I’ve always loved that song by Semisonic, even more so when I found out that it was actually about the singer’s newborn child and he wrote it that way to avoid the usual sappy songs about kids. Genius.
I screwed up, I made a mistake, I did something really wrong. I made the most epic of monumental fuck ups but even I couldn’t predict the knock on effects that would occur from my mistake. This process has been a massive reality check for me, and has had me questioning my very core belief system of what I thought I knew and trusted about myself and my life, and revealed my unhealthy levels of co-dependencies on so many things and levels. Have you ever made a decision that you thought was the right one, only to see it start to unfold and think well fuck that’s not how it was supposed to go down? Kind of like you see a small section of quick sand and think to yourself “I should probably go around it but surely I can just run across as it’s not that wide”. So you head across, confident in your decision and then half way across you feel the first tugs of the sand on your feet. You’re still confident that you’ll get across, after all how harmless could quick sand really be? Then suddenly you can’t see your feet anymore and you’re thinking shit what happened there? Then your knees are covered and you start to panic. How are you going to get out, why did I think I could run across it, I would sell my left arm AND my left leg if someone could turn back time and I could make the right decision instead. Then slowly you admit defeat and resign yourself to certain death and hope it comes as quick and painless as possible. Somehow, you manage to escape, maybe there’s a trapdoor underneath, and you’re finally free. But now you’re scared of all beaches because there’s sand there… dammit, I think I’ve lost the analogy. If I could go back in time and correct my mistake, I would do so a thousand times. Nothing in this world would make me happier right now. But until time travel is really a thing, that’s not an option. And so I need to work at forgiving myself and try to move on, accepting my new reality. I’ve always been a big believer in that everything happens for a reason, and throughout my life there have been times where that belief has been severely tested. When somebody dies, you question why the hell did that happen? What higher purpose would exist to remove them from your life??? I was 16 when my sister passed away and I was ready to kill the world and anyone who even looked at me the wrong way as I was trying to process how she could die. Slowly but surely though, I discovered the answers for me when my heart was ready to hear it. Each person is different and to each their own, but as hard as it is right now, I still stand by that belief and trust that the answers will be there for me when my heart is ready to hear it. Tough conversations are ahead, with my coach, with my husband, with my heart. I guess I better add my psychologist to that list too lol
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I haven’t written anything for awhile, for a number of reasons really. I’ve still been posting pictures and sharing links, but nothing really deeply personal or from within. We’ve had a lot going on with miss Ruby that we’re still trying to work through, and that’s been occupying a large piece of real estate in my brain – as I mentioned before, it’s hard to function normally when the heart that walks outside your chest is hurt. With the rest of my brain, I have basically been sitting in a holding pattern, waiting for things to go wrong with my training.
Each time someone asks me “how’s your training going?” I immediately respond with “touch wood, but so far so good”. I feel like if I say anything really positive, I may anger the injury gods and be struck down with something else. I don’t want to jinx myself by saying this is the longest I have been without an injury (even typing that sentence I started to get heart palpitations WTF). I feel like I am missing out on the joys of the moment by not celebrating that my training is going great guns – I am in form, I am hitting all my goals, I am following my training plan to a T. I should be happy and ecstatic, instead I feel nervous and a sense of foreboding. God how depressing lol I met with my psychologist today and she asked me how I was feeling. “Exhausted” I replied, stifling a yawn. As we started to unpack what was happening in my life right now she replied “I’m not surprised!” I started to explain how I was feeling about my training and this sense that I couldn’t shake that I was just waiting for something to go wrong. She told me it is exhausting to constantly live in the future instead of the here and now (hmmmm, this sounds familiar?!?). She explained that it was my imagination that was projecting that future unknown image and causing the fear and anxiety to grow. She likened it to watching a horror movie – even if you know what is going to happen and you can anticipate the next move, you still jump when the killer jumps out on the screen don’t you? Although that is someone else’s imagination that has put together that picture, your body still has a physical reaction. And that’s what’s going on with me at the moment. My mind and imagination have generated a future image that looks and feels so real, partly because it’s based on past experiences, that my body is having an emotional reaction to this imagination and creating these feelings. Which is doing wonders for my anxiety by the way! Have I mentioned before how much I love my psych??? I always come away from a session with her feeling much more relaxed and grounded and feeling like I am able to step back into the world again. So, next time someone asks me how’s my training going, I will (try to) answer honestly and excitedly, by celebrating where I am right now. In this moment here, not in my fantasy future where any number of things could go wrong :) P.S 74 sleeps until UTA100 woohoo! Wait, is that living in the future also to be counting down from so far out? Damn, must remember to ask her in our next session lol Earlier this week I met with my physio Dave to work out my new training plan for UTA100 and my goals for the rest of the week. It was actually a novel experience developing a plan whilst injury-free. We’ve been working together since 2014 and I’m pretty sure this would be the first time… I don’t know what that says about me and/or my body lol I kind of feel like I shouldn’t tell people who trains me, as I’m not really the poster child of a successful plan (disclaimer: Dave’s plans and training is awesome. It’s not him, it’s me. It’s definitely me!).
