Man macht und Gott Lacht - part two

So yes - I have not blogged much.  I've been absent from FaceBook (no bad thing) and have not commented much on your blogs (a bad thing - I'm sorry).  I don't know about you but in the weeks leading up to an A race, the rest of my life seems to go by the wayside.  The focus is on my race.  And then - when it's over - the rest of my life comes roaring back at me.  So that has some been some of what I've been doing.  Kids stuff, house stuff, admin stuff etc.  Workout-wise I have been on my bike as much as I can, and I find it SO much more time-consuming than running so even less time for blogging.  Enjoyable, but time-consuming. Expensive too!  In the past weeks I've invested in a new pair of bike shorts (needed more than one pair for a 3 day trip, after all), a waterproof jacket (found out on my one ride in the rain that the jacket I have is not waterproof), and various smaller bits which all seem to have added up. On the upside, I look very cool.

And then there's something I haven't really blogged much about because I kind of didn't want to think about it.  I told you I had a chest infection after Boston.  Something like that (an infection after exhaustion after a serious effort) was to be expected so I didn't really pay it much heed, took my antibiotics and got back to my life.  Over the past 5 weeks I had noticed that my runs were slow, that I was still coughing on my bike and on my runs, but I thought I was on the road to recovery.  However, this Friday I woke up in the night with a pounding headache and by Saturday morning I felt totally lousy again.  Last night my husband took me to the duty doctor at the hospital and yep - my chest infection is back, or never really went away really.  This time I have been put on more powerful antibiotics which I'm hopeful about as Adam, who has also been suffering has finally improved after being on these particular antibiotics and an inhaler.  So here I am - 4 days before I'm meant to set off on an endurance event (230 miles in 3 days) and I'm in bed feeling lousy.  Am I going to do it?  I don't know.  I'm going to see my own doctor tomorrow and get her advice on it but I do realise it's beginning to look unlikely.  Right now I can't even imagine getting on my bike, let alone riding it for hours for 3 days.  But on the other hand, it's an event I was looking forward to and, more importantly, it's a fundraising event for a cause I feel very strongly about and I am really unhappy about dropping out of it.  Right now, I guess, it's out of my control.  I'll have to see how much I pick up in the next few days.

For those of you who have already donated - thank you.  Regardless of whether I'm able to cycle the challenge, the money will be going directly to JDRF and will go towards finding a cure for diabetes.  For those of you who have not yet donated, it's not too late and, as of yesterday, my friend Martha's parents are matching the contributions made on either the UK or the US website.

No shocking insights to share with you this post other than listen to your body - don't end up doing what I've done and go out there too quickly after you've been ill. I very much hope that I will still be able to ride this week but even if I do, I will not be doing it with the fitness I would have liked.  So it goes.


Good luck to all of you out there who are racing in these next few weeks (or raced them yesterday, Jen and Amanda) and as I am now bed-ridden I hope to be able to catch up on your blogs. 

A bigger goal. A better goal

I know, I know.  3 weeks!  It's been a long time since I posted my Boston race report - it's 5 weeks since Boston on Monday (I'm still counting, still picking up my pedal, still have my victorious finisher's photo on my desk.  Privately, I'm still basking).  But in these weeks I've been doing the following:

• being ill for a while longer after my last blog post - my hacking cough follows me to this day.
• yo-yoing mentally from being thrilled at my Boston race to panicking about my future.  What's next?  What's my new focus?  Faster?  Better?  Longer?  Further?  
• just some general existential angst, yadda yadda yadda.  
• a university reunion.  I was nervous about going but it was wonderful.  Empowering.  It's been a long time - nearly 20 years - and there have ups and downs for everyone, but we're still here and we're all excited about the future.  40 is truly something to look forward to. 
• a half-marathon.  Yes - the usual White Peak half-marathon which I ran with Drusy, Nigel, Steve, Gary, Simon and first-time half-marathoner and friend Brad.  Given that Brad ran a 2:04 on almost no training Gary has uninvited him from future races.  I ran a 2:03 - a slight meh time  when I've run a 1:45 here before but I've run 12 miles in total since Boston and spent way too much time listening to Gary's gruesome real-life CSI stories along the way. 

