this week, not my usual four times and done my yoga DVD twice. Honestly I wasn't intending to walk only twice but the weather hasn't been so kind. We've had a few days of rain and I'd decided (in consultation with Bubbles) that walking in the rain wasn't sensible when you've been sick.

So now it's time to get onto the bad news. I've done something to my back. Wednesday it had me up in the middle of the night but felt better in the morning. That night it was back (no pun intended) and I had more Nurofen to help me sleep. Thursday it was sore all day and Friday I succumbed to the lure of a shopping centre massage to try to get the kinks out. More Nurofen, stretching, heat packs hasn't helped much and tomorrow morning I'll be ringing my physio, Chris to see if she can squeeze me in. I kinda think it's because I've been so inactive - like rigor mortis has sensed that my body is failing me and is starting to move in before the corpse is cold.

But even all this annoying pain has had its up side. Iven's been so kind and considerate and helpful. He's had to really step up with the meal preparation. Seeing me in pain bothers him ( he's so nice - seeing him in pain makes me offer to give him a quick injection to put him out of my misery). He's bought me hot packs, made me cups of tea, given me a back massage that resulted in bruising and another that didn't.

But the best thing that's come of all this is that I've been able to redecorate our bedroom without having to argue with him to get my way (and I like to get my way when it comes to interior decorating). Friday morning I found a hole in our doona cover, thanks to Bubbles. It was a really old cover and we'd already looked for a replacement without success but I had to look a little more seriously this time. So Saturday found us at the shops. I'd already decided which one I'd wanted the day before when I'd had a quick reconnaissance mission but, in the interest of LETTING him think he had a say in the matter, I took him back to get his approval. He liked it BUT he quite liked the navy one more and carried it around the shop like a kid who'd found the stuffed toy of his dreams and couldn't live without it.

It didn't take much, though, to get him to let me have my way. A few grimaces of pain, a bit of self-massage of my neck and shoulders, a few sighing breaths and he was putty in my hands. I swear I wasn't putting it on! But I may remember this incident next time I really want my own way on an important issue. In fact - it may just be the best time ever to plan that overseas trip.

And I did finally get to the movies - Friday night. And I got a meal as well. The old man CAN step up when he really tries.

In The Wee Small Hours

2012-02-22T17:18:00.001-08:00

Sometimes I wonder what I get up to when I'm asleep. I know I toss and turn a bit, from the wrinkles on the sheets. And I suspect that there's some snoring occasionally - but who doesn't? I've seen what happens when Nelson sleeps - there's barking, whining and lots of running in a horizontal position. And I now suspect that I may be doing the same.

And the reason that I suspect that I'm a very active sleeper was because I managed to put my back into spasm while I was sound asleep. I must have been doing the limbo or the tango. One minute I thought I was sleeping peacefully and the next I wasn't able to breathe or move without wanting to cry.

Being a normal hypochondriac, the first thing that crossed my mind was some form of cancer - spinal, brain, metastatic breast cancer. Well, I figure if you're going to have a disease you might as well pick something fatal. Abdominal aortic aneurysm was another diagnosis I made in my sleep-addled, pain-wracked state. But in my heart of hearts I knew it was just an everyday, run-of-the-mill muscle spasm. So I got out of bed, heated up a heat pack and took two ibuprofen. Then I turned on the TV and lay on the couch and waited for the drugs and the heat to take effect.

Did you know that there's NOTHING on the TV at 1:30 in the morning?!! Every channel wanted to sell me something. At 1:30 in the morning I'm not going to be awake because my kids cannot multiply three digit numbers in their heads. I've bought them all calculators so they're never going to have to.

And I didn't think that Zumba was the answer to all my problems, as much as I felt like partying at 1:30 in the morning with a muscle spasm in my back. Everyone who has seen me attempt to dance (and there's not many of you out there) knows that there's a reason why I chose running as a sport - coordination! I did go to a funk class at the gym once and didn't even work up a sweat and this was in Summer in Brisbane when thinking can sometimes make me sweat. I just couldn't get it! And on leaving the gym I had to ride in the elevator with the instructor of the class and he asked if I'd enjoyed it - he obviously hadn't taken his eyes off himself in the mirror to see me standing still for most of the class. So I don't think spending all my hard-earned dough on Zumba DVDs is going to help anyone except the person who's selling them.

What they really need to be selling at those ridiculous hours of the morning are drugs!! Sleeping tablets. Colic medicine for babies. Pain killers. And maybe just a little wine to wash the tablets down with (disclaimer - I do NOT advocate the use of alcohol and sleeping tablets together). Seriously, people are not up at that hour of the morning out of choice. And if my drug ads had a 30 minute delivery guarantee like some of the pizza delivery places, I think everyone would be happy.

Luckily it didn't take long for the ibuprofen and heat to work its magic and I was back in bed in less than an hour. And this morning I've woken up pain-free. And with a great idea that could earn me millions!!

Hope you all slept well last night. And if you didn't I hope you too have worked out your path to riches.

Cranky Pants and Theme Songs

2012-02-20T15:04:00.000-08:00

I put my cranky pants on by accident on Sunday. Apparently these are my cranky pants.

Once I had put them on my mood changed. I'd been happy when I got up. I'd felt pretty good so Bubbles and I laced on our walking shoes (that in a previous life were running shoes) and set out on a leisurely 7k. I came home a little tired but okay. I had my breakfast still feeling quite happy. Then I had my shower and put on those shorts and something switched. It could have had something to do with Iven not remembering that we'd planned to go to the movies and he'd decided to fill his day with something different that involved NO FUN WHATSOEVER FOR ME. But I'm blaming the pants. I've since washed them and hung them out in the sun to improve their disposition so I'm hoping they will behave themselves next time I wear them.