Over the last few years, I have built up quite an arsenal of what NOT to do when it comes to training and racing. It seems as though I may be a bit of a slow learner in this regard, as there have been a number of repeated mistakes and errors along the way. My previous plans have contained modifications, and then when things continued to go south, we modified those modifications. He is a very patient man to continue to put up with me and help me the best way he can despite me insisting to continue with my race goals. I have learnt how not to fuel myself on long runs; how not to continue to run when I am injured; how not to ignore certain pains and niggles as they almost always turn into something else more serious and long term; how not to run out too hard in a race or not run to conditions; how not to compare myself to other people and their progress; how not to forsake other training in order to fit in more running; how not to come back too much too soon; and I think I have finally learnt to listen to my body and when to stop. See, a very big list of what NOT to do. At the beginning of 2015, I was in great shape and had just started getting back into running and enjoying longer distances. I had been going to bootcamp 3 times a week and running a few times a week also. Then my husband got a job further away from home, which meant he had to leave earlier in the morning and could no longer do kindy drop off. I was forced to stop attending my bootcamp sessions and instead picked up more running instead, thinking that since I was training for my first marathon this made sense to run more. Little did I know the damage and drama that decision would cause. I lost so much core strength, to the point I could no longer do a single sit up. I started to develop niggles and injuries all over my body, one after another. In hindsight, most of them were a result of no longer having core strength. In addition, Dave did an assessment on my current running technique and lets just say, if it were an exam I would have failed. I was given a lot of homework to do in order to try and change my technique, but the ongoing injuries got in the way as I was too busy focusing on just trying to keep my dream of a full marathon alive. I did finish that marathon, but it wasn’t pretty and I certainly wouldn’t recommend running it in the state I was in. Fast forward a few months and I fronted up to my first Coastal High 50, having not been able to run AT ALL for the last 8 weeks to try and rest some of those injuries, and having never really run on trails before. Again I finished, but again I would definitely not recommend that approach to anyone. As I have said before, CH50 2015 was the single hardest thing I’ve done in my life, including childbirth. After that I took a few months off to recover, and then started to come back slowly into the world of running and commenced doing some leg strength training as advised by Dave. This coincided with Nath being on 6wks school holidays and so I made the most of not having to do kindy drop off and started running most mornings. Yep, you guessed it, bam another injury. This time, an overuse injury. During this time was also my disastrous attempt to transition to zero drop trail shoes. Epic fail, which resulted in being the route cause of my knee pain that I battled on and off during 2016. I also started my blog at this time, so I could whinge publicly about my injuries (well that's what it seemed like at the time lol). When things first started playing up with my knee I was forced to reassess my running goals for 2016. I withdrew from a number of smaller races and decided to just focus on Coastal High 50 and Blackall 100 instead. As my knee started to settle down, I met with Dave again to have a refresher on my technique and we were both horrified to see it was as bad as it was the year before. What the f%$# happened?!? Turns out that modifying things to accommodate injuries means that I was too busy focusing on just trying to keep going that I forgot all about technique. Back to square one. A few weeks out from Coastal and I made a stupid rash decision at a smaller race and paid the price dearly for it by aggravating my knee badly. I ended up only being able to run about 6km of the 50km distance at Coastal, also not recommended. My stubbornness got the better of me here, instead of withdrawing from the race like a more sane person would, and again at Blackall where I attempted to complete 100km by just hiking as any running was currently impossible (DO NOT DO THIS. EVER. SERIOUSLY. BAD IDEA!!!) I took another few months off to recover, again. Felt eerily like de ja vu. But I was finally able to piece together all I have learnt over the last few years and put it into practice. I continued strength training and cross training; I came back slowly and didn’t push myself; I didn’t beat myself up if I had a crap run and was fine with pulling the pin early if I didn’t feel like it; I continued with my nutrition plan to make sure I was fuelling myself correctly; and I continued writing my blog to help my mental health. That’s not to say that things are perfect now and I will never make another mistake. I wish I could say this means that I will now remain injury free for the rest of my life, but we both know that’s probably not likely. When you push your body to the extremes of trying to complete ultra marathons, you’re bound to experience different and new injuries. But with all this knowledge of what not to do, hopefully I can minimise the potential of repeating previous mistakes. Which brings me back to my meeting with Dave this week. I said to him that I have another goal this year, and that is to run Coastal High uninjured. He looked at me incredulously. I explained I have run it twice now whilst injured, and as this is my training ground and some of my favourite trails, I want to see what it’s like to run it at my full potential and have no qualms at pulling out this year if I am injured when the race rolls around. He looked at me with wide eyes and a grin and said “you know I’m going to put that in writing on your plan right??”. Good, it will help keep me accountable if the time comes and I start to suffer from a serious case of FOMO. It's good that he gets me :) See, I really do learn. Eventually lol I had a full-blown anxiety attack at work today and it took me by surprise, as I have not had one in a very long time. I mean, I am back into running again and loving it; I’m loving my training schedule, yes I didn’t achieve my goal for my shred challenge but I certainly achieved a lot; my recent exciting news of being selected as an ambassador for Run Like A Girl; and I’ve just had a week’s break from work so I was feeling more refreshed. All of this positive stuff and yet recently I suspected that I could feel my anxiety starting to build and bubble up under the surface. Running has always been my stress relief and my anxiety buster, so what the hell was going on?!?