Goal-wise, there is stuff on the horizon.  My first tri at the end of July.  I made the decision to stop going to my swimming classes, as we never get much swimming in or concentrate on any drills and strokes and am instead relying on books and YouTube.  Yeah, well, whatever.  I have a relay race in August in Oregon - a little bucket trip that I squidged into the family budget and timeline.  7 days during which I run the Cascade Lakes relay with my lovely friends Jen and Zach and a whole bunch of other yet-to-be-met friends, and get to catch up with sweet Emily and maybe even Amanda and drink some beer and some coffee and buy some books - I am VERY excited.  

But you know how you can just hang around and whine and just not feel altogether right?  Maybe not.  Well that's what I was doing.  Feeling sorry for myself.  And then someone really went ahead and tried to make me unhappy.  And I got really hurt and really sad.  And then really angry.  And then I decided - enough.  Enough of me.  Sometimes when you're feeling at your lowest you have to go out there and help someone else. 

A few years ago I asked a very wonderful friend of mine, Martha, what her dream was (I think I was sober, just in that kind of mood).  And she told me, after a moment's thought, "an end to diabetes".  Martha has suffered from Type 1 Diabetes for over 33 years and is one of the most admirable, least self-obsessed and self-pitying people I know.  She has got on with her life, despite its challenges, has moved around the world, has an impressive career and a lovely family.  She gives very generously of her time to lots of charities.  And following on from my question, she asked me last year to go on a bikeride with her from London to Paris to raise funds for JDRF (the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation) to help them to find a cure for diabetes.  I said "yes" immediately (again, I was sober).  And people - the moment for our trip is nearly here.  I have focused the first four months of this year on myself - Boston, Boston, Boston.  That was good.  I focused May on myself.  Hmm.  Maybe not so good.  June is for Martha, and for others who live with the daily challenge that Type 1 Diabetes presents.  Just very recently, a blogging AND running buddy of mine, Maddy, found out that her son, Stone, had type 1 Diabetes.  I know it is hard to see your child facing up to a challenge you haven't had to face yourself, and I can only imagine how Maddy is feeling.  But her family is a strong and loving one, and I've met Stone, and he is a strong and loving character.  This is a challenge he can meet.  But I would like to support people like Martha and Stone and to let them know that we are behind them and will do all we can to bring an end to diabetes.

If you are able to donate anything - anything at all - please would you consider making a donation to this charity?  You can do so from the UK or Europe here and from the US or Canada here. 

And finally, you may ask - how am I going to do this?  71 hilly miles on day one, an overnight ferry crossing followed by a 91 mile ride on day 2, followed by a 72 mile ride on the final day into Paris.  Wings and prayers, people, wings and prayers.  I've gone from no biking to almost all biking in the past 3 weeks - I've now gone up to 50 milers which are going fine so I'm hoping to hit a 60 and a 40 on consecutive days this week.  I'm onto my 3rd bikeseat so far (the first, very expensive female-specific one is on ebay - it was NOT specific for this female).  2 pairs of padded shorts, chamois cream and the promise of a beer in the evening and a bottle of champagne in Paris is all I hope it will take.. 

I will be back here soon.  If I'm not out biking manically, trying to pack 6 months training into the next 2 weeks...

learning my lessons - or will I ever?

MIA again - I'm sorry.  Shortly after posting my Boston race report I went to the doctor's office with an increasingly annoying cough and was diagnosed with a chest infection, given a course of antibiotics and told to take a week off exercising and to take it easy.  Not my natural mode of being and not what I wanted, but I was feeling so lousy that I listened and did it.  The downtime did give me plenty of opportunity, however, to go over and analyse my marathon and my training and to work out what did, and what didn't work.  Let's start with the one thing that didn't work:

• my pacing.  In all brutal honesty, I never quite believed I was capable of a 3:40 marathon.  I struggled with the 8:20 min/mile all winter.  Not that I couldn't do it, but it was harder than it should have been for a marathon pace.  I couldn't pull it out during my 20 mile race, and I never "slotted into" the pace during training, the way you should.  It's chicken and egg, I know, but I never had the true belief that I could run this pace for a marathon, and if you can't believe it, you won't do it.  Quite that simple. My coach did what she could to instill confidence in me, but I just wasn't quite there.  As it was, I did actually run on pace for the first 14M.  But my legs were starting to cramp there already, a sign I would have to slow things down to finish at all..  So I don't think that, on the day, I had that pace in me.  If I had been really honest with myself, I would have acknowledged that on the day (because I did know that) and would have set out for an 8:25 - 8:30 min/mile pace.  Small difference, but I think I could have held on to that pace for longer.  There is no question for me that I need to focus more on the mental aspects of running and racing.  Ginny recommended Running Within, which I've started reading, to help with that.  I'll keep you posted.  Ironically - having said everything I've said above - after running Boston I think that I could actually run a 3:40 marathon in the future. 

Now the things that did work:

• Nutrition.  A big fat success mark here.  I have struggled in previous marathons with nausea which prevented me from taking any nutrition on after the halfway mark.  In addition, I often found I needed to use portapotties, or bushes, during the race.  Not this time!  As far as the nausea goes, coach advised me never mix sports drink and GU - which I have, unwittingly, done during races.  I ran with a handheld waterbottle during this race so that I could always wash a GU down with water when I needed to take one.  As far as not needing to make a pitstop is concerned, coach warned me against overhydration (which I tend to do, I drink a LOT of water during the day generally) and so, on race day, I had a cup of coffee and sipped some sportsdrink on the bus while I had my bagel.  No more.  I made three (nervous) pitstops in the athlete's village but that was it.  Nothing during the race.  
• Having a coach.  This REALLY worked for me.  I loved knowing only the schedule for the week ahead. It meant I did not freak out about what was to come and tackled each workout as they were sent to me.   I loved her confidence in me and the specificity of her training advice - when she told me I had to train at a certain pace, I just had to do it.  And I did it.  While I did not make the race pace that she felt I could do I ran the race stronger than I have ever done and I think it is due to how well trained I was for this race.  Finally, having her to consult whenever I had a freak-out or a setback made an enormous difference -  her calm and confidence stopped me spiralling into self-doubt and worry. 
• My strategy.  I am SO pleased with the judgement calls I made during the race.  I am very happy that I went out at my intended pace.  I wanted to give it my all, and during the first 14 miles I did give it my all as far as pacing was concerned.  But I am even more happy that when it became clear to me that I would not be able to hang onto this pace for much longer, I just flicked a switch in my mind.  I just thought "this is my shot.  This is my Boston.  I am going to enjoy this, I want to enjoy this race and get that medal." And I did it.  I did slow down, especially on the hills, but I sped it up again when they were behind me.  I high-fived lots of kids, I YMCA'ed when the music started up, I looked around me, I tried to smile, and I just soaked up the atmosphere.  I didn't walk, I just pushed as hard as I could with my pace.  I ended up with my second fastest marathon time ever - only 1:20 slower than my PB - on a bear of a course and with a smile on my face.  

And hey, thanks to moving up an age group this year, I've actually requalified for Boston.  With less than three minutes to spare, I don't think I would get in this year, however, but it's a good feeling.  And, more importantly - I have qualified for a good for age place in the London marathon next year!  As it's the Olympic year the London marathon is going to be an even bigger event than normal, so I'm really excited that I've got a guaranteed entry for the race. 

My summer plans are busy, busy, busy though I'm not putting as much pressure on myself.  But they deserve, and will get, a blog post of their own.  For now, I feel I have wrapped up Boston and I am ready for the next thing!

I came, I saw, I conquered. Or Boston 2011.

Hoo-ah!  This is going to be long one because people - what a ride!  I've been home 3 days, jet lag has hit us like a sledge hammer (nobody's asleep until midnight and getting everyone up in the morning is impossible, even when there are chocolate eggs hidden in the garden..) Laundry, various domestic problems (no water, no hot water, no internet - we've fixed everything but the first thing) - it's so easy to slip back into it all.

But I'm resisting that - because I'm going to bring you - blow by blow - my Boston marathon experience. Yup - sit back and pop a cold one, because this is, finally, it.

As you know, we all flew to Orlando for 10 days before Boston.  This worked out great - apart from the fact that the kids enjoyed it enormously, I got some hot-weather training in, and we were all relaxing together it also gave me an opportunity for the first blogger meet-up of this trip - I got to meet someone who I have been wanting to meet for years - Shirley-Perly!