So how did I spend my Sunday instead of going to see my other celebrity free pass at the movies? First I'll explain the idea of the celebrity free pass. It is the celebrity who you quite fancy and who you get a free pass from your marriage to spend a little 'quality' time with (assuming that they find you as irresistible as you find them - which of course they would). The celebrity with my top billing is Hugh Jackman (being an Aussie and a nice guy and having a thing for older women helped put him on top). But I've always been a little partial to Liam Neeson. I think it's the accent. And he was starring in the movie that Iven FORGOT we were going to see. (and I have not yet forgotten that he forgot - I'm a little like an elephant that way) So I got to spend the day WORKING. No wonder I had my cranky pants on. I spent four less-than-blissful hours cutting out bikinis for body builders. I'd have rather gone to the movies.

I'm not a very good patient. I think it's because I'm lacking the patient gene. You'd have thought that having three kids would have given me the patience of a saint - but not so. My theme song at the moment is Anastacia's Sick and Tired. Yep, I'm sick and tired of always feeling sick and tired. Maybe she had Glandular Fever too. Or maybe she was just singing about a bad relationship.

Thank goodness I have friends who give me their time to have breakfast with and let me vent to. And, funnily, when I'm with them there doesn't seem to be so strong a need to vent. They give me a little dose of sanity and perspective. Maybe I should change my theme song to Barbra Streisand's People and change the lyrics just slightly to 'People who have people are the luckiest people in the world.'

What's your theme song today?

Recovery And Revenge

2012-02-17T22:05:00.000-08:00

So how's my recovery going? Yes I knew you'd all want to know the answer to that question. It's going well - considering that it's only been two days since I got a diagnosis. But I am a little peeved with my family. They KNOW I have to rest and no one has hired me four strong Nubian slaves wearing only loin cloths (well, it's hot here in Brisbane) and bearing large ostrich feather fans and platters of peeled grapes. It's not much to ask for - after 26 years of marriage and 25 years of child rearing. I know I have a household of four adult males but both Iven and Luke have dodgy backs and they'd struggle carrying me around in a sedan chair. And let's face it, Iven's loin-cloth-wearing-days are probably behind him.

Artist's Impression Of Me And My Nubians

I've been getting a little help with the meals and the laundry. Work's my biggest energy-sucker but there's not a lot you can do about that when you're the sole operator of a business and it's the busy time of the year. Yesterday I had clients in my workroom from midday till 4pm and I found out that I don't do well going without food for so long. So I'm going to buy some healthy snacks to have on hand just in case that happens again. And talking about food - I'm being so good about my diet. I'm throwing fresh greens and reds and oranges and purples with every meal and feeling much better for doing so. I'm avoiding a lot of sugar cause that makes me really tired and I've chucked out lactose all together and my bowels and family thank me for it daily.

Green With Envy

But my biggest problem has come in the shape of a spotted dog. Nelson is jealous! He's getting sick and tired of Bubbles being the chosen one (for walks). And he's acting out like a two year old who missed out on ice cream. He tried the pitiful eyes and soulful expression and that didn't work. I'm not deliberately cruel - he's just the equivalent of 98 in dog years and has dodgy hips that will only carry him a kilometre if he's lucky. Then he switched tactics and decided to bark for most of the time that we were walking. Again, not a very successful tactic because I can't hear him when I'm on the other side of the suburb. But I guess, being a dog you don't have many weapons in your persuasion arsenal.

So he's resigned himself to the fact that he won't be going out and he's not happy - in fact he's been out for some doggy revenge. He's taken ideas from the monkeys in the Madagascar movie and gone for the only other trick up his sleeve (actually, it wasn't up his sleeve) - he's gone for the poo-flinging.

He's gotten me twice in the last 24 hours. Last night he had a little accident on the steps leading outside. He acted like he didn't want to come in until I'd cleaned it up just in case he trod in it and brought it into the house. So he lured me into his carefully thought out and brilliant plan. I went outside and picked up the first deposit, then the second and, while carrying it down the stairs to put into the garden, I stepped in the one that he'd hidden under the cover of darkness. Score one for Nellie - none for me.

Then this morning I woke up early to meet the group before they left me eating their dust. It was still dark but I was confident because of the previous night's shenanigans that there would be no little whoopsies in the kitchen. Well, I was wrong. Nellie had boobie-trapped the floor just as you walk in to turn the light on.Score two for Nellie.

He's Not Sleeping - He's Plotting More Revenge

I've organised for Iven to take him for a little walk this afternoon - so I guess he's won.

Doctor's Visit #2

2012-02-16T13:05:00.000-08:00

To be perfectly honest, it's been a tough week. But today's post is not all doom and gloom. There's a really big silver lining that I'll get to by the end of the story.

When we last left our heroine (me) she had been a bit of a naughty girl and had run just a little bit during her Sunday walk. Being that she suffered no ill-effects from the tiny bit of very slow trotting, she decided to repeat the process on Tuesday's walk. And she could totally justify it as a scientific experiment so she could bring valid results to her apothecary (the older Dr Young)

Well Tuesday's experiment was way less successful than Sunday's. I felt fine while I was running and made sure to stop before my heart rate climbed too high AND I only ran on the flat or down-hill bits. But by the time I'd finished breakfast I was starting to feel a bit ordinary. Tired, nauseated, headachey, achey legs and a bit shivery. I went home and had a nanna nap before I started work. But the sick feeling stayed with me all day.

At my last doctor's visit, he had mentioned that it sounded like Chronic Fatigue Syndrome so, like any normal person with an internet connection would do, I Goggled it. SERIOUSLY NOT THE ILLNESS YOU WANT IF YOU'RE A RUNNER. Average recovery length (if you recover at all) is 7 years. That would take me into my mid 50s!! But after my Tuesday run/walk I saw this as a distinct possibility and thinking this way was messing with my mind. The idea of feeling as awful as I do for 7 years or more was horrendous. I was cranky and snappy and a little bit mean to any family member that looked at me the wrong way.