Turns out when a piece of your heart is broken and hurting, your usual go-to’s for relief don’t work. Even when that little piece of your heart is the piece that walks around outside your body in the form of your child. Ruby was diagnosed with anxiety at 4 and it has been a long process to equip her with the tools she needs in order to cope and manage it. She has made amazing progress and is able to articulate her feelings and emotions better than any other 5 year old I know. But she’s right in the middle of a flare up and it took us a little while to realise. Just like mummy in so many ways. It’s actually a bit scary to think of how similar we are, and exhausting to think about too as I know how much I suffer with my anxiety and trying to cope, and it breaks my heart to know she’s struggling the same way. For the last few nights, seemingly out of nowhere, she has developed an increased fear of going to sleep. She will give you a myriad of reasons why – it’s scary when it’s dark, she doesn’t like sleeping alone, she’s not tired, she doesn’t like the noises, it’s not fair that mummy and daddy get to snuggle someone, she doesn’t want to go to sleep, she can’t go to sleep and on and on. She builds herself up into a level of hysteria that only sheer exhaustion seems to finally break her and she falls asleep, way past her normal bedtime. And will often wake in the middle of the night to come in and say that she’s still scared and so the process is repeated again. Which then extends to the next day where she wakes up tired and grumpy and the cycle perpetuates itself. We have tried soothing words, we have tried tough love, and we have tried lying with her. We are all exhausted and I’m sad to say have exhibited some not so fine parenting moments the last few days. I have spent hours googling child anxiety and researching different methods and approaches. I have received well meaning advice from many friends and family. I have been stuck in my head with the should ofs, could ofs, would ofs over the last few days about what I should have done differently, why I did what I did, what can I do different next time, what happens if it plays out this way instead, what about if she says XYZ instead of ABC. I am exhausted and struggling myself, and my heart is breaking to watch my daughter struggle in just the same way. I have written at length before about the mummy guilt I carry around over “breaking” my child from within the womb, and it seems that I can add anxiety to the long list of things I have extended to her. She inherited daddy’s looks, but inside she is mummy through and through, and that’s not necessarily a good thing. It all came to a head today at work. I had the sudden realisation as to why I was feeling the way I was and the hopelessness I was feeling over our current situation. By acknowledging it and verbalising it, it seemed to open the floodgates. I ended up in the park next door bawling my eyes out. This isn’t a sympathy post, I know I will be OK and I know that Ruby will be also. Its more so just getting things out on the page so that I can hope to start processing them and being able to move forward. It’s about reaching out and saying hey I’m struggling, and hopefully breaking down the stigma that continues to exist around mental illness. If you’re struggling, tell someone. You don’t have to do this on your own and you don’t have to be silent. The more we talk about things like anxiety and depression, the more support there will be. A world that supports everyone no matter what the illness or ailment, is a world I dream of and hope to be a part of one day. It’s a world that will hopefully be a little less scary and daunting for the next generation. I may try to fight against it from time to time and work hard at developing my identity outside of being “just” Ruby’s mum, but the truth of the matter is that she is my world and my heart, and while she is not OK, then I can’t be OK. That’s my #1 job. As some of you may know, after my DNF at Blackall 100 and all my injuries over the last year, I decided to set myself a new personal challenge and complete an 8 week shred plan. I’ve never been one to count calories or weigh myself frequently, and I’m much happier out on a run then in the gym, but when faced with the possibility of no running for the rest of the year, I knew that I needed something else to focus on and keep me motivated.