Sorry for the poor quality - we should have made more of an effort to get our cameras right!

Shirley and I managed to overlap in Orlando for about 36 hours so I can't tell you how grateful I was that she made the effort to drive across town to come and pick me up from my hotel, take me to the Track Shack where she occasionally helps out, help me pick my tri-gear (yes!) and take me back again.  We talked the whole way - like the old friends we are.  Shirley has always been inspiring to me - not only because she has achieved so much (50 states marathoner?  Multiple IronMan?) but even more because her attitude has always been one of encouragement, support and a deep desire to get everyone on board with the fun and enjoyment of this exercise and endurance lifestyle. She did a great job on selling living in Kona to me - the least I can do is go and check it out sometime soon...

On Friday April 15th we headed north to Boston - after last year, our arrival in Boston was completely uneventful.  But there was no mistaking just how excited Boston was about its marathon - this is our hotel, the incomparable Lenox Hotel.    Not only was the place festooned with marathon posters, the staff were also incredible - helpful, kind, attentive.  Situated about 50 yards from the finish line, we could not have picked a better place. 

So straight off, we all headed down the road (5 minutes) to the expo.  Bad photo but you get the idea.  Big moment.  Even bigger moment when I realised 5 minutes later I had lost my race number.  Hrrmmm.  Had put it down while picking up the 5K race bibs, and the people there very kindly hung onto the numbers for me, knowing full well I'd come speeding, pale and sweaty, into there very shortly.  I then sent off Adam and Felix - the 8 year old - and the 10 year old and I had a wonderful time browsing the expo, buying an alarming amount of booty before heading back to the hotel. 

The kids and I on this momentous moment.

some support from Sophia

View of the finish from a bus in front of our hotel.

The days before the marathon went by in a blur - Saturday morning the lovely Greg came miles in to meet us, walk with us to REI to buy some coats and fleeces (it was COLD!) and cope with the bickering and taunting and general mayhem that is traveling with kids. 

Then in the afternoon I went off to meet lovely Emily, who was not running but staying with her sister near Heartbreak Hill and patiently walked with me up and down the worst bits...  And took this photo!

see what I mean about Bostonians taking the city to heart?

We then took the T back into town to the Marriott to meet with various bloggers there, including Aron and many many others.

Like, even, including, her of the abz - EMZ! I also - yes! - met her PITA and Peanut who are both absolutely lovely and SO proud of this wonderful woman.

The angle does not show how tall and slim this lady is.  Or gorgeous.  And she's hiding her buckle. 

Sunday was the 5K -we woke up at 7:55 (race started at 8am) but once again, our hotel location meant we made it before the gun went off!  We ran it at a leisurely pace - the 8 year old has a LOT to talk about when he's running - but the crowd and other runner support was wonderful and it set us up for a great brunch afterwards at Stephanie's, where we could watch the runners in the local race and Invitational Mile go by.  Before I knew it, it was time to hand over both children to my husband and check into my private hotel room, to chill out before the race.  The hotel supplied both below and I settled in for a bath, some TV watching, a long and lovely phonecall with Lizzie Lee in Seattle.  Pasta meal in the hotel and then bed.  And, thankfully, I slept, all night, until my wake-up call at 5am.

With all my gear laid out the night before, it didn't take me long to get dressed and down to the hotel lobby where they'd laid out a free runner's breakfast (did I mention how GOOD this hotel is?) which I packed up to take with me to eat on the bus.  And somehow did NOT have with me when I walked out of the hotel door.  Oh well. The buses were about a 5 minute walk away, but the line!  The line!  By the time I had got myself another bagel the lines were enormous.  I started queueing and immediately started talking to the lovely girl below - Allison.  She was on her own as well and so we hung around together while we were moved from line to line.  I was amazed we were on a bus by 7:30 as the lines were so horrendously long.  The bus ride was long and uneventful while Allison and I overshared our lives and running stories.  By the time we reached the athlete's village (does that sound professional or what, by the way?  A very glammed up term for a field with portapotties..) we were firm friends.  And so I managed to convince her to join me to try to find Steve Runner and Chris Russell - the former was located very quickly after some intervention from the announcer on the soundstage, the latter was, unfortunately, in a portapotty line. 

