Proudly South African?

We were talking about not reading the news for a while. Just because being informed may not be good for the soul. I listen to 702, read the news, follow lots of journos on twitter and am usually pretty informed, but lately I think all this information is adding to my stress levels. Compounding what is, granted, a stressful time in my life in general. I don't know if "ignoring" the negative is the right thing to do, or is that just how we are going to survive? I am positive by nature, but hells bells the last few weeks things have really been rough. A large group of my neighbours in my suburb is linked via BBM, thus we have minute by minute community news - usually crime related. I have BBM group messages like "Four robberies in Sixpence street yesterday" or "Suspicious people walking the streets" all the time. I support any community based activities because we need to be communities to beat this, but I found that knowing about what is happening to my neighbours is scary and stressful and worrying beyond what I expected.
I am positive by nature, optimistic and maybe even idealistic. I have often been the odd one out in discussions about this country. I wonder though, if getting older eroded some of this in me or if somehow I missed a trick and "believing" got harder.
The ability to believe?  I want and choose to believe that people cannot be this bad to the core and that things will get better. But recently, I just started worrying. Worrying if the alarm is good enough or if the electric fence is up to scratch or if we should install more gates or maybe we should install cameras? I just don't feel safe, I feel insecure about the future. I don't like this feeling. Are things worse now or are we actually improving things and I am just experiencing a delayed reaction. Reports about corruption: Is that getting worse or are we just reporting more on it because it is newsworthy? How much of my tax money is actually being used to build this country? This country that I love so dearly.
As we sung the anthem on Saturday at Starlight Classics, images of our athletes from the O- and Paralympics were flashed on huge screens and we all commented about what a "feel good moment" it was. How "we needed something like that". After the weeks of Marikana and the miners striking, Julius, Mangaung, Limpopo etcetera etcetera, I wonder if we can somehow bring some pride and some "feel good" back in our lives, be true to our real natures.
 
I have told the story of my Great Wall Marathon run and what it meant to me. And one aspect that really struck home, because it reminds me that South Africans are special, have featured in a business presentation I gave a few months ago. I ran the Marathon in May 2012, one of the greatest adventures of my life. About 2000 athletes/runners/joggers started the various distances (about 1000 did the marathon = 42.2km). And for the rest of my life I will remember the race and how wonderful it was to be there, one of 27 South Africans! Not just another athlete, a South African. I can easily visualise how the athletes felt at the Olympics (as a South African). As I was running I met up with SA runners and we all greeted each other "Hello South Africa" having never met before. Every SA runner wore our flag in some way. From beanies to skirts to shirts to socks. I wore the flag on a specially made running top. What struck me was that more than half of the runners in the race were Americans, and I never spotted a single USA flag. It made me proud to be a South African, and I realised that I am not the only one with a Proudly South African spirit.
Truly, we have gotten something right in this country! Brand SA is in our hearts. Now all we have to do is live it. I am not sure if the negative stuff should be taken in in small doses? Or if we should focus on our own communities only and hope it will make a difference. But maybe it is just living day by day, focussing on the good stuff, like the spirit of our flag-bearing athletes in London. I don't know the answers but I am trying really hard to remind myself of the "good" when the "bad" seems to be everywhere.

Don't step on it...it makes you cry.

Today's blog is not for those of us with no fear of the scale. This is for all the girls who's scale is not their friend. My entire life weight loss has been an issue. I have - mostly - made peace with my "body type" and the constant battle with the weight gain, but I do some days just wish it wasn't so hard. I have always had to work hard to loose a few kilos and fight to get fit. Genetically I did not hit the jackpot in this regard. So, typical pattern is that during winter exercise decreases and weight increases. Sigh. It happens every year! One would think I would learn by now! I have been on a path of avoidance since June. I refuse to get on the scale. Not that my clothes don't tell the story - those unwanted winter fat rolls can't be ignored, but I just don't need to see those depressing numbers on the scale right now. Or so I tell myself. My theory works as follows: I need a focus or goal that is not weight related to enable me to work towards weight loss. If I focus to much on the weight, I start obsessing about food = leading to more food. If I focus on a running or exercise goal then food becomes less important. I sort of "reverse psychology" myself by visualising the fitness goal clearly and believing that the end result will be as desired: fitness and weight loss. This requires a bit of imagination and a lot pep talking myself.

So here's the plan: Get fit enough to run the Tough One in 3h30min end of November and then, I do the operation. Actually, just run the race. Move forward.