So I enlisted the help again of my nutritionist Therese from Food Fix 4 Life. Having worked with her previously for my training plan for Coastal High and Blackall, she already had my background information including medical history, dietary restrictions and personal goals. I set one specific goal for this shred challenge – I wanted to be able to visibly see a 6 pack, not just feel it under the layers. She developed a three-phase plan around my current training schedule, which is as follows:
Pre shred challenge weight – 60.2kg. In the weeks leading up to Blackall as I was unable to run, all my training sessions were walks/hikes. Unfortunately I was still following my nutrition plan built for running, so my output wasn’t as high as my input (I would fuel on long runs with ½ sandwiches of GF DF bread with honey) and so the layer of jiggle had increased. I didn’t and don’t base my progress solely on the number on the scales, as I know muscle weighs more than fat which was what I was hoping to develop, so I also based my progress on how my clothes felt and fit, and the weights I was lifting. So without further adieu, here is a brief weekly recap of how my shred challenge went…. Week 1 Weight 60.2kg. 0kg change WTF! How the f*%$ is that even possible?!? Message Therese who asks how do I feel. Cranky and obsessed with food. The last few days I felt like I was starving and thinking constantly about food, but am sure that’s mostly psychological as Phase 1 isn’t too much different from my previous plan. Had a function at the Turf Club where I only selected things that would have been on my plan, and had 2x vodka, fresh lime and sodas. Agree to see what happens next week. Week 2 Weight 59.3kg. Still disappointed, less than 1kg in 2 whole weeks. Period also came this week which I’m hoping contributed to the small change. Stomach actually feels bigger and jigglier if that’s possible??? Complain to Therese, who agrees to give me Phase 2 now. She explains that as I’m doing a lot of training she’s had to add some carbs back in to Phase 2 as usually she would expect more results in Phase 1. Gah, stupid body! Ask if there’s any “better” vegies I should be eating to help this progress along, go and stock up on broccoli, asparagus, celery, red capsicum and carrot like it’s going out of fashion. Week 3 Weight 58.8kg. Not seeing any physical changes yet but feeling stronger and lifting heavier weights so hoping I’m building muscles. Still have a thick layer of jiggle over my stomach and nervous that I’m not going to get my goal in only 5wks. Therese is happy as that’s half a kilo and asks how I feel and if I have been hungry. This week was the first week of Phase 2 which means no snacks on low days. Sunday I can handle as I’m kept busy during the day. Wednesday is a low day, and no snacks at work makes for a very hungry and cranky Rhiannon! Week 4 Weight 59.2kg before I went to the loo, 58.6kg after a long run and loo break so let’s use 58.6kg. 200g change boo. 4wks in, so half way and still not feeling any major changes. Weights are getting a bit heavier but not seeing or feeling physical changes. Had a Xmas party dinner and tried to pick the best options available, but ate a bit too much (was delicious though!). Whinge to Therese again (think she must be sick of me!). She agrees that it’s very unusual not to be getting results by now. FFS stupid body! Send half way progress photos to her and she writes back incredibly “really??? There are changes!!!” Must just be me then that can’t see them, or being too critical lol Week 5 Weight 58.7kg. Increase of 100g, but my period decided to surprise me a week early. FML. Had another xmas party where I managed to resist most of the snacks and picked the healthiest options again, ate more than the 100g of meat I was supposed to though. Message Therese (again!) asking when do I start Phase 3, she replies not yet. Damn lol Week 6 Weight 57.5kg. Feeling much happier about my progress now that I can start to see and feel some changes. Ask Therese when I should start Phase 3, she writes back that Phase 3 is only for 1 week so another week of Phase 2. The meals are all fine, just starting to get bored and trying to kick start my body to developing the missing 6 pack in the next 2 weeks. Week 7 Weight 56.9kg before my run, 56.0kg after my run. Therese asks if I can see changes yet and I can definitely see changes and am feeling great, but the layer is still there and can’t see any 6 pack yet. She sends through Phase 3. I have a Xmas party that day and night, and whilst trying to be sensible, over indulge a bit. Out of curiosity, I weigh myself the next morning just for shits and giggles and am horrified to see my weight increased by 1.6kg from just the last 24hrs. F*ck. Week 8 – Phase 3 and final week. Finishing weight 56.4kg. During the week I found I had bugger all energy, and wanted to kill everyone. I was eating 12 egg whites per DAY, and lots of green veg and red capsicum, and 100g meat at night with veg. That’s it. Given the time of year, I missed a lot of my night time training sessions for xmas activities, so that meant I dropped my snacks too. I now see why people only do Phase 3 for one week at a time, it was brutal! I tried to re-introduce decaf long blacks back in to assist with the progress (they were on the plan originally but tasted like crap) – still taste like crap. Kill me now. So overall, I didn’t get my #1 goal of a 6 pack. I was pretty gutted to begin with as that was all I had wanted out of this challenge. However, after allowing myself to feel that disappointment, I put that aside and focused on what I did achieve. My body shape has changed considerably, I am lifting much heavier weights, and I am back