Allison and I on the bus to Hopkinton

Steve Runner!  I would not have KNOWN about Boston had it not been for him. 

In all seriousness, meeting Steve really was a big deal to me - especially at the starting line of the Boston marathon.  He, more than anyone else, imbued me with the mystique of the Boston marathon.  It was incredible to meet him and I was so thrilled that he had decided, on the 16th of April, to run Boston after all..

Finally - the race.  The race.  What can I say?  I did what I said I would do.  I went balls to the wall.  Pretty early on I realised that my Garmin was measuring the miles slightly short and so I went by my pace wrist band and aimed for 8:15 min/miles on my Garmin to get to my 8:20 min/miles on the course.  The beginning of the course is downhill and rolling - and I pegged it.  I reached the halfway point at 1:49, exactly where I needed to be for a 3:40 marathon.  But - here is the but.  I could tell the pace was costing me.  Even on this, the first (and easier) half of the race, the pace was hard.  By mile 14, the cramps in my legs started.  I've never cramped this early and I could feel that I would soon have to slow down, or stop.  While I'd used all sorts of mental strategies to get through the first 14 miles, it now was very clear to me that my choices were to either slow down, or risk a DNF.  And I was not risking a DNF.  I suddenly had this insight that I was not going to ruin this amazing experience of running this amazing race by walking half of it, or sitting in a medical tent, or crying for the last 10 miles.  I decided to slow down, and soak up the love.  Which I did.  At mile 18.8 I got some very personal love from Emily who was waiting for me and who cried along with me (I was hurting here) and ran up Heartbreak with me for a while.  And then, at mile 21, a banner told me "the Heartbreak is behind you" and I relaxed and enjoyed.  More than any race before, I loved this race.  The people were incredible, I felt like a rock star with everyone calling out my name, I was running as fast as I could given where I was and how I was feeling, the sun was shining - all was good with the world.  And when I crossed that finish line - in 3:47:02 - I did cry.  With happiness.  What a wonderful, wonderful day!

Could I look any happier? 

There is stuff to reflect on, stuff to build on, so much to work with.  But right now I have to say a HUGE thank you to all of you, my friends out there in the blogging community, my friends at home in the UK and the Netherlands, my wonderful family and all of you who cheered me on - not only for this race but for the whole long road that led to it.  I felt I owed it to you all to get EVERYTHING out of myself and this race - and I did.  I truly left it all out there this time - and there was no death walk (like London) or time in the medical tent (like Berlin). On a course that is much tougher than either London or Berlin, I achieved my second fastest time ever and I crossed the finish line strong, but spent.  I soaked up every cheer, every high 5, every single well-wish and thoughful email you all sent me.  I thought of everyone during the race - I felt surrounded by a wave of love and support.  Thank you - you are - all of you - incredible. 

So - I'm signing off this LONG race report - have a Von Trapp family ale on me!

On setting goals - Mann macht und Gott lacht?

Ok.  Deep breath, here goes.  Setting goals.  For Boston, and onwards.

On this morning's 8 miler I was trying to figure out what I find so hard about setting goals, and why I find it so hard.  And the truth of the matter is not that I find it hard to set goals.  I know what I want to achieve.  But I'm afraid I might not achieve them.  And that's why I don't like to tell people.  Like I can just have my secret goal, play it cool, and then do a great big fistpump if I do achieve it.  And don't have to deal with it in public if I don't.  Instinctively, I feel like the kid in the playground - if I put it out there what I want to do and fail to achieve that, will you think less of me?  Oh, I know that is cr*p but still - I think that's what lies underneath my fear of outlining what I really want.

But then all the self-help / motivational / inspirational / St. Oprah philosophy that I somewhat shamefacedly have started to get into says that you have to put your goal out there, to be accountable, to make it real.  Building in all sorts of caveats is a way of detouring from your goal.  Keep it simple - focus.

