Twenty Fourteen!

I haven't written much about my running this past while, because there hadn't been much running. When I first started running, I started writing, and this had a reciprocal effect almost to the point that I needed the motion of running to get my creative side flowing.  Coming out of an injury-plagued spell I am back on the road and feeling compelled to write.

Two months in the new year and I am overjoyed to be back on the road. I have a training plan and my big goal is Comrades on 1st June. The way back to fitness has been tough because I sat and sulked for a long time without realising it and I think I may have gotten grumpier, but you will have to ask hubby that. The more I sat, the heavier I got and I left all my fitness behind. In December I resumed a plod that is so much like my early running days and the road felt like a stranger to me.

My face reddened, veins bulged, sweat poured, heart pounded but little by little I got better. I am still unable to talk for the first three km of any run, which for me is so distressing. I have perfectly good conversations going in my head, but they can't get past the thickening tongue and bursting lungs. Some of my runs have been nicer than others and yesterday I had a really pleasant one that urged me back to the keyboard.

The famous tough Pirates half marathon takes runners across a part of Jo'burg and up part of the ridge towards a water tower in Northcliff. The hills here are very testing and having done it many times before, I knew that it would not serve me in any way other than to deter me, so I knew I would not run it. However my friends were all lining up and our club was present so I decided I would go along and do my own run around the race grounds. I set off a half hour before the official race start and took my own route. I had a fairly good idea of the surrounds so I weaved in and out of quiet streets and made my way towards the Emmerentia dam. The air was crisp but full of promise of heat and I was grateful for the still shady streets as the sloping angles made my heart rate rise. I found the dam quicker than I expected and admired the geese, birds, canoeist and solitary swimmer on the water. Cyclists were out and about and everyone seemed to be in a fine mood. The Botanical gardens beckoned me in and early morning walkers crossed the lovely pathways. I neared the waters edge and the sun rays spilled through a thick shady tree, the air golden with the evening moisture I stopped and caught my breath and felt the glow inside. I trotted off again, smiling inside when I saw a huge 'no dogs beyond this point' sign and ten steps beyond two boisterous pups played oblivious to their transgression. Further into the gardens, the 'dog zone' was a pleasure to see with ball playing hounds of all shapes and sizes which reminded me of the dog area in Central Park. Making mental notes to bring our dogs here one day I raced a Border Collie youngster for ten steps until he realised I wasn't his owner. The kilometers ticked merrily by as I was so distracted in this great park. I knew I would have to start making my way back so headed back out onto the road and managed to run the race route for the last two kilometers. The water tables were still being stocked up and bored marshalls sat waiting for some action. The sky opened up while the shadows shrunk and I was grateful that I would be long finished by the time the sun really hit this stretch of road. Turning back into the race grounds I was amazed by how quiet the area was. Thousands of cars sat, almost as if they were watching and waiting for their owners and I realised that I never see the car park like this when I finish races. I had to make up a little bit of distance so I ran the whole stretch of the road and then turned back towards my car. I felt surprisingly good and delighted to know that this good feeling was after the second weekend of back-to-back 10km's. Next weekend I increase the distance to 15km and I'm looking forward to clearing out the cobwebs of the 'double digit' running.
It's great to be back!

Been a bit slow putting my writings on this, but here is a recent one of my running!

This time of year brings about unpredictable weather, and that affects my unpredictable training. Although I could say that my running is easy to predict. Rain- no run, icy wind- no run, snow- no run. I know we don't get much snow here in Jozi, but we do feel the effects of national snow lying on the bergs. The wind throws itself over the landscape and forces me to hide, usually under my blankets. That sounds great, but I have rather a long run coming up next month.




Eighty kilometers of Karoo. Perhaps I should change the whole concept and tell myself, and my body, that I am going to see the 'flowers' on foot! People from around the country gather in buses, trains and automobiles to drive great distances to the flattest, harshest area of land that comes alive in the Spring with amazing flowers. I am going there too now, and I must say one thing I haven't seen yet is the flowering Karoo. I am even going to be taking it all in, in great detail and slow motion. (Hopefully not too slow!)



Due to this touristy project, I was up before the sun again on Sunday and before the snow fell somewhere, and joined a cluster of tourists for a long run. There was a 15km route planned and we could do laps, however many we wanted. This sounds nice on paper, yes, I get to choose how far am I going to go, but, it makes it rather tempting to just say, 'enough now' and head for my car! I was surprised to see so many folks I knew, although there were a couple of chaps who aren't doing the Karoo, but are doing the mountain goat race on the same day as our flowers. So jokes announced, maps handed out - we set off. The one chap had said he would stick with me, but I don't think he realised it could take me quite as long and he had made lunch plans! Ha!



My other 'flower friend' had run to the club for an extra 9km's, so he was already warmed up and ready to keep moving. I was rather reluctant but we trippled out of the car park, and watched a rather quick group speed off into the early morning. Chatting and joking it was rather pleasant running with some different people but I did begin to feel guilty slowing down the pace. Luckily Mr Wikipedia wasn't feeling up to his usual form, and he called some early walks, much to my relief. I started to feel a need, and began to look for a toilet, but most places weren't open yet. At around 12km's I managed to find a clean-ish garage, and I was very thankful that I had brought along my pouch with necessary money, tissues, sweets, cheddars and biltong.

Alan joked that I would run much faster if I didn't carry 9kg's of baggage. I scoffed at him, all this equipment is very necessary, it's not like its make-up, or accessories, ah wait, I do carry Zambuk and plasters.