out there running again with (touch wood!) no niggles at all. My clothes fit better, and for the first time in a long time, I am happy with my appearance in the mirror. I still feel I am a work in progress as I do want to one day achieve that 6 pack goal, but I have also learnt a lot about myself and my body. I remember Therese saying early on in my original training plan that you couldn’t shred weight and train for ultras at the same time, as the plans would be different and that was obvious with this shred challenge. Therese suggested that next time I try a shred challenge, to try reducing my cardio and up my weight sessions instead. She herself doesn’t start to get really great results until she does that, as whilst doing cardio to burn fat you’re also burning some muscle. To get the sculpted look I was hoping for, it’s weights weights weights. So, overall I would say: Effort – A-, as I did have those few functions that I didn’t follow the plan 100%, but even those I tried to make the best choices available. Friends were amazed that I was as dedicated as I was. When I set my mind to something, I have to give it everything I can otherwise I am disappointed. Results – B. I dropped 3.8kg which I’ll be honest, I expected more. However, I feel I have bigger muscles and can lift heavier weights, so they kind of balance each other out. I didn’t get the 6 pack I wanted, but the changes I did get are pretty cool. Where to from here? I over indulged Xmas Day (and paid for it!) and will have a few days off of the regimented plan, and then I will follow a hybrid version of Phase 2. I found that to be quite easy and I liked the meals, but I did miss eating the same dinner as my family from time to time, and learning to not freak out if someone invites me out for a coffee as it’s “not on the plan”. A massive thank you to Therese for writing my plans and putting up with my constant messages, and thank you to everyone for your encouragement over the last 8 weeks. Sorry to those who I was a bitch to in Week 8, it wasn’t me it was the egg whites! Depression is such a horrible thing. It drags you down further and further, making it harder to see the light that leads you back out. Everyone around you seems to be fine and dandy, and that just makes you feel worse. Suddenly you’re questioning your very self-worth and comparing yourself to others. Even happy positive moments are tinged with negative thoughts and their brightness is diminished. Combine that with someone who finds relief in exercise and running, and is currently unable to do either, and it can lead to a recipe for disaster.
I’ve written publicly about my personal emotional struggles this year, from my ongoing recurring injuries to dealing with the slow decline of my mum to early onset dementia. I’m not ashamed to say that there were some pretty dark months, with the black dog not only nipping at my heels but gnawing big chunks out of them. I tried other methods to help me through when I was unable to run but nothing was (or is, for me) as effective of just being able to get out there and move freely. Perhaps it’s the sensation of running away, albeit for a brief period, and escaping the endless thoughts plaguing my mind. Maybe it’s the pain I feel afterwards when I’ve pushed myself hard, that enables me to feel and focus on something other than the turmoil in my mind. This weekend just gone, I went for my first successfully pain free trail run in months. I ran with a beautiful friend, on her favourite trail which I had never experienced before, and it was glorious. Sure, I’m not run fit and there was indeed a lot of walking up hills, and my legs were screaming at some points. But even that pain was enjoyable on some level, as it was pain I had indeed missed from my life. I actually shed tears twice on that run, just from the sheer beauty of my surroundings and the realisation that I was back out there, pain free and happy. I’ve missed that trail happiness oh so much, and there were times when I wasn’t entirely sure that I would ever get that happiness back again. But right now I have a few friends who are fighting their own personal battles with depression and it hurts my heart. I don’t know how to reach them and I feel helpless. I want to wrap them up in a massive hug and never let go, so they know that they’re not alone and that they have so many people around them that love them unconditionally. I would do anything I could in my power to take their pain and sadness away. But as much as I want to help them, I know that pain and that struggle only too well. I know that no one could help me by taking it away, I needed to do it myself. But as much as it felt like I pushed everyone away, those that matter most to me were there, patiently waiting until I was ready to let them back in, reminding me that they were there but giving me the space I needed at the same time. I am eternally grateful for those people in my life, and if I can be half as good a friend to my beautiful friends that are struggling that they are to me, then life will be ok. So to my amazing special courageous friends, I am here. Waiting patiently for when you need me. You are always in my thoughts and please know that if I could I would take it all away in a heartbeat. But I can’t and you and I both know that. But when you are ready, I will be there. If it means 3am in the morning and you need some ice cream, I will be there. Or 11pm at night and you need someone to yell at in order to release your frustrations, I will be there. Or you need someone to cheer you up, I can try to be funny but more importantly, I will be there. I love you for all that you are and all that you do and all that you can do, and that will never stop. Now that we’re at the pointy end of the lead up to Blackall 100, I’ve had some time to focus on my emotional health and how I am feeling on this journey. So far I have been strangely relaxed and calm, given that I am about to undertake a 100km race. I am not usually one to be so calm and relaxed, and it has me and others who know me a bit perplexed lol