"My favourite day." said Pooh

I checked the definition of "fertility" and the first part of the definition was almost word for word what I would have written down if asked, namely "The ability to produce offspring". The second part however gave me a clue to the feeling I've been struggling to verbalise all this while: "Fertility - the power of reproduction". And therein lies the word I've been struggling for. All this time I've been feeling powerless! Not just sad or angry or grieving: powerless. We (the girl-children) are brainwashed about our power. Our power to choose. Our power as women in the new South Africa, our right to be equal...and yet a simple little word "infertile" can change one's self image dramatically.

This word's been hanging over my head for a longt iem. I thought I was "fine", maybe sad sometimes with a sense of loss, but hey I think that is an perfectly acceptable feeling. Once you start poking in the dark places though, unexpected nasty things stir and suddenly the issue of self worth stirrs the dark inners of one's soul. Powerless. Like a rolling blackout, lost even. I've spent quite a few sleepless nights trying to accept and prepare myself emotionally. I've researched the practical issues, chatted to a friend who had a hysterectomy and tried really hard to be brave about this. I drew the line at checking out the procedure on You Tube (a friend of mine did and I am sure I couldn't handle knowing the gory details of the actual operation). So hell, I am scared. Scared that I will be pathetic afterwards. Scared that I won't be the same person. Scared that somehow psychologically the "womb-lessness" will make me different.
So I am writing down scary thoughts, sorting through the issues and hopefully finding my equilibrium. I am - not so eloquently - sorting through my stuff because in the end a knife is going to cut something out of me - something I was born with. Something that changes the way you think about yourself - even if it shouldn't. 
It is a blend of being "fine", understanding the situation, accepting the issues, and yet being confused and scared all at once. Yesterday I was reminded of my first principle (via a friend's WhatsApp message): "...in this moment there is complete peace". It is true and it is truth. We cannot change the past. I can change how I feel about it, but it is what it is and yesterday and tomorrow does not exist.

"What day is it?" asked Pooh
"It's today." squeaked Piglet.
"My favourite day." said Pooh

Thanks to Annie and Pooh for reminding me.

China and life after the marathon

Dear Diary...
I made it. I ran a marathon and I made in good time (for that marathon) - 6 hours 23 minutes. And I was so proud, so happy. Even though that was May and this is August, maybe I should end this cycle, complete the circle and tell the story - at least some overview.
It was amazing. Tough as hell, beautiful and challenging, but amazing. I was ready and I did it. I have the medal, the poster photos and the t-shirt. I did it.
Strange, I meant to of course, write up the whole thing and how much it meant to me. After months of preparation and many interesting stories, it was almost surreal once I was done. Don't get me wrong, it was amazing. I don't think I can put into words how amazing it was. I am so glad to have seen, felt, touched and experienced the Great Wall. It is worthy of it's name. I did not find China - Beijing - in general awe inspiring...but the Wall took my breath away. Of all the things to see in life, I think this is one worthy of effort. But once I came back life took me on it's normal roller coaster ride and I never actually got around to writing my story. And when I started thinking about it, I realised the story changed. It is different now, maybe I am different now.
So I ran the marathon, a tough one, and came back home (really homesick) and winter hit and my running went from feast to famine. And I started missing having a goal. It does not help that I am still sans training partners (Toe-less-wonder and Falling-down-stairs are both still slowly coming back to the fold). So August is here (and it is snowing today) and I started attending my ritual of running again in the past week. I am back. And I have stuff to say, stuff to think about and a big life choices to make. Life after the marathon has begun... But before I turn the page, some of the visuals from my big adventure.

The poster child at the finish.

Never before was I so relieved to finish. So many starters did not make the official cut-off time. I took many pictures and fought many demons to get to this point. I loved it. I hated it. I loved it.

Beautiful views, breathtaking scenery...

So it was harder than just a normal marathon? Yes. Steeper than I expected? Yes.
Killer steps were hard, but the gradient that is what killed me, but hey it was way easier than I had anticipated.

There was one section that took me 30 minutes to climb a mere 1 km. It was just so steep. And after 35 km, it bites!

And in the end, I was also reminded how much I love SA and how proudly South African we are.

Ke nako

Sitting in the SAA Lounge at OR Tambo international airport, 30 minutes to boarding the flight to Beijing. Super cool to be typing on my iPad and blogging about my great adventure. This past weekand especially the days were tough. Lots of last minute issues and worst of all, picked up a head cold on Saturday. Dosing myself with lots of vitamins and paracetamol and hoping for a quick recovery. But here I am...after all the training, the highs, the lows, the fear and the anticipation, it is finally time. Ke nako.