So, my goal for Boston.  I've played around with different kinds of goals - time goals, experience goals, effort goals.  My coach has never messed around.  Right when we started, early in December, and I ran my rough and ready first 2 miles on the treadmill, she told me what my goal was.  A 3:40 finish.  Yup.  That was scary, which is why I haven't put it out there any earlier.  That would be a 5 minute and 47 second PR on a harder course.  Hard.  All through the months of December, January, February and March, this goal seemed to dance in front of my eyes.  Really? Me?  She thinks I can do this?  Only last night I was driving myself nuts, comparing my training notes from this training cycle to my (entirely different) training cycles for London and Berlin, and worrying that I was not as fast as I was then. 

But today I got to thinking.  Despite the fact that I BQ'ed in Berlin (and faced some pretty big DNF demons along the course) my best race ever was London. Why?  Because - shortly before the start - someone I had just met told me not to be coy about it - to go out hard and hammer it as best I could.  I had not trained all this time, he told me, to just be conservative.  Be smart, by all means, but leave it all out there.  And just like that, I let go of my old racing strategy (which had always been to start slowly and see if I could pick it up, which I rarely did) and I hammered it.  And well, I did hammer it, right up until mile 25 when it hammered me.  But that was fine.  I was always fine with my time, and my missed BQ.  I had left it out there, there was nothing more I could have done.  I had focus, I committed to my goal and I went for it.

So, my friends - I'm out there and I'm doing it.  I'm going for a 3:40.  I have a race strategy - thank you Coach! - and a plan.  But more than that, I have an attitude.  There are things I can't control about the race - weather, illness, injury, whatever.  But I can control how I'm going to go in.  And I'm going into this balls against the wall, my friends.  All out.  I am giving my goal all I've got, all I've put in, all I've trained for.  2 weeks to go - bring it on!

Lining up.

Yes it has been a while.  And no, I have not been hanging my head down low worrying about my 20M race.  Your comments were wonderful and helpful, and I moved on.  Instead, I have been "doing the rest of my life" and training on the side...  Not the priorities a pro would have but my profession IS the rest of my life and training is the icing on the cake.  Some days...

Life that have happened in the past 3 weeks:
- the remodel of our kitchen

The project has taken MONTHS but was completed 2 weeks ago.  It has taken a LOT of cleaning and dusting since, but we're loving it.  

- spent time with a much-loved friend from Holland who I had not seen in too long.  2 days of shopping, talking and drinking wine ensued.  Interspersed with a NASTY twofer which included 3M at 7:32 min/mile.

The fuzziness was in the camera, not in my mind!

 

 

 

- attended my daughter AND my son's school plays:

Sophia as "little Alice" in Alice in Wonderland (sadly, there were no good photos of Felix's play)

 

- moved into my new study and unpacked all the books which have been boxed for nearly 2 years!

But do not fret.  In the middle of the various domestic crises (today's crisis is the discovery of moths eating our carpets, we've already overcome the weekend where we had no electricity and the main drain was blocked) I have kept my eyes on the prize.  This one:

I have been training, hard.  And I have been planning.  Boston is coming close.  Packing up and organising a family of 4 to travel for 16 days is not for the faint of heart, let me tell you.  But having a goal focuses the mind.  Now - to be fair - my children's goals lie firmly in Orlando.  10 days of theme parks.  (Tips on healthy, wholesome restaurants would be VERY gratefully received).  But on Friday April 15th our gang travels from Orlando to Boston and then the focus will be on the marathon.  I am looking forward to meeting people, going to the expo, and - of course - the race.

Of which more shortly.  I am pondering a post on goal-setting, but I'm scared to do it.  Scared to put myself out there.  Give me another day or so.  I will be back.

Training for success?

 

This was going to be a post about my new Lenten resolution.  I was listening to a Phedippidations episode recently where Steve Runner suggested that instead of giving something up for Lent you made a commitment to spend the Lenten period going over your life, outlining your goals and the direction of your life and working out whether you were where you wanted to be and if not, what you could do about it.  Noble, and after a long run it was absorbed, as my father would say, like a sermon to an elder (it works better in Dutch, this, als een preek in een ouderling). 

All well and good.  Inspired by Amanda's prolific journaling (she has 3 tiny children!  She runs like the the wind!  and she maintains MASSES of journals AND her husband writes meaningful thoughtful considered comments in their marriage journal!  If I didn't adore this woman I'd have to resent her!) I decided I would try to write in my journal every evening and come to meaningful conclusions about my life, where it's taking me, what I need to work on, what I need to be grateful for. Etc.  (No marriage journal yet - I'm staying within the bounds of realism here folks.  I adore my husband, and it's mutual, but he's English).  