I think taking my knee out of the equation has certainly helped. Leading up to Coastal last month, it was always in the back of my mind that it would start to play up and turns out those fears were right. But the fact that I am hiking and not running at all, means that is one less thing I have to worry about. Prior to making the decision to hike Blackall, I had been toying with the idea of getting a tattoo to commemorate my first 50 and 100 ultras. However, once I realised I wouldn’t be running any of the race I didn’t feel comfortable claiming it as an ultra. When I met with my psych recently, she asked me why I didn’t think it was an ultra. “Because I’m not running” I said. “But why is running the only thing that defines it as an ultra? Are you still doing the distance? Have you still trained for the event?’ She explained to me the concept of “gaps” or “gains” – do you focus on the gap between the picture in your mind of how you think something should be vs the actual situation, or do you acknowledge and celebrate the gains or the wins despite the outcome? When I think about it, I am very much a “gaps” person in my life, constantly focusing on the difference and berating myself for things not going to plan. I don’t seem to allow myself to enjoy any happiness in my achievements. I am a very determined and goal orientated person, I need to have something to work towards otherwise I feel a bit lost. When things get tough, I dig my heels in further and will keep fighting to the death. This determination and stubbornness has got me through many difficult times in my life and has become a bit of a survival mechanism for me. My psych explained that these are not bad traits to have by any means, but that they need to be harnessed a bit to avoid burnout (or potential serious injury etc). If I am constantly focusing on the end goal, it starts to build it up even bigger. Then if I don’t achieve it how I expected the outcome “should” be, then the let down and disappointment can be overwhelming. Not to mention, by focusing solely on the goal, I ignore the journey and the build-up, and everything great that comes along with that. Which got me thinking. I’ve never been comfortable claiming that I have completed 2x 50km ultra marathons, as they didn’t go as planned and there was far less running involved than what I imagined qualified someone as completing an ultra. However, despite everything I went through during those races – injuries, emotions, pain, hallucinations! – I went on to finish. A very small percentage of the population will attempt an ultra-marathon in their lifetime, and an even smaller percentage will complete one. I’ve completed two. Sure, they weren’t pretty and they didn’t match the picture in my head as to how I thought they “should” have gone. But I still trained for them, I used up a lot of blood, sweat and tears to complete them, and I received a medal and shirt at the end so they’re for real legit! When I started working with my nutritionist in June and set my goals, they were to a) fuel correctly for my long races so that I wouldn’t bomb out and b) as a second goal, some weight loss would be nice. When I did my first progress photos after 6 weeks, to be honest I was gutted. I could barely see any changes in my physical form, and felt cheated after all the hard work and dedication I had put in. I messaged my nutritionist and we had a chat. She reminded me that my first goal was fuelling for an ultra, and that the plan she gave me reflected that. A plan for weight loss would look completely different and I probably wouldn’t have the energy to run 5km! So I had to change the picture in my mind. When the next round of progress photos were taken, it took me less time to identify the physical changes but also to celebrate the other changes that have occurred – I am much stronger in my legs now especially going uphill, my posture is completely different, I have a lot more energy and the little sleep I do get is more refreshing. Suddenly, I was focussing on the gains and not the gap. I realised that’s why I am feeling more calm and relaxed leading up to Blackall, as the goal at the end has shifted dramatically and I fell less pressure to perform to a certain level. My goal now is just to finish within cut off. Instead, I am really enjoying each of my training sessions, embracing the new experiences I am having through the training, and sharing the lead up experiences with some very special people. I am under no illusions that my body will hurt, 100km on your feet is tough no matter if you’re an elite or an amateur! And even if the worst happens and I DNF, there is so much to celebrate in the gains of getting there and even attempting to hike 100km. Of course, the determined side of me is already saying that won’t happen lol Guess I better go start designing that tattoo after all… 10 sleeps, things are about to get real! This weekend I was lucky enough to be able to volunteer at the inaugural Nerang 100 Miler and the experience was both humbling and harrowing. The race was held in the Nerang State Forest, and consisted of 25km out and back loops on rough rocky fire trail. It’s a particularly tough track in the daylight, when you now the track and can see where you’re going, but at night it can be (and was) brutal. There were runners doing 100 miles, 100km, 50 miles, 50km and 25km.