But then I went to see the nice Dr Young. He had the results of my blood tests and there were some unusual abnormalities with my virus tests. I tested positive to having an older Glandular Fever infection but also positive to a very recent infection and that doesn't really make sense. Except that you can get this reaction if you've had a couple of other viruses - Parvovirus (no, not the dog one) or Cytomegalovirus (which Josh had last year). And I'm probably so tired because you can get post viral fatigue after any virus which will knock me around for a little while longer but I will improve gradually over the next couple of months.

In the meanwhile I have the perfect excuse to be lazy - doctor's orders. I can demand help around the house (something that I'm starting to get better at). I can just lie down when I'm tired at the end of the day (like Iven's been doing for years and I've resented him for). I can go for walks with Bubbles and just make them relaxing walks. And I can sleep in late as much as I want because it's when you're sleeping that the body does its best recovering.

Relief was what I felt first. Followed by elation. I have a name for my condition. I'm not a hypochondriac. I have a plan of action. There's a light at the end of the tunnel.

Then I texted a couple of people and posted on Facebook and was swamped with the love that my running squad is notorious for. I got phone calls from family and friends. And once again felt incredibly blessed that I have such supportive people in my life. And then I felt incredibly tired - there might be light at the end of the tunnel but the end of the tunnel's still a little way off.

Has anyone else had this or known someone who's had it?

I'm a Naughty Girl And I Must Be Spanked

2012-02-11T20:35:00.000-08:00

I have an admission to make. It's actually a confession and I'm a little ashamed. I ran today.

Let's start at the beginning. It was a gorgeous morning when I woke up. We'd had a storm last night and the morning felt fresh and coolish (for summer) and I'd woken up without an alarm just before six am. When I walked into the lounge room, Bubbles looked at me with such longing and expectation that I was powerless to resist. (Actually I walked in and said 'walk' and she did that cute little ears-pricked-head-tilt thing)

My morning heart rate was a very respectable 48 which meant that I wasn't suffering any ill-effects from yesterday's walk so I knew we could push the pace as much as yesterday. My first inkling of temptation came when we hit the first decline. Bubbles was really moving and walking made it hard to keep with her so I just trotted a few steps till we got to the flat part. And in that moment of casual carelessness an evil little plan was born. One of my alter-egos decided that it would be all right to run down any of the declines we came to - which amounted to one section in each of the kilometres except for the middle section. And so to give myself a running break in that k I allowed myself to trot a flat section. And I (hanging my head low with shame telling you this) did have to drag Bubbles faster than she wanted to go BUT dragging her means that her toenails get worn down and I don't have to clip them and she hates me clipping them so I did it in her best interest. (See, I can justify anything) And I didn't ever run more than 200metres.

My average heart rate for the walk was 130 which was less than last Sunday's walk (where all I did was walk). Both were pretty hilly routes but you get that in my suburb of Taringa, which in indigenous dialect means place of hills.

When I got home I felt okay enough to spend 40 minutes in the garden digging up some ground for our new and exciting landscaping. Actually, landscaping is probably too fancy a term for what we're doing. We're just going to put in a couple of plants near my fancy-arse washing line path and we're going to try to get rid of the weeds.

The digging was probably more than I should have attempted. And God punished me by letting my spade hit a root which made my hand get a great big bruise. I've had an afternoon nap and I'm feeling pretty normal. Hopefully there'll be no ramifications tomorrow.

And talking of cupcakes (yeah, I know that no one was talking about cupcakes. But I was thinking about them and couldn't come up with a decent segue) I decided that I wouldn't let my failure of last weekend beat me. I was going to tame that recipe and it was not going to sink this time. I changed things around a little in the recipe and added more flour because last time it seemed like a really wet mix. Well I'm happy to report that it didn't sink quite so far this time. And I'm happier to report that the little concavity will be easy to fill with frosting once I decide what flavour I want to make. And I'm happiest to report that Iven came up with a creative, intelligent and appropriate name for my less-than-perfect sugary treat. He's called it The Sunken Treasure. Sometimes he surprises me.

Only four more days till I see the doctor. I'm really hoping that he'll let me continue to add running breaks to my walks so I can feel less guilty.

Big Dogs, Little Dogs, Black Dogs and White Dogs (apologies to Dr Seuss)

2012-02-10T04:06:00.000-08:00

Sam's finished his exams! That malignant pall has been cast from our house and life can now go on as normal. He was a much happier camper this afternoon when he arrived home with the weight off his shoulders. And quite an exuberant one just now when he turned up with a group of his fellow future-physios. My guess is that they'd been drinking a little (wasn't a hard guess - they were holding bottles of beer). There is nothing more excited than a group of slightly tipsy students who have just finished exams.

My running hiatus continues. I have failed a little in the non-running stakes this week. Actually it was twice in two days. I took Bubbles walking yesterday and we had to run across a road to avoid being road-kill (I think the doctor will forgive me for that one). And today I had to foil the most well-planned breakout since The Great Escape. Nelson thought he'd take the opportunity to take himself for a walk when I was upstairs making my lunch. The only flaw in his plan was that he made too much noise pushing over the piece of wood that is our dog-escape-proofer. I raced through the house and caught him on the other side. Thank goodness he's 98 in dog years. At 48, I have youth on my side. (It's not often I can say that)

I have decided to take up a new hobby, seeing as I have a few spare hours a week. I haven't actually settled on one but I was thinking that dog-watching would be interesting. Or more specifically watching the toileting behaviour of dogs. It's quite fascinating and every dog seems to have his own technique. Nelson's is The Walk Of Shame. He has very unstable hips (you probably would too if you were 98) and can't hold a squat position in one place. So he crouches down and creeps gradually forward leaving deposits at nice regular intervals. This is done while looking over his shoulder with a mortified look on his face.