Scarcited

Nine days to the big event. I just had a look at the website again and my toes started curling. The climbs look scary. Fear struck me. I am scarcited. Excited and scared all in one. Flight is on Monday the 15th at midnight and with that the long trek will begin. First the 14 hour flight to Beijing then the trip to the wall. I am happily planning to have iPad access and through all of this hope to be connected enough to post memories. Training has gone well, no injuries, no colds, no real issues with training on my own: everybody just helped where they could and here I am soon to be: "Bella the international marathon runner"

Training, training and some more training

The past two weeks have been great and super busy. Not only did the fitness really kick up, but I also found my times improving significantly. I've now started the last of the serious weeks and found mid-week training runs getting harder - mentally mostly - while running the races on the weekends keep me honest, it is kinda lonely to get up at 3:30am and trot of to some distant spot in Jozi. But, I ran my best ever 32km and matched my second best 21km in the last two weeks, keeping the motivation levels up when times are tough. Amazing how persistent training of 40-60 km a week can change one's fitness in merely 6 weeks. Hope for all. Most weeks I make up the distance with plenty 5-9 km runs in the week and one or two longer ones on the weekend. Hey I know plenty more running is possible, but I also have a job and a life to manage. Remarkably, my two training partners both "fell" due to obscure accidents and I have been stuck with resorting to dragging my injured partner out at night, him following me in the car, me running in front. As winter approaches the evening runs are harder, and it is not a great strategy to run after dark, on your own, in Joburg suburbs. But the night runs - with the entourage - have been a revelation to the soul. No stress and plesant beyond my expectations. So when the going gets tough, the tough gets the 4x4 to be my wingman!

Progress is so good.

I spoke to someone who's run 14 Comrades and 50 marathons and is obviously a real runner. A gentle, modest guy, not one of those people that make my little dream small because they have done so much.
I like to remember how hard the first 10km race was AND how amazing the accomplishment was for me. Running a marathon, and the Great Wall Marathon, is huge for me and what I am doing is running against the odds - for me. Easter weekend saw me run my longest training run yet 32km (as part of the Randburg Harrier's Easter 100). I felt amazing. In a mere 6 weeks I have run 267km. Suddenly I am contemplating running a marathon this Sunday and the mere thought is not frightening me silly. I need to decide and either do it or just run China. Sometimes it is just hard to know what the right thing is to do.

Toe the line

Toe-less (left) and Toulouse (right)

I ran my first Gauteng race this year! Jackie Gibson Half Marathon and it was nice. I finished in a much better time than I expected for this early in my training and with the extra kilos I am still carrying and were very grateful for the 2:16. The route had some tough hills, but also genuine downs that helped with time. I prefer hilly routes over flat ones any day. Hills make you work, focus and concentrate - flat races are boring and it is too easy to slow down. Interesting thing is that I ran the same race in 2010 and in identical time. The little photograph : On the left the Toe-less wonder's foot and on the right Toulouse the kitten. The same kitten that was being rescued from the tree when the accident happened - and really that was his name before the "incident". He is adorable and loving and is bonding big time with his dad.

In the meantime, March is nearing it's end and I have been at this for a month. Thus far I have completed 169 km, ran 2 races, adapted to a new training regime, booked my spot in the marathon, booked my ticket, and is busy applying for my visa. Not bad for March! 

Toes are important

When I started this blog about my little dream to run the Great Wall Marathon, I thought this process would be about how normal people (non-athletes like me) experience this process. I know the word athlete is a bit generic, but whatever it means to you... I am not one. I found though that as time marched on, that some of the blogging is me writing about coping with the training, while some of this is me just sharing, but a lot of this is me recording this path and in the process this has become a bit of a diary.

A week or so ago, I wrote about my favourite things, amongst those I mentioned, my training partners. This past weekend my training partner had an accident. On Saturday, in a freak accident at home, one of my precious partners lost his big toe and broke multiple bones (mostly toes) in his right foot.  Drama, hospital, doctors and some more drama. Now that the dust has settled, I reflect and suddenly felt lonely.

The first thoughts were to deal with the actual incident and get the medical stuff sorted. After all of that, I had to face the facts: How much I relied on the companionship and the co-motivation. And generally, having a guy run with you just makes you feel safer. This week, I am faced with taking care of an injured toe-less wonder and having to deal with a changed picture of how I am going to get to the 19th of May in good enough condition to run this thing. It's not impossible, but life can be so fickle. I know the loss of a toe is a bigger problem than my "loss of training partner" and there is no "but" really that can be said without feeling really crappy about saying it. Maybe there is only a "how". How do I adjust the training plan; how do I alter my training schedule to accommodate all of this, how do I not slip.

It is simple - less enjoyable, but simple.

I need to start using races as training for the longer runs (already entered a 21.1km on Sunday and ran the Run Jozi) - tick. To deal with the immediate problem of increasing the distances: I need to dust of the old iPod and start running those shorter runs on my own again.