I formed part of a rotating roster of people who were covering the only manned checkpoint at the start/finish line, where all the runners needed to come back to at the end of each loop to cross the timing belt before refuelling and heading back out. My initial shift was 5.30am-10pm, and then I came back at 7.30pm so I could do a bit of night hike training before starting to volunteer again at 10pm and the plan was to finish at 2am. But like everything else, nothing goes to plan. I witnessed acts of bravery as well as acts bordering on stupidity, but decisions that as a fellow ultra runner, I totally understood and would have likely made them myself. Watching these battle weary people trickle in overnight, bruised and battered and looking like death on legs, rushing to help them re-fill packs, offering food, warmth, comfort, before they slowly picked themselves back up, put themselves back together and painfully but determinedly headed back out for another dark and lonely loop. I wondered about many of them and whether they would indeed finish what they set out to do. Of the initial starting list, only 9 runners actually crossed that start line yesterday morning. What started out as a fresh cool morning quickly rose to super hot temps, averaging 29 degrees out the back of the course. Many runners were reporting nausea and sickness, especially as darkness fell and the temp dropped by 15 degrees within 30 minutes. Over the course of the night, I hiked alongside a mate who hadn’t been able to keep any fluids down since 50km and yet valiantly made it through to 80km (half way for the 100 miler) before making the decision to stop. His determination to try and keep going despite how crap he felt in his guts was crazy but admirable, however I am most impressed with his ultimate decision to put his health first and not continue. I was extremely happy to be there when another friend came in on her 3rd lap of 100km, teary and emotional, vowing that she was done and couldn’t continue. She explained she had been falling asleep out there and was sore from falling over earlier, and telling me to don’t bother talking her out of it but she was done. I encouraged her to sit down, have some food, and rest a bit before making any rash decisions. I explained to her that she had 12 hours to complete her last lap, which she could walk it and still finish. Hell, she could have a nap and then walk it and still finish within cut off. Her final lap would coincide with sunrise, which is beautiful out the back of those hills. After awhile, she picked herself up, put herself back together again and headed back out, and went on to finish in 2nd place female. I am so proud of her determination and commitment to get back out there and finish what she started. Earlier on in my night shift, one of the 100km runners needed to be picked up from the course in the emergency ute, as they were unable to continue due to continuously vomiting. However, we then got word that the front-runner for the 100 miler was also in a bad way out on course and needed to be picked up. By the time he got back to the checkpoint, I watched his body start physically shutting down. He had been unable to keep anything down for almost 6 hours, and when he last vomited it had been a black tar like substance. We got him into some warmth and tried to get layers of clothes on him, yet he was still shaking uncontrollably and his face started to get pins and needles. Thankfully through all that, he agreed that the best place for him was to head to hospital for some much-needed IV fluids. He was diagnosed with Rhabdomyolysis or rhabdo – the breakdown of muscle fibres due to severe dehydration. His CK levels in his blood were 5000; they should have been 50-150. Scary stuff. Thankfully he was on the mend pretty quickly and able to be discharged, but it’s a reminder of just what we put ourselves and our bodies through in order to become ultra runners, and even elite runners with heaps of experience aren’t immune to stuff going wrong. I made it home just before 5am, and got about 2hrs sleep before miss Ruby Pink Cat woke up and it was all over lol So we headed back about 9.30am just to see how everyone was travelling, and my amazing friend who was the Race Director was still soldiering on after 30 hours. What a trooper and an amazing job she did!! All of this and only 3 weeks out from Blackall 100, and my first attempt at hiking 100km. Prior to last night, I had set myself a pretty ambitious goal of finishing sub 20 hours. I know how fast I can hike and how strong I am on my legs and it seemed lofty but attainable. However after last night, all bets are off. I am how shitting myself about even finishing at all, let alone within the cut off of 28 hours. This will be a track I have no knowledge off, and on a large loop, not smaller out and backs, so once I’m out there I need to battle to the next aid station and hope a) my crew are there and b) I can physically keep going to the next one. But if last night has taught me anything, it’s that we are capable of achieving so much. So many times over the weekend I was reminded of one of my favourite quotes – when your legs can’t run anymore, run with your heart. Swap run for hike and this will be my mantra in just 20 sleeps! Oh, and in case you’re wondering. Of the 9 initial starters for the 100 miler, only 3 finished, and only 7 of the initial 11 runners in the 100km finished. Champions!!!!! You all owned that brutal course, and should all be so proud of yourselves. Is it human nature or more of a female thing, or is it just me that struggles to accept a compliment? You know, when someone says "hey great dress!" and you're all "oh this thing? oh yeah it's just something old I had in the cupboard, you know nothing really special, I don't even know why I put it on today, and um oh wow look over there!"....? Please don't tell me it's just me >.