Bubbles has perfected The Princess Poop. She is a little too precious to defecate in our garden so she tries to save it for our walks. Then she'll find THE most manicured lawn available and do her deed with pride, knowing her loyal servant will clean up behind her.

Did someone say walk?

My sister's dog Wilbur has been a house-guest of ours from time to time and he is The Paranoid Pooper. Willie worries about people or dogs creeping up on him when he's in the act so he circles around three times before squatting quickly and squirting one out. Because it has to be done quickly, there's often more than one toilet stop per walk.

Willie's paranoia may stem from his problem-drinking.

We've also had my other 'nephew' Benny over to stay. Benny is a proponent of the Sharing Is Caring bowel movement. He cannot be in someone else's yard for more than five minutes before he's left a little token of his esteem. (I so wanted to write esteam but that would only apply to very cold winter's days).

So what do you think? Fascinating? Or she's-becoming-that-looney-dog-woman?

An ADD Blog (Or More Scattered Bits of Randomness)

2012-02-07T17:33:00.000-08:00

Before I start I'd just like to say that yes, those were really pyjamas that Sam's wearing. If any of you watch How I Met Your Mother you might recognise them from Barney's wardrobe. Sam decided that he too would like to be as cool as Barney. I personally think he's managed to achieve what he wanted. (but I'm his Mother so I may be biased)

The weather has been incredibly kind to me. It's been so stinking hot and humid that I ALMOST didn't envy the squad heading out to do their speed session yesterday. 24C/75F with a 'feels like' temp of 28C/82F at 5:30 in the morning is not my idea of ideal running temps. There were a lot of red faces and sweat-soaked singlets by the time I'd walked around to them.

I actually managed to pull my gluteal and hamstring yesterday. At this point I'd like to say that I sometimes think that runners run because they're a little too uncoordinated to do anything else. My theory goes back to the time when I joined in a parents/kids soccer match at my son's soccer break-up. I was running along and had to make a sudden turn because the game changed direction and I fell over. I didn't trip. I didn't get ankle-tapped. No one was near me. There were no pot holes. And I didn't even have the ball. I just randomly fell over. And this theory has been proven time and again by my fellow runners and inspired my calendar to Coach Chris - Stacks, Stubs and Other Random Running Injuries.

Yesterday I managed to trip over a speed bump in the car park - stupidly walking along and not watching where I was going. It's just as well I can't run at the moment because I apparently have trouble just walking.

But back to the weather - you know it's hot around here when the ants start making their way indoors. Iven's theory is that they know there's a lot of rain on the way. I'm wondering what kind of equipment the ant meteorologist uses and if it's accurate. I've been finding ants in very unusual and inconvenient places - on top of the shower screen where some people (Josh) leave their toothpaste and toothbrush. Don't worry Josh I rinsed all the ants out before you could see. Also in and on our toilet (I always wondered where the saying 'ants in your pants' came from and now I know). Those little suckers can bite! And finally I found a trail travelling between the shower and the toilet - I'm hoping for Josh's sake that they'd gone to the shower before heading for the toilet!

I got the most awesome parcel in the mail this week. These arrived from Jon and I actually managed to load them up with music and get them working without any assistance from my kids. They are truly idiot-proof and user-friendly.

They hold 4GB of your favourite songs and are really comfortable when you sew or walk (well I'm not allowed to run yet). Their only draw-back is that they can cause leg injuries - I was playing with these when I tripped in the car park.

My life has been filled with little ironies lately - it's almost like the universe is having a laugh at my expense. Iven makes me a lovely path to the clothes line so I don't have to stand on sticks and stones and Nelson's dog poo - Nelson decides that the path is the best place to poop on (or maybe he thought the path needed a dotted line down the middle). I buy a huge tub of protein powder to help build up my muscles - I struggle to open it because my arms are too weak. I come down with this weird fatigue/overtraining thing and Iven gets a bad back so I can't be mean to him while I'm not running - where's the fun in that?!

My wish for each and every one of you for today is that you see those little ironies in life and laugh along with the universe.

Losing My Mojo

2012-02-05T14:18:00.000-08:00

Bubbles and I racked up two walks this weekend. Woohoo! I took her along to meet the squad on Saturday morning. She was a bit confused that I was in my running gear and it was still pretty dark outside and yet she was being invited along. I was stupidly surprised when a few of the squad members knew her name - they'd never met her before. But they'd read my blog and seen her pic. And I shouldn't have been so surprised.

We had a great walk along the river and Bubbles managed to PR a 1k split - 10:23!! A minute faster than her Thursday walk. I think she's getting fitter.

Then we went for a walk up through the bushland at the back of my suburb. It's a really lovely area but very hilly. Probably the wrong walk to do when I'm supposed to be taking it easy but once you've started, the only way to get back home is to keep walking. I kept checking my HR monitor - it got up to 176 on the last awful hill - and wondering if the numbers I was seeing were really abnormal. So frustrating - you can't even go for a little walk without overthinking and worrying.

The rest of the day was filled with baking. I'm still working through the recipes in my new book and the Bento Cupcakes looked really appealing

Picture from my new cupcake cookbook - Making Cupcakes With Lola

They're a chocolate batter with chopped chocolate and in the centre of the cupcake is a caramel-filled chocolate - Yum! I never worry about trying out new stuff because it always works out so I went ahead and followed the recipe to the letter and this is what came out of the oven ...

... Note the big crater in the centre of the cupcake. The cupcake in the original picture DID NOT have one of these. Major fail!! But I went ahead and made the icing - white chocolate cream cheese frosting - and thought I'd hide the concavity with a mountain of sweetness that could put most people into a diabetic coma.

I'd never made this type of frosting before. It involved making a white chocolate ganache and mixing it into the cream cheese frosting and then refrigerating it for about an hour till it was firm enough to pipe on. At this point I'll mention that it's a British cookbook and we're in Australia in the hottest time of the year. I'll also mention that I chose to ignore the heat factor despite the fact that I'm usually a fairly intelligent person. And this is the result ...