I met up with the others feeling much lighter and ready for the rest of the run. Until 21km's that is, then I just lost interest. I kept trying to chase away the faster guys, to leave me alone, and walk, but they wouldn't hear of it. At the one spot, the organiser said, "you can always go straight here, instead of doing the extra loop" Before he had finished the sentence myself and Willem had already sprinted away from him, in case he changed his mind. I felt a nice delight when we got to the garage before them and was able to buy some Energade, and take my time. Before long they were with us, and then I realised that the second lap felt much quicker than the first one.



We had agreed to do two laps, because that would give Willem almost 40km's of road. I was happy with the almost 30 and was very happy to see my little car waiting in the sun. With a short drive to my couch, I 'parked' myself there for the remainder of the day with the remote control as my travelling companion. Bliss!

A few days away from the start of my third Comrades Marathon. Hopefully I bring back my second medal! I am at times so excited, then others puzzled. Is this really me? On one hand it seems like just another race, yet on the other hand it feels monumentous. Especially when people say they admire me, or they are in awe of me. It feels so natural in many ways to be doing this and then so unbelievably unlike me on the other. I still like to park close to shops, so I don't have to walk far. The thought of climbing stairs brings back the 'old me'. Running for a ringing telephone tires me out, yet I am fitter than I ever was in my twenties and thirties.
So it does feels unbelievable, yet if I have gotten to this point, anyone can!
I am not one of those driven, dedicated types, 'laissez faire' would be a more accurate style of person, hubby would disagree and say 'lazy fair' (which is probably truer!). I dislike routine, and I am certainly not competitive. If it rains, I stay at home and forgo the run. But the difference is, not running one day, doesn't put me off forever, like it used to.
The physical act of running isn't even the attraction. I don't go all mathematical and work out my running speed, and the last km's timing, because that bores me. I have an idea now of what I am capable of, and I do look at the end of say 10kms, and then do any maths, if need be. I don't know how I should be running with proper gait, and heel strike, all I know about is that I seem to plod, or shuffle, and that works for me.
I am boring in the way that I can now talk running for hours with fellow runners, but usually about other runners and not the technicalities of anything. I want to know how other people feel, and what they do, and that is what interests me. People have stories, and my running friends have years and years of different races, in different towns, and that fascinates me.
I don't eat the correct things and work out the intake or output, I just go with what I now know, and what I like. There is probably many things that could be corrected, but the 'effort' puts me off- see, I told you 'lazy'!
I enjoy being out on the road, surrounded by people and this awesome country and I feel totally safe on the road, apart from woman drivers who seem to drive far too close to me, but that only happens when I'm running alone!
I enjoy reading about running, but again it's the stories I'm after, the different type of shoe doesn't keep my interest for very long, unless it's those weblike shoe gloves, that look like barefeet, those still intrigue me!

So now my bags are packed, got my Durban warm clothes, where it will be warmer than Jozi, and am almost ready to board that plane. Roughly 10 hours are in the way between me and the start of my weekend away. The excitement has my head playing mini-samples of music all day, and I sing them so hubby can be a doll and pretend he recognises them. I can't seem to sit still for very long, and there is nothing on tv! Even my internet game isn't keeping my interest. The bubble of excitement is twitching in my limbs, and I will have to take a bath, and read something really boring later to slow my body down.

I am looking forward to meeting my fellow 'comrades' some known, and others to be known. I can't wait to hear new stories, and am so looking forward to receiveing the love from the spectators that festively line the roads of Natal, cheering us on. I am excited at the prospect of doing a better time, and feeling clear-headed, and that feeling when we near the stadium, and I hear the PA guy trying his best to sound excited after 7 hours of duty. I want to shout at the cameramen who are usually sitting behind their cameras, not filming us, because we are too slow for the TV interest, but not slow enough for the heart-wrenching tears at the final 12 hour gun. I want to smile and 'whoop' as we enter the stadium, and hear the people applaud us even if they are still anxious as they wait for their own loved ones to enter the stadium.
Why would anyone not want to run this race? It is an experience that lives on forever, and no matter how long I rant, it is still undescribable.
Bring it on!

It is almost 2 weeks till Comrades. That means 14 days till I run 89. something kms. So today I went out with my friends from my club for a 10km run. The first thing that surprised was the overnight drop in temperature. It has been a while that it has been 'dry' cold, we have had lots of mist, and rain, uncharacteristic for this time of year, usually we just have sun and frost. So we stood clustered together waiting for the 7am start, and dressed warmly.
Out on the street, the wind dropped, and I was instantly hot. This could have been because I haven't been running much, so it may have been my body shock,  but then  I saw someone else take off the outer layer of clothes. Good, so it's not just me!
We had a different 10km route, and the one hour later start in winter means that the roads are already busy, so we have to keep our wits about. On the main road a truck went past and actually blew my hat off. This has never happened to me, I used to think it was because I had an odd shaped head, so hats would stay on, but this one didn't. Maybe all this running is making me lose weight.... on my skull!
We chatted about this and that, and the fact that the Comrades countdown as well as the countdown for the World Cup football is all a day early. The FIFA site has it right, but all other websites and media are a day ahead. Then we heard about mist playing havoc with airporsts and flights, and talked once again about training, and recent races. This all happens while running. I never thought I would get to the stage where I could hold and maintain a conversation while running. My first year of running consisted of head nods, and grimaces while I listened to the chatter and banter of the fit ones, and had all the fantastic retorts, but no energy to say them! Now I have the energy, but the conversations have changed!
Who would've thought that I could own that quality? Not the lack of retorts, but the fit one. I am pleased with myself for not giving up when I didnt get my first Comrades medal, because I was too slow, and I am pleased that I went back again last year and did it! I am pleased that I stuck to our training plan (even loosely!) and I am about to go down again. It is a real blessing that I have the health, the ability, and the excitement to go an experience the 'ultimate human race'.
I am great-full!