10 miles on Ilkey Moor Bar t'at

So I met Sarah Smith (fellow Valley runner) outside the supermarket on Saturday night and casually mentioned I wanted to run 8 miles in the morning (upping my miles again therefore wanting to forget about time and just enjoy it) and she invited me along to a run on Ilkley Moor with Mike Ayers (Founder of North Leeds Fell Runners).

It was Fab! It was a sunny, frosty morning, Sarah picked me up at 7am and we were on the fell side for 8am (ish). As soon as Mike heard I was a relatively new comer to the lesser known trods of Ilkley Moor he got very excited. We bagged 3 checkpoints, a forest, Swastica stones, a plane wreckage and a decomposed sheep.

After 2 1/2 hours I'd gone 10 miles! What an achievement! We walked bits and jogged bits and talked lots. I miss the fells...and maybe more importantly to Strava users...my watch!

Despite the running world not being able to analyse my times & distance, my stress levels and sense of self logged every vista, sun beam and aimless conversation. I'd had a short (but passionate!) cry the night before and really valued time back in my old life - on the hills, no buggy, no nappies...no worries. I even got bored after 2 hours and opted for a shorter route home.

PECO this weekend - bring it on!

7 miles long run

After many weeks of blogging silence I'm ready to share again. Thank you to all the lovely people who stretched out a friendly, supportive hand over the last few weeks. It really boosted me. John (below - at the end of parkrun), shared his memories of life with two young children and was really honest and I have loved this about this blog; hearing about other's experiences which otherwise would have gone unheard.

Thanks to John for taking/talking me through the second half of my first 10K after the Holly Hustle defeat. I ran to the park (3m) and then did parkrun (3m) and was as pleased as punch to have done it.

I then ran a few times through the week and then did a 10k in just over 45 minutes - to say I was proud is an understatement...I still haven't shut up about it! It was a cold and sunny morning, a flat route with plenty of cheerful faces.

The best bit was meeting up with the South Leeds Sisters at the start and cheering them on along the route. For 2 days after I relished the nostalgic ache and heavy legs.

I had planned to be up to a 10 mile ling run by January but I'm a bit behind. I plan on running each day in December (even if it's only 20 minutes with the buggy) and that should help get me into the swing of things. My toddler has stopped napping so mid afternoon is being earmarked for training and I've dug out super warm pram suits to keep them both warm on my adventures.

7 miles for my log run this month...starting tomorrow!

Sorry

The storm has passed and I now regret having had a rant publically. My husband came off worst and I feel awful. It's not his fault I'm overwhelmed.

This is a fairly typical sight each morning (they're probably watching 'Hey Dougee'!) and I'm sorry I portrayed his support as anything less than round the clock devotion.

Neither of us have enough time or energy to do something for ourselves each day. We're both bogged down with toddler tantrums, potty training, poo-ey nappies, 3am feeds, tired infants, work (paid or unpaid), cooking and cleaning. We both miss running when we want, lie ins, popping out for a quick pint and having a bath in peace. I was too busy thinking about how hard it is and I forgot he's in it too.

Sorry x


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Holly Hustle - Holly shuffle

So the Hustle started well - the technical descent through the woods to Meanwood park was exhilarating and I got up some good speed.  As we went parallel to the stream I eased up into a nice pace but felt out of sorts. I managed to keep running for the next 15 minutes but as we descended down through to the bottom of the park & along the duck board bridge I felt tired. I started to walk. I kept running and walking, thinking that I'd walk as much as I needed and run when I could. The walking sections increased and it was harder and harder to run. My tummy felt sore, I needed the loo and I really needed a drink.

I'd had a headache the night before and dodgy tummy in the morning. I'd been encouraged to have a slice of toast but couldn't stomach much more than a glass of water & a cup of black tea.

Just before half way I decided to give it up as a bad job and started back for the finish - good job I new the area! I was proud of myself for deciding to turn back - it felt right, going on would have been an insult to injury. Safe as to say I spent the rest of the day in bed and bottle fed the little one.

There is always next year.

4 months, 6 miles & trapped

It was Little One's 4 month birthday this week and the start of a new month which marks upping my long run. I'm a bit nervous and I think he senses it because as I write this he's staring at me, it's quite unnerving!

Even though I'm not fit enough to race there's a 6.8 mile trail race that's got a good name - Holly Hustle! I missed it last year because I was too pregnant but I've no excuse this year! I'll try to feed just before I go and be back within 4 hours.

The 4 hour feeding regime is a challenge but I'm sticking it to it in the hope I'll get more sleep soon. The toddler was poorly this week and Little One wasn't sleeping well so I was back to feeling fragile and the littlest thing made me cry.

The intensity of looking after such young children, most of the time by myself, has made me feel trapped. Before I had the second we (the toddler and I) would do something in the morning and during her afternoon nap I would have time to myself. Since the second one coming I've lost the afternoon nap because he doesn't settle very well yet. Last week I could feel the frustration building up and by Sunday I wanted to scream. I had made some attempts to talk about how I felt but didn't feel like anyone was listening.

I went running. The woods were really therapeutic; the sun shone, it was quiet & I was alone.