My frosting just couldn't manage to hold a swirl so after a couple of failed attempts I just slopped it on. It doesn't look quite like the cookbook picture.

Talk about a blow to my fragile ego - not only have I lost my running mojo but now I've lost my cupcake baking mojo. What next?!!!

But another attempt at a different recipe put my mind at ease.

The caramel biscotti ones worked out just fine. Phew!

Good luck to #1 son, Sam today starting a week of exams. If he got marks for style he'd ace all his exams - here's a photo of him in his new pyjamas.

Hope you all have a good running week. Could you all please run an extra k or two for me?

Scattered Bits Of Randomness

2012-02-02T16:56:00.000-08:00

It's been hard to put a new post together - my thoughts have been so scatty lately. Could it be that running is the only thing that's warding off dementia?

I totally forgot to buy bread yesterday. I'm going to be sacked from my job of Super-Woman. Seriously, who forgets to buy bread?!! Especially when they're the sole food purchaser for a family of four hungry males. There was some very unhappy campers in my house this morning. Personally, I would have thought that bread could be substituted - we have other foodstuffs in the fridge and pantry. Bacon and eggs. English muffins. Two minute noodles. Muesli. All are perfectly adequate breakfast foods (except maybe the two minute noodles - but when you're desperate ...). But apparently they take too long to prepare when you're tired from staying out clubbing till 2am and need to be at work by 9am.

Yesterday I couldn't manage to do basic maths. I've agreed to bake brownies for the up-coming running camp (the one that I've had to pull out of because I can't run, can't kayak, can't walk for longer than an hour). I wanted to find out how many I needed to bake so I could buy the ingredients. There's going to be just over 60 at the camp so Coach Chris and I worked out that I needed 5 dozen. I had a mini, internal freak-out that I'd agreed to do such a big order. An hour later I remembered that each batch of brownies is 2 dozen so I only have to do 3 batches. Mini-crisis averted but there were self-recriminations about the depth of my stupidity.

I went for a walk yesterday evening with Bubbles - the dog with the 6 inch legs. I'd been talking to my sister about our walks the previous day and told her that our pace was about 12 mins per kilometre. She was astounded that we were so slow. I reminded her that I wasn't supposed to be breaking any land speed records at the moment but it tugged that competitive cord in me so yesterday I, stupidly, picked up the pace. I learnt something really important - Bubbles is a great walking companion for me in my current condition. Her top speed is 11:30 per k and if we try to go any faster there's dragging involved.

Once again I had runner's envy of the worst kind yesterday. There's a long gentle descent towards the end of our walk and I had this wild urge to just cut loose and run down it. It's just as well I had Bubbles there to restrain my baser nature. I can only imagine how bad it would have looked with my running wildly down the slope dragging my dog behind me on her belly because her legs had given out.

Once I got to the oval next to my house the runner's envy hit another high. There were dogs running around chasing tennis balls. I've decided that in my next life I'd like to come back as a dog with long flappy ears and the waggliest tail. Then everyone would be able to see just how joyful running makes me. I would bound along with those flappy ears waving behind me in the slipstream that I'd created chasing that green tennis ball until I got distracted by a bird over the other side of the field and then my owner would have to spend half an hour chasing me. (Yes, I'm that dog - the one that's had no obedience training. Actually, I had two weeks of lessons before the instructor asked my owner not to bring me back. Puppy school fail!)

And my final chapter of this random blog belongs to novelty soaps. I was given a cute cupcake-shaped soap for Christmas and the other day it was forced into use. (Yes, I forgot to buy soap as well as bread). While lathering myself up with it in the shower I was compelled to contemplate whether the designers actually intended for it to be used on the human body. Those little brown bits on the soap were more abundant when I pulled it out of the packaging. They were also more sand-paper like - possibly intended for exfoliation or dermabrasion depending on the enthusiasm of the lathering. In fact they were so coarse that, had I had a tattoo I could have saved myself the expense of laser removal. And the shape of the soap is far from ergonomic. But I will say that there are parts of my anatomy that have never been so clean thanks to that mound of 'icing'. I have put soap at the top of my next shopping list ... in capital letters and highlighted!

Has anyone else done anything totally screwy/scatty/without engaging what little grey matter is left? Is this a side-effect of not running?

Doctor's Visit #1

2012-01-30T15:54:00.000-08:00

I finally go to see the doctor yesterday. At this point I'd like to say that I have the MOST wonderful son in the world. He knew that I wasn't comfortable driving into the city in peak hour when I don't know where I'm going, so he volunteered to drive me in to save me the stress. He's so incredibly thoughtful.

The doctor's visit went as I'd suspected except for one small detail. My doctor's name is Young so I'd imagined him to be in his 30s. He was probably around 50 so he wasn't exactly old - just not quite as his name had suggested. I gave him an overview of what's wrong and I hope I've given him all the relevant information. He asked a lot of questions, did a bit of poking and prodding and wrote out a pathology request form. I really hope that my blood will hold the answers. He told me that Overtraining Syndrome is pretty unusual but my symptoms were consistent with it. He also mentioned Chronic Fatigue but was reluctant to call it that either. I am a bit of a medical enigma - a woman of mystery and intrigue.

I have to see him in a fortnight and in the meantime I'm allowed to go for little walks with my dog (or without) and do some yoga but nothing else. He was a little reluctant to let me do the walks but decided that they could provide him with information. I have to take my pulse before getting up every morning and document how I'm feeling.

I've already failed at the morning pulse-taking. I'd decided that I was going to walk where my squad has speed session and so I'd set my alarm for 4:50am. But I'd woken up in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep for a while so when it got to 4:50 I was in the middle of a dream where I was running late for the session. I couldn't wake up enough to hit the snooze button and by the time I found it I was a lather of sweat and pumping adrenalin so I decided that this morning's pulse wouldn't really give any accurate information. I'll start the pulse taking thing tomorrow.