Anyhoo.  I was also going to post about effective goal-setting, and how I was doing this, and how this meant I was going to kick some mental *ss on Sunday by running the Ashby 20 miler exactly as the coach specified - 12 miles easy, last 8 at goal pace.  

Life sort of took over.  First off, the week leading up to this race weekend was too hectic for me to get my post in. (And therefore, probably, too hectic for me to actually prepare mentally).  I drove hundreds of miles to pick children up at races and reading competitions, drop children off, sort out bits and bobs for my kitchen which is nearly done, etc. etc.  Then I went to bed too late the night before the race and aaarggh - woke up at 1am and started one of my rare but very unpleasant sleepless nights.  The adrenalin about the race was coarsing through my veins, I was piling on the pressure.  (Note - I'm pretty emotionally full-on when sober, rested and in daylight.  At 2am I am unbearable. I know that). I probably fell asleep around 4:30, and the alarm went off at 6:30.  Bleary-eyed, I drove the 90 minutes to the race start only to find I was fairly underdressed for a damp, cold and windy day.  Nonetheless, I warmed up for 2 miles (coach had decided to make today my first ever 22 miler in training) and started full of good cheer and happiness and happily ploughed along for the first 12 hilly miles at a 9:40 minute mile pace.  I noted the hills, felt some fear, but then told myself I'd be fine.  And for 3 miles, I was.  Running slowly had put me towards the end of the pack and speeding up I found myself overtaking everyone - even on the uphills.  I was really pushing.  And then, 3.3 miles into race pace land (15.3 miles into the race for those counting), I was done. Spent. Exhausted. I made a split-second decision to go to plan B - finish the race - and switched off the Garmin program.  I slowed down to RP +20/30 and made it to the finish, still continuously overtaking people (not a ONE person overtook me, even when i had to stop and stretch out my cramping left leg 3 times in the last mile).  Finally, I finished in 3:08.  

Not an abysmal race.  I ran it in much better conditions in 3:07 2 years ago.  But still.  I had failed to achieve what I had set out to do. I had tried to convince myself I could do those last 8 miles at RP and I had failed.  I know I'm not meant to think that, but I do. 

I've come home, had a bath, slept like a log, and feel a bit better today.  My legs are fine, my knee's held up.  My ego is still feeling a bit battered (not aided by race photos which are just BEYOND hideous.  I do NOT look like that.  I know I said I wasn't going to be comparing myself but right now that is too challenging) but I'll just have to man up and do better.  Coach and I have talked and I think lack of sleep and bad nutrition (only one GU) have contributed.  Onwards and upwards. 

In the meantime, I want your views on this running metaphysical question  - how do I push myself, reset my central governor, focus on my time goal AND at the same time make it okay for myself if things do not work out for me in Boston? Tips / tricks and advice most gratefully received.  

Finally - ending on an upnote - this race has the best goodie bag I know.  A big comfortable soft hooded top and a cheese and tomato sandwich.  All I was missing was a bottle of beer and I might just have gotten over myself somewhat sooner... 

Petra's ABC.

Have seen this everywhere and like it - so here's mine.  Feel free to cut and paste and join in! 

A~Age: 39.  40 this year and looking forward to it - things keep getting better. 

B~ Bed Size: Superking - it's lovely.  

C~Chore you hate: ironing and putting laundry away.  It's a Sisyphean task.  I always give up halfway and everyone ends up dressing out of the laundry basket. 

D~Dogs: Two.  Frank and Alfie - 2 Jack Russells.  They've been dognapped by my FIL though who feeds them roast chicken and soaked liver (yuck) so they just come to see me to pee against the furniture.  Hmm.  I prefer my cat, Pippi.  

E~Essential Start your Day Item: Cup of Earl Grey first, then lots of coffee. 

F~Favorite Color: purple

G~Gold or Silver: hmmm.  both. 

H~Height: 5'4" - I suspect I might be the shortest Dutch person you've ever heard of.  The runt of the Dutch litter.  It's much more comfortable in the UK. 