I jogged, walked, sobbed and sang Roxy Music, Love is the drug (substituting 'love' for 'running'). I thought about how Little One could survive without me now he takes a bottle. I thought about how unfair it was that my husband can have a lunch break and take himself off for a run without having to arrange childcare. I wondered about going back to work.

I realised a few things:

• I wanted my body back for some part of the day
• I wanted someone else to take full responsibility for the children for some part of the day
• I want to do something for me each day

I was annoyed at myself for not spotting the warning signs of the implosion. I decided to plan how I wanted to go forward and felt loads better for it. 

Over the last week we've made changes to our routine - practical things like my husband doing a formula feed at 11pm so my body is mine from 7pm-3am and my husband taking turns to settle Little One through the night. I've felt loads better and, apart from a quickly remedied relapse this weekend, have been sticking to the plan. So far so good!

Now on to the Holly Hustle...eek!

Grieving for my old life

It's been a while since I sat down to put my thoughts on the screen. For a few reasons...the biggest one is finding something new to talk about and finding the time where it's just me. I wasn't going to bother saying it because it's boring this blog has triggered lots of conversations about shared experience and it's nice to not feel on my own.

Since my last post I have run 2 more 5 mile long runs (this is Gemma and I at the end of a gentle local loop).

I've upped the effort sections in the hill/effort runs and have now started feeling more like I used to. My body still looks different but the marathon plan has helped get me out 3 times in the week and I'm now seeing the results.

I went back to run at South Leeds Sisters. There were 3 of us returning after some time off and the heavens treated us to autumn rain and we were cold!

I'm getting more used to the rhythm of our week days now, it's still hard to get out of the door and my toddler has started potty training so that adds an extra layer of anxiety and forward thinking but I try to do just one thing in the morning and that seems to be working well. I feel like I'm less annoyed at being less productive than I used to be and in talking to a friend about this she framed it as grieving for her old life (and body). I liked the idea because it feels like a journey of getting used to a new life and letting go of your old life. Life moves on and there are things you'll loose and things you'll gain but to wish it can be any different is unhelpful.

This brings me onto the journey I'm going on with my body. It all started with conceiving...my body was mine and the little ones. I changed what I ate, stopped drinking and didn't push the exercise. Now I'm just breast feeding I have a little more control over it but it looks and feels different. I'm struggling to get my head around it and it's been interesting to see my thoughts change.

Initially I wasn't bothered about the extra size - I'd just given birth & that's massive! But as time went on I started to notice how the extra cake "for the baby" didn't shrink like my uterus did. With well meaning comments like "Well done for getting back into shape" I felt annoyed rather than encouraged. What shape did people want me to be? What shape do I want to be? Why can't I be happy with the shape I am? I started eating more cake and biscuits while imagining putting one finger up to the world.

I'm still doing it...it feels like self sabotage but it's something I have control over. I started searching for a way to feel OK with how I look right now so I can have control without eating more. I want to be confident what ever shape I am. I'm currently trying to wear my old clothes again. I look different but have decided to embrace it and it's really nice to have more choice in my wardrobe. Picking tops that I can feed and hide my tummy was limiting but choosing with just feeding in mind is loads easier. I even wore slimmer running t-shirt at parkrun this morning and no one batted an eyelid - my friends or me! It was nice to have my club t-shirt back on too. I wonder if is this part of getting used to my new body - I'm still me, just a little different.

The different feeling of doing parkrun with a double buggy was awesome too! I got lots of praise for my efforts and my toddler proudly described me as "Strong Mummy!" and I was beaming! I couldn't have had the feedback without having had children.

5 Mile Moan

The first Sunday of September marked upping the mileage - I was dreading it! I recruited my fab friend, Sarah, to help me through it. We've had our children at very similar times and, luckily for me, her youngest is 7 months so she's a little further on in her recovery and has done all her Great North Run training so was happy to pull me round a 5 mile loop. 

Us before we set off:

After:

My smile has widened and so has my hair! This is the look of a massive sense of achievement. It was really hard. Sarah was a really good partner, she talked me through the route so I knew where the inclines were and where the flat started so I could look forward to them.

5 miles doesn't sound a lot in my head because my pre-baby long run was generally 10 miles so it was hard to get my head around why I felt tired. Saying that I did really well at not beating myself up - I kept reminding myself to run tall and tuck my tail bone under, relax my shoulders and take in the scenery. By the last mile my concentration was slipping and was really glad when my watched bleeped to mark 5 miles. I was so happy we carried on to the car!

Sarah and I had a good debrief about the week with our children and it was really nice to have the safety to talk about the negative parts without worrying she thought I was moaning. We discussed why we don't do it more. I'm worried people will think I'm boring. I think I feel like that because I read that most of what we see and are told about the way the world works is written and told by men and any other topic or view point is an alternative to the norm. I studied psychology and found out that psychological theory is based on the observations of boys and men which is then applied to everyone. Women's experience isn't the same - both genders are treated and develop differently. This isn't taken into account. I have recently been reading about the women's experience and I get a fantastic feeling of being at home. Maybe I have been reading the wrong things!

This also brings me onto the Bechdel test and to ponder which films, books and wider media feature women who are talking about interesting things.

Meta rant over...recovery food!!!! I do wonder if the best bit about running is the eating afterwards! I managed to sneak chocolate past my toddler too - not sure which is the biggest achievement!