I almost talked myself out of going today. It seemed like it was a little pointless because I'd only get to see everyone for a few minutes at the beginning and at the end. But I had a cake to deliver AND I was having breakfast after so I did go. And it was anything but pointless. I got to chat with a few people before they took off. I walked through the group while they were doing their reps and got to say hello to a lot. A few slowed right down in their recoveries to talk and at the end one of the girls walked back to the car park with me. I was included even if I couldn't do what everyone else was doing. Sometimes I think we have the nicest group in the world (but I actually know that it's the running community in general).

I don't think it's going to be too hard surviving the next fortnight of not running - I'll have my Tuesdays and Saturdays (if I can kick myself out of bed) to keep me going. And I know I've got a huge cheer squad out there all rooting for me to get better and get out there running again. I am blessed.

I'm needing to hear a lot of positive stuff lately so I'd love to hear how you've been blessed lately. What's the positive things that have made you smile today?

Resisting The Urge

2012-01-26T17:00:00.000-08:00

We had a brief reprieve from the rain yesterday - just enough to let the sun attempt to come out and steam us like a sauna. And of course, because it wasn't raining, I felt the pull of the run. So I walked instead. Bubbles is loving that I can't run. All these extra longer walks that she's getting are doggy heaven. Actually, they're more run than walk for her. Her legs are only about 6 inches long so they have to go double time just to keep up with my slow walk. There's one thing, though, that just doesn't add up with her. If her legs are only 6 inches long, how does she manage to pee 8 inches up from the base of the tree? And why does she pee like a boy (leg cocked) but Nelson (our male dog) pees like a girl? There's a double case of canine gender confusion in our house.

Bubbles Recovering From Our Walk

While we were out walking I saw a girl running with her dog. It looked so effortless and full of joy and I was immediately filled with such envy and frustration. I want to run and I want to run with joy. Unfortunately the only way I'm going to do that is to take the time to recover now. Patience can be such a hard virtue to learn and re-learn.

Focussing on the frustration is not productive so I'm trying to focus on positives.
- Bubbles is loving her walks.
- Her extra walks mean that I'm not having to clip her nails as often.
- I get to stay up late and watch the tennis without consequences the next day.
- There is less smelly washing.
- My hair is staying neater.
- I've got a great excuse to have a nap if I'm tired.
- There's only a couple more days till I get to see the doctor and, hopefully, get some direction.
- There's more time to bake cupcakes.

I've been watching The Biggest Loser, which started last Sunday, and once again I am amazed by the lack of discipline and the level of self-indulgence in some people's lives. Some of these people have never pushed themselves out of their comfort zones in their entire life and continue on self-destructive patterns even though it's making themselves miserable. I never thought I was particularly disciplined but apparently I am. In fact, I'm so disciplined that I don't know how to back off and just chill when I need to.

And to change topics totally - I've been in tears all morning over a thread on Facebook. That's tears of laughter. Someone had the bright idea of getting people to describe their last bowel movement in terms of a movie title. And I still have my 4 year old sense of humour -

The Great Escape
Blazing Saddles
A Cry in The Dark
The Scream
Black Hawk Down
Titanic
Gone in 60 Seconds
The Long Goodbye

Can you think of any others?

How To Amuse Yourself When You Can't Run

2012-01-24T18:02:00.000-08:00

Week #1 of No Running.

A whole 7 days has past since I last put one foot in front of the other with a little bounce. Honestly, the timing of this couldn't have been better. We have had almost constant rain this week and if I was able to run I probably wouldn't want to. It's been quite heavy rain too - 170 ml/ 7 inches in the last 24 hrs and no reprieve in sight. It's making a few Brisbanites a little nervous considering that it was just around 12 months ago that a good part of the city went under.

Iven decided to have this week off work to do a little project that he's been meaning to do since we moved in - 25 years ago. I finally have a concrete path to my clothes line. He put it in on Monday, when it wasn't raining so heavily so heaven knows if it's dry. But when it's finally dry I'll be able to walk to the line without stepping on sticks and stones and hidden dog pooh. My man really knows how to spoil a gal!!

And talking about Iven, I suggested a little while ago that he could benefit from increasing his protein intake. I suggested that he might like to take some of my protein powder. Well, he did manage to find use for it - the empty bucket, that is. And who knows, it might even help build up some of those muscles. I know all you girls out there are a little jealous of me now seeing my hunk of man-flesh. Well you can all back off cause he only has eyes for me.

I've had to find ways to amuse myself over the last week - apart from taking the mickey out of my husband, that is. So I've had to turn to Facebook for a little light entertainment at my kids' expense. One of my philosophies in child-rearing is to give my kids a hard time in front of their friends and they'll build up resilience.

I still don't understand how and why I haven't been 'unfriended' yet. I guess they know where their cupcakes come from.

Starting back at work has also kept me occupied. It's been a little busy for the first week back. I've had a few clients through my door and I'm not quite back into the swing of things. I have the TV going most of the day to keep me company. I've got it hooked up to a recorder and watch a lot of the stuff that they show at night. But when clients come in I pause it so I can give them my undivided attention. But being the first week back I forgot to pause it yesterday when this Nana and her ten year old grand daughter came to organise some costumes. I'd been watching a documentary of how the Petronis Towers were built and while we were discussing colours and fabrics and design, the documentary finished and a movie started. There's a certain distinctive music and noises to movie sex and that's what we heard. I couldn't find the remote control quick enough. Now I'm a little worried that I may have contributed to the delinquency of a minor. Ooops!