No problems here (I hope).

So first stumbling block: my dog chewed my iPod this morning sigh :-) luckily only damaged was the headphones.

Inspiration

One of my biggest challenges when my exercise routine turns into "real" training, is that I constantly feel rushed and even overwhelmed. Rushed to choose dinner, rushed to get to work, rushed to get home, rushed to make decisions, and somehow everybody else seems just a tad slower than normal. The last few weeks also have not been the best traffic weeks either with a few critical traffic lights not working resulting in total havoc in Randburg. Everybody in Randpark Ridge knows that if the Rhema traffic lights (Hans Schoeman & Ostrich or Rabie) are out you travel an extra hour that day. Some days though, it all just clicks and none of the above mentioned stuff,matters. A day when one has one of those WOW runs. Tuesday's run was a quick-fire 5km hill training run, and I felt like a runner. It does not matter that I am not an athlete, it doesn't matter that I am not fast, it FEELS great. Maybe it was the Monday rest day, but man it is inspirational! Last week Wednesday, we planned a 10km run which we had to cut short as suddenly the heavens just opened. We even had a bit of hail. Never mind that were drenched to the skin. The last 2-3 km were fabulous - invigorating - inspiring! It felt real, it felt like Africa.
So on those days, when it is a tough grind to train and my legs feel like lead, I think about the moments that inspire me rather than the mechanics of getting fit.

And if all else fails, I stand in front of my fridge (not opening the door) and read the following to remind me of those moments:

I like to feel the squish of sand underfoot.
To feel the dawn wind.
To hear the birds.
To learn my strengths and weaknesses.
To be out there.
To switch off.
To go to another place.
To smell that summer has arrived.
To clear my mind.
To see the wood for the trees.
To stand outside myself for a bit.
To do something simple, dull and repetitive.
To give problems some perspective.
To enjoy the freedom.
To hear the quiet.
To feel tired and worn out.
To beat that part of me that wants to stop.
To feel that feeling I get afterwards.
Don't call me a runner.

I just like to run.

- Anon

I've had this poem on my fridge a few years. I love it and I read it often.
(and despite quite an exhaustive Google search I've never been able to find any reference to the author)

My favourite things

 

Like most runners, I have a few running habits. Things that make me feel good inside, things I take with me to races and on training runs, my favourite things. (And as I write the words I hear Julie Andrews in my head, singing "these are a few of my favourite things" - I love whiskers on kittens! Before I start posting the "Kitten Diaries", back to running.) My favourite running things are my GPS watch (Garmin Forerunner 610, my super-gadget), my favourite Falke socks, chocolate flavoured GU (I hear there is a peanut butter flavour now...), my trusty running shoes, my two training partners, coffee and rusks at the car before the race starts, Future Life energy meals, and those moments when you run and you just feel FREE (the latter, you can't buy or coerce, it happens when it happens).

Thinking about my favourite running things, made me think about this journey. How did all of this happen? Most of my life I've been the fat one, the bookish one, the nerd not the ever the athlete. I am still not sure I am truly an athlete, but I look around at people my age and very few do what I do. Try what I try and dream this big. Maybe it is a bit of a belated response to life, but who cares? At least I am trying and I am out there and running gave me the wonderful gift of adventure. Adventures like swimming the Midmar Mile this year (I could not swim 6 months ago), running races that seemed impossible not that long ago, dreaming about completing big events like the Great Wall Marathon, maybe even the Comrades one day! 

I started running about 4 years ago and I began from the lowest possible base you can imagine. NEVER doing any sport at all. And when I say running I use the term very loosely. I walked on a treadmill three times a week, slowly increasing my pace and watching Greys Anatomy while I "treaded" my mill. My treadmill journey took me from an overweight, couch potato to a moderately fit 37 year old (15kg lighter, not perfect but better). I followed a basic 10k training plan (all on the treadmill) and finally took the plunge into the "real" world. My first 10k on the road (and my first road running experience) was on the 14th of February 2008; Randburg Harriers Valentine's Night Race. It was amazing. Not only did I love the atmosphere of the night race, but somehow, I had managed to run (jog) 10 000 meters and finish in a not too shabby first time of 70 minutes (and I was at the back of the pack at the start, newbie that I was)! I was shocked, awed and exhilarated and I fell in love (appropriately) with this thing called running. The next day of course, I realised that running on a treadmill will not prepare your body for the road and I ached all over. Not enough to make me stop though. Suddenly, I felt more confident, happier and hopeful. I started dreaming about longer distances. Soon I started running 15s, then a couple half marathons and even tackled the RAC Tough One in November 2009 (32km). 