< Lately, I've been having issues with people complimenting me on my physical progress and current journey that I'm on to complete Blackall 100 by just hiking. Yeah yeah, I know, tough life people complimenting you lol but I find it so hard that the moment someone pays me a compliment, I instantly try to diminish it and downplay whatever achievement it is that they're talking about. I'm either second guessing about what their true motive is for saying something (which sounds way more paranoid then what I mean it to sound - it's my good old friend Anxiety coming to town, why would someone be paying me a compliment??) or deeply embarrassed that someone has said something nice and genuine to me. I mean, without tooting my own horn, I have been smashing myself the last 6 months and am finally noticing the benefits, both in physical appearance and strength out on the trails. However, the first words out of my mouth when someone says "wow you look great! have you lost weight?" are something "oh really? um I'm not sure, yeah maybe I guess so...". Which is a) a lie, and b) undoes all my hard work and determination. I'll never be the person that responds with "f*** yeah I know I look hot as!" but a little bit of self confidence and backing would't go astray once in awhile. Just yesterday, I met up with some running mums for coffee after our morning session and one of them commented on how my body had changed since the last time they saw me and how she was impressed with what she sees me do in my #trxbosu challenge posts. I instantly wanted to downplay her comments, but against every fibre in my body, I took a deep breath and said "thank you". It doesn't sound like much, and I hope I didn't come across as rude, but it was a big step for me. A few of us got to talking about my current nutrition plan and my training plan, as well as the crazy ride I have been on to get to this point, and I instantly felt more relaxed as I was able to slightly deflect the attention from me to tangible objects. I find it much easier and less stressful talking about other people's work and achievements above my own lol As part of that discussion, someone asked how long I had been running for and when I went and looked back, I realised that April 2014 was the turning point and it's been a whirlwind experience since then. I've said it before, but I both credit and blame Running Mums Australia for setting me on this current path. Such an amazing, inspirational, influential group I have ever come across in such large scale numbers. I could barely run 10km and then would read posts about someone achieving their first half marathon after never running before and I thought "damn if they could do that, then maybe I could too??", then the same thing happened to motivate me to run a full marathon, and then one of my beautiful crew besties was the one that introduced me to the world of ultra trails. And once you've done 50km, how much further could 100km be right?? Right???? Oh god, please tell me I'm right and it's not much further! Anyway, I'm not really sure what the point of this post was, or where it was going. I kind of got distracted half way through with booking accommodation for UTA2017. Which is obviously what I should be doing when I'm currently unable to run AT ALL, book accommodation for another 100km ultra. Well played my #4220+6 crew, well played!!! My crew <3 #4220+6For those of you who have been reading my blog for awhile, you would know all about the ongoing knee battles I've had this year and how it flared up again last weekend during Coastal High 50. To say that I'm frustrated is a big understatement. It's maddening to continue to battle this inflammation, as it stops me from doing what I love. Which is running. The freedom of running; the endorphins that are released; the beautiful scenery out on the trails; the fabulous company or even the blissful alone time. I love it all and am addicted, and like any good junkie, I'm hanging for my next fix!
So 2 days after Coastal High, I went back to Dave my physio for some treatment and a heart to heart. After sticking billions of needles into me (at least 8!) we got onto the subject of Blackall 100, which I am signed up to race on 22nd October. This year. Yes, in 6wks. 100km, when I am currently unable to run 1km. Good times. Dave asked me what I wanted to do. I laughed and said "what do you think?" to which he replied "I thought so!". He knows me so well lol Dave said that he thought I had 2 options: 1) try to let me knee rest and recover and then attempt to run Blackall. 2) pull out this year and try again next year. Now, never being one to walk away from a challenge, I posed a 3rd option - hike the whole 100km. "Interesting. I'm listening" said Dave. I explained how strong I felt out there during the race last weekend, especially on the uphills where I was easily passing people consistently even when hiking the hills, and received a lot of comments and compliments out there about my strength and pace whilst doing so. Until my muscles started to cramp and spasm, my knee never hurt from hiking and if it wasn't for the obvious pain in the knee, I had felt strong enough to have kept going when I finished. When I looked at my splits in Strava, they were pretty consistent and close to what I would have done had I been able to run more anyway. Dave thought about it and then told me that he thought that would actually be a really good alternative. By taking the pressure of trying to run on my knee (and the inevitable disappointment that would come when it started hurting again) out of the equation, I could actually use the opportunity to practice and experience the other components that form part of a 100km ultra. Learning to continue on through exhaustion and going overnight when all my body will want to do is sleep. Practising different forms of nutrition and learning to listen to my body about what it needs/wants. As he said, what you have at 10hrs will be completely different at 18hrs. I will also need to toughen up my feet and learn to strap them to help prevent blisters, as I only get blisters when I hike for long distances (but not running, 'cause I'm weird like that lol). He told me about when he first started to do ultras, plenty of people around him would hike. And that 100km is 100km, no matter how long it takes. With such a generous cut off of 28hrs, I wouldn't have any pressures on me except those I placed on myself to finish. Then once I completed it and was able to experience some of what goes into a 100km, I would then take the rest of the year off to recover and then come back stronger again in 2017 to contest another 100km, this time hopefully running it. I quickly checked with my fabulous support crew that they were still happy to crew for me even if it meant being out there longer and they were, happy days. So, we have agreed on option 3. I will be 100% hiking the Blackall 100 in 41 sleeps. I am aiming roughly for 20-21hrs but as long as I finish within the cut off, on my own two feet, I will be so happy. Dave is developing a new hiking training program for me for the next 6wks and I will continue to incorporate my strength training and stretching into my training. They say it takes a special breed of crazy to run an ultra - I think I've just taken it up to a whole new level to want to hike the whole thing. That's fast walking people. I don't even like to DRIVE 100km, let alone hike it. Wait, what the hell am I thinking??? Why do I have to be so bloody stubborn dammit lol Hopefully I make it out the other side to tell you all about it, but either way it's going to be one hell of a day out! |
AuthorHi, I'm Rhiannon and welcome to my blog. I'm not an elite athlete and I may never win any races, but I'm a "real" runner, juggling work, family and life to achieve my running goals. Archives
October 2020
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REAL GIRL RUNNER | My Blog |