Walking The Dog

2012-01-22T14:09:00.000-08:00

Tough training day yesterday. After doing absolutely zero, zilch, nada on Saturday (when I'd had a walk scheduled with Natalie and piked because I was too tired), I actually felt pretty good. I put on one of my yoga DVDs in the morning and did a little posing and then after a midday nap, I took Bubbles for a walk. For a whole hour!! It's a little pathetic when my weekend run would normally be up around the two hour mark but I gotta do what I gotta do.

Iven and Nelson came for the first part of the walk with us but Nelson's 14 year old almost non-existent hip joints stop him from doing more than about 20 minutes now and that has to be done very conservatively. We walked through the bush at the back of the school next door then crossed the road to the park. It's all very pretty and we're so lucky to have such an expanse of green right near our door and only about 5k from the city. And when you're walking you really get to appreciate it, seeing as you're actually able to see it instead of zooming right by.

It was a pleasant summer's afternoon and both the school oval and the park were being well used. There were games of touch football, Frisbee, kids riding bikes, kids on the playground equipment and people out walking dogs. There was one woman in particular walking her dog and she was just a little ahead of us on the footpath - I was keeping my eye on her because our dogs are not the friendliest while out on their walks. Nelson isn't friendly because he's been attacked quite viciously when he was young. We don't really know Bubbles history - she was a stray who stayed.

When Bubbles first arrived at our house she was a scared, shy little thing. She weighs about 4 kgs dripping wet and has some miniature fox terrier in her and that's about all I know. Sam said she followed him. I tend to think there was some coaxing involved. She spent the first week at our house with her tail between her legs, cowering a lot while I spent the first week trying to find her real home and then our home became her real home and her tail came out into the wagging position and the rest is a six year history. We have no idea how long she was lost when we found her and no idea what happened to her while she was out in the big, bad world. But we do know that she doesn't like being approached while out on her walks.

Anyway, back to the lady in front of us with the black poodle that I was keeping my eye on. She had the dog on one of those extendible leads that I hate. I hate them because the owners her use them often wander unaware of what their dog is up to. They let them extend across the path of pedestrians, runners and walkers - the perfect tripping hazard. And they let their dog stop and sniff whatever and whoever they want - including other dogs that don't want to be sniffed. Bubbles made it quite clear that she was in this category - she snarled and her hackles went up - but the poodle was kinda dumb and so was its owner. She stood with a silly aren't-they-cute smile on her face and let that poodle wander over in our direction, with Bubbles snarling and barking and me trying to pull her away. And then I did something awful - I turned into a nasty old lady who says exactly what she thinks. I told her that our dogs weren't very friendly (I would have thought that was fairly obvious) and she'd do well to keep her dog restrained. And then I muttered Stupid Cow under my breath. At least I'm hoping it was under my breath but I'm not sure because I was so stunned with this woman's lack of common sense.

I'm turning into a shrew! But for the moment I'm blaming my inability to run. And I'm praying desperately that as I return to running I will become a nicer person.

But lack of running has given me ample baking time. Three batches of cupcakes over the weekend, I've got another birthday on Tuesday and had to get a cake done for Fi yesterday cause I start work today. I wanted to do her the cookie dough cake because my kids have deemed it 'kinda awesome.' But I do the birthday cakes in a four inch tin and didn't know how I could put in the cookie dough. Until my totally-inept-in-the-kitchen-but-can-make-a-pretty-good-cup-of-tea husband gave me inspiration. He asked if I couldn't put a layer of cookie dough under the icing. Well no, that was just plain stupid BUT I could cut the cake in half and put the dough between the layers. So I rolled out the dough and cut it with a big cookie cutter.

It turned out better than I'd hoped for.

Have you ever let your mouth have free reign and tell off a stranger?

More on Overtraining and Cupcakes.

2012-01-20T18:13:00.000-08:00

The reality of not being able to run is starting to set in. Saturday just doesn't feel like a Saturday without a few hours of hot, sweaty socializing with your running peeps. (I think I've been watching too much TV - peeps? seriously?!!) I slept in till 7 am. But luckily we were having a running breakfast so I could get my GaleForce fix for the weekend. Thank you Paul for having a birthday and leaving the country. (I'm not thanking you for leaving the country I'm thanking you for giving us a reason to celebrate. But really, celebrate is probably the wrong word too - we will miss you. And I'll stop now before I put a third foot into my mouth.)

What is a runner when she can't run?? A ner?! That's only half a description and it makes me feel like only half the person I usually am. I wore one of my squad singlets when I went for a walk the other day and felt like a fraud so I've been compelled to make temporary alterations.

They're temporary because I know I'll be running again - just don't know when. I tried doing my strength session yesterday but it's probably a little soon because it left me on the couch for the rest of the afternoon. (Thank goodness that the tennis is on and I'm still on holidays and I've got a good book to read)

For all who don't know Overtraining Syndrome happens when you place your body under constant high levels of stress for a long period of time. It doesn't have to just be training stress. It can be work stress and relationship stress. And the stressors are cumulative. If you're training hard plus have stress in other areas of your life then you're in the danger zone. I've had some major life stressors in the last 4 or 5 years - one is resolved only to have its place taken by another. And I'll admit to using running as a coping mechanism. My first bout of overtraining syndrome happened three years ago and I've been walking along the precipice of it on occasions since.

My symptoms are worsening performance in training, poor sleeping patterns, digestive problems, nausea after training which will last for the rest of the day, a high heart rate and grinding fatigue. But I know for each person the symptoms can be different. The last time this happened I didn't take much time out but I was very careful not to push too hard once I started running after two weeks off - short distances run really slowly with my heart rate kept at a very low rate. This time I am going to take off as much time as I need. I'm expecting it to be up to 8 weeks but I haven't talked to the doctor yet so that number's a little ethereal.

But sometimes the symptoms are subtle and can be confused for other things. I'm not a great sleeper so not sleeping well is not a surprise and if my HR is a little higher in the morning then it's probably because I didn't sleep well and it's hot at the moment. And I didn't run well at training because I didn't sleep well and it's hot. And sometimes the heat makes me nauseated. It's quite an insidious condition.