Running is definitely, one of my favourite things.

Goosebumps

What can I say. I am speechless.

Week 2

It's been merely a week since the plan was formulated.

A whirlwind of activity, excitement and fear and suddenly I have a reserved spot, suddenly I am actually really doing this. Today: I am starting the visa process. A bit complicated because I am not only doing the run - after the race I am also going to be in Beijing for a work conference (Molten12 for the curious).
On the practical front: the weekend's training went well and the final total for the week is <drum roll> 39 km. The target for Week 2 however is 48km! I remember last week, how each 5km felt like a drop in a very, very big bucket - nothing has changed. I still feel totally petrified, but I am soldiering on, whilst doing the pace calculations over and over again. I wish I could stop but some weird OCD monster has taken over my calculator.
42.2 km in 6 hours = 8:32 min/km pace. Average training pace currently about 7:30 min/km. Race pace is typically about 1 min faster, if training goes well. Obviously the effects of a longer distance over a tough terrain will likely slow the overall pace down. Hopefully to about 8min/km. That would be fine by me. I am putting the calculator away now. I am. My head hurts. Tomorrow I am going to make a graph!

Commitment & committed

Forms filled out and sent off. Apparently the 2000 spots are nearly booked! Now waiting anxiously to hear if I got in.Training yesterday was great. Tired after 8k and we ran LSD. Lots still has to happen today, tomorrow and Sunday. Here we go though!


PS: Just received the e-mail - a spot was reserved for me!

Rest days

Rest days are supposed to be planned events. In my life, rest days are the difference between real life and planning. I have a training plan (on the fridge) and somewhere in between work, traffic, pets, friends, boyfriend, dinner, shopping and life - in no particular order or priority - I try to fit in training. This juggle act is what makes dreaming big, bigger. Yesterday started with a traffic horror, 90 minutes to travel the 12 km from home, and ended with an hour long hunt for our 7 week old kitten in the garden after he escaped at 22:00. That is how somehow my day is marked as a "rest day" on my calendar - it felt nothing like it. I know this is the stuff that makes life life. It is also the stuff that makes training difficult (at least for me that is). Other people, just make it look so easy. You know the ones you read about in Runner's World or see on your way home from work (always running up hills). Is it just me? A day in my life is like shopping at Dischem. I walk in thinking, I just need toothpaste, but before I know it my arms are so full of stuff I have to capitulate and get a shopping basket. It is early days yet, so there is (hopefully) enough time to make up lost training days. The cut-off is 8 hours for completion or 5.275 km per hour. I can do this.

Today though, may I ask for peace within, a bigger shopping basked AND please, can the rain stay away until after my 8k run?

Like a deer in headlights

I made contact with a friend in Beijing who is super excited that I will be in town (after the race). Everything about this plan is just coming together. I was worried about wandering around Beijing on my own for four days after the race, now I have a visit to plan! Amazing. I still wish I could share the sightseeing with someone, but maybe this whole adventure is meant to be a solo. Things are certainly coming together so much easier than I ever expected.

Day 2: Feeling excited and scared at the same time today. Last night's training was swimming. Keeping swimming in my training program; after Midmar the hard work is already done. Just this morning the Women's Health newsletter headlined the benefits of swimming. So I swam 40 lengths in the gym pool which makes this 2.6km for the week. Still doing mostly breaststroke (good for quads) but adding in a few lengths of crawl.

I counted it as a rest day because I cheated with a slice of carrot cake. I can feel the juices starting to focus - having a goal is nice. On the fridge, my training plan is making me feel twitchy and just thinking about what I am trying to do makes my stomach turn.

Am I crazy?

Women's Health on benefits of swimming

Nothing profound

Just another day? Maybe not. I am "Jane Soap", ex-couch potato and non-practising chocolate addict.

Yesterday I started on a journey far beyond anything I thought ever possible. I am going to run the Great Wall Marathon on the 19th of May 2012. Synchronicity got me to this point, now I have to do the rest.

Here I plan to write about my journey and my dream. Here I will splutter, doodle, cry, laugh and hope as I get myself fit (and nuts). I have never run a marathon and I am not a natural athlete. This is my Everest. My journey of towards five thousand one hundred and sixty four steps is about to begin. To the ones I love: Bear with me.

Week 1, Training Day 1: Ran a 6k yesterday as part of the first of an 8 week training plan, somehow it feels like a drop in the ocean. I worked out on my loyal calculator that if I manage 7km per hour, I will need 6 hours to finish the race. Phew, the cut-off is 8 hours...

I can do this...

Great Wall Marathon