But enough about me. Let's talk about cupcakes! My new cupcake book is still providing me with inspiration. But some of the cakes can cause quite surprising reactions.

I tried another recipe yesterday (because of Paul's birthday/going away celebration/man -we're-going-to-miss-your-happy-smiley-face breakfast) Everyone gets to be a guinea pig so I can test out these new recipes. I made the Chocolate Fudge Brownie cupcake and used a chocolate cream cheese frosting. The frosting was so delicious that I'm going to post it here.

Ingredients - 60g butter (room temp)
225g cream cheese (room temp)
85g melted chocolate
pinch of salt
3 1/2C icing sugar
1 tsp vanilla
Method - Make sure you melt the chocolate first so it can cool. I melted it for 1 min in the microwave. Beat up the butter and cream cheese in an electric mixer until well combined. Add in the melted chocolate, vanilla and salt and mix well. Then add the icing (confectioners) sugar in batches and mix well.

It was so delicious that I had to have a little out of the piping bag once I'd finished icing the cakes. And then a little turned out to be a lot. And then I felt sick. When will I learn!!!

What is your downfall food - you know the one that you find it hard to stop at a reasonable sized portion??

The Plan

2012-01-18T17:39:00.000-08:00

Guess the decade!

If you've guessed the 80s, you'd be right. Look at the beautiful big puffy sleeves and the pretty taffeta. And the white suit. (That's a dead giveaway.) And the amount of hair that Iven still has on his head.

It was 26 years ago yesterday. As I wrote on Facebook, 26 years and we haven't killed each other yet - it must be love! Time flies when you're having fun and paying off a mortgage and raising kids.

So we celebrated by going to the movies (boy, do we know how to live it up). We saw The Descendants which is probably not the best all-time anniversary movie. It deals with switching off life-support, infidelity and other heavy issues and it had Iven sniffing just half an hour into it. He's such a softy! I, however, only cry when there are deep advertisements like the Gold Lotto ad or when someone's dog dies or if the team finally wins the championship against all odds.

But I'm not going to harp on about eternal love and happily ever after when there are real-life issues to be dealt with. I have an interim plan! Having an exercise physiologist for a son can be a real bonus for a runner. I would definitely recommend that all you mothers out there encourage your children into runner-friendly professions like EP, Sports Medicine, Massage Therapy or Physiotherapy. The fact that Sam is now studying to be a Physio is an added bonus. (And having to volunteer to help him with his massage pracs - well it's only what any good mother would do, isn't it?!)

His take on my current 'injury' (I'm going with injury because it's a lot less complicated to explain to people who haven't spent hours on-line educating themselves on overtraining syndrome) is that I am allowed to exercise but it has to be at a very low intensity. None of this getting your heart rate up to that 180 region. Low and slow is the motto until I see the sports med doctor. I can do my yoga. I can walk. And I can even do my strength training but less reps and more rest between exercises. And all his recommendations gel with what I've read on line.

My biggest issue with NOT being able to run is NOT having that social time a few times a week. But there's nothing to stop me from heading over to the speed session on Tuesdays and walking while they're running. And this will mean that no one will have their birthday missed. So I'm happy that I've got a little bit of direction.

I actually did do my yoga yesterday before I had Sam's permission. And this time I managed to get most of it done without distractions. It was only the last 4 poses that I had company for. Josh sat down on the couch with his breakfast and watched me complete the session. And he did it without laughing. At one stage he sneezed and apologised for sneezing on me. I hadn't felt a thing so I told him he'd missed. But when I'd finished and was rolling up my towel I found a blob of peanut butter. The towel had been under me when he'd sneezed so I'm incredibly impressed with his accuracy.

2012-01-16T13:54:00.000-08:00

I want to yell, scream and shout, kick my heels on the floor in frustration and throw a major tantrum. Ever since I had my ultrasound I've been really struggling with my running. I had to walk after 11k on my Saturday long run and even though we were only travelling at 6 min/k my heart rate was over 170. Today's speed session had my heart rate up that high just in the warm up. The session was mile reps and I managed a whole one and it was awful. Six minute pace and a heart rate of up to 183. I stopped after the one rep - it was pretty pointless continuing and just felt sick. Didn't know if I was going to throw up, have diarrhoea or faint.

So today I'm calling a sports med doctor. I won't be going back to the one I saw last year - wasn't totally happy with him. I've been recommended one by three different sources so I'm hoping he has time to fit me in in the not-to-distant future. I need answers and I need a plan. I'm not ready to be a walker yet!

Anyway, that's enough for the whining portion of today's post. I've been baking again. My sister and Mum found me the most amazing cupcake cookbook and I've been inspired. I've also had a few birthdays at the squad. One of the girls has Coeliac's Disease so the challenge was to make a gluten-free cake. I'd just seen a recipe, chocolate and lime flourless cake, so Jenni got to be my guinea pig. I'm not sure that I got the timing right, getting it out of the oven - it sank a bit. But a little extra icing can hide a multitude of sins.

Then the weekend came and the lure of the new cookbook was too great. Cookie dough cupcakes anyone? It was a three step recipe. First make the cookie dough (mmm, choc chip). Then make the cakes and let them cool. Then gouge a hole in the cakes and fill them with cookie dough and then make and pipe on the icing. The icing was something really different - it had flour and salt in it and, yes, it did taste a bit like cookie dough.

Then finally, I needed another couple of birthday cakes for today's session. I was feeling a little lazy so I went with my usual caramel mud recipe. But it was the decorations that really made the cake. A little tower of Ferrero Rocher chocolates and a drizzle of chocolate.

Drizzling the chocolate can be a messy business so it's just as well I always have some willing helpers to help with the cleaning up.

Has anyone else had issues with overtraining syndrome? I'd love to hear other people's stories!