I~Instruments you play: used to play the piano. 

J~Job Title: web designer - jack of all trades, master of none.

K~Kids: 2 - 10 year old Sophia and 8 year old Felix.  Lights of my life. 

L~Live: Lincolnshire.  I've lived all over the world and never thought I'd end up living on a farm in rural England.  I've now lived here longer than anywhere else and it's home.  I like it.  I'm free here.

M~Mom’s name: Janny - pronounced Yanni (yes). 

N~Nicknames: Peet, petch, molly, booshka. 

O~Overnight Hospital Stays: 2 when I was a teen for various surgeries on my nasal cavities (hmm) and 2 to have my kids. 

P~Pet Peeve: Where do I start?  People who say "I was sat" instead of "I was sitting" or even worse "I were sat".  Facial hair with food in it.  People with chips on shoulder - it's just boring. Self-pity in myself and others.  The crappy food you get served at big functions.  Just give me an apple.

Q~Quote from a Movie: I don't remember these very well - I love Pulp Fiction though and all I can think is "Zed's dead.  Zed's dead baby."

R~Right or Left Handed: Left.  Have figured out how to use my right hand as well though - ambidextrous!

S~Siblings: One, younger brother Erik.

T~Time you wake up: 6am.

U~Underwear: Hate thongs for what they do for you when you have to suddenly brake in a car.  Also for how I look in them.  I like boring bikini pants - spend nothing on underwear really..

 

V~Vegetable you Dislike: okra.

W~What Makes You Late: fooling around on the internet.

X~X-rays You’ve had Done:none

Y~Yummy Food you Make: banana maple pecan cake, quinoa salad, lemon chicken, spaghetti with meatballs - bring it on! 

Z~Zoo Animal Favorite: penguins.

Back in action.

I was just looking at the February stats and despite my positive outlook in my blog last week, I was a bit shocked to see only 117 miles in there in February.  Gulp.  But there was no way round it - I had to take time off when I felt my knee injury happen.  The good news is that I'm back on the road, however.  I started the week with a cautious 3 miler and then progressed to an 8 miler, a 10 miler and a 20 miler.  41 miles as a cautious step back - I'll take it.  My knee held up during the 20 miler yesterday and seems to well on the road to recovery. 

7 weeks out from Boston, I'm beginning to try to line up the have to's for the race:

• I need to set myself some goals.  I have never done this before - I have had goals, secret goals, but have tended to keep them to myself as I was afraid that saying them out loud might make me look ridiculous if I failed to achieve them.  I have been reading your blogs and so many of you believe in the power of putting your goals out there and positive visualisation that I'm going to do this.  Any tips / tricks / suggested reading material? 
• Fuel.  I have struggled with fuel in my most recent marathons, almost always being too nauseous to eat by mile 15 which has not helped the last tough miles.  My past 2 marathons were very warm and it appears Boston could be, well, any kind of weather.  This training cycle I have found myself avoiding sports drinks completely.  The thought of them right now makes me feel sick.  I have had chocolate outrage GUs every 5 miles for a long run and drunk water - it seems to be okay - but I have not practised eating while running at race pace.  I think running faster definitely affects my stomach so again - tips / tricks?  I find myself craving real food during races - peanut butter sandwiches in particular.  Has anyone practised with real food?  I have also, in the past, made "real" sports drinks - half orange juice, half water and some salt.  What are your views on that as opposed to Gatorade?  Am I missing much in terms of electrolytes etc? 
• Race gear.  Given that the weather in Boston could be anything and that I will be doing most of my taper in sunny Florida in the 10 days leading up to Boston I'll be bringing shorts and short sleeves and one set of warmer things.  Coach Zippy's advice in a blogpost some time ago, that you should always feel cold at the beginning of a race, has stuck with me.  I have certainly been guilty of overdressing in the past and overheat very quickly, so might well just put some throwaway warm stuff on and have gloves and arm warmers to deal with the rest.  

Look at that!  Just like her mother - another happy runner!

What else people?  What should I be thinking about?  Given my recent injury AND the fact that my 10 year old is running in a national cross country championship on Sunday (I know!  It's a new passion for her and I am SO proud!) I am skipping next Sunday's half marathon and instead doing a 20 mile race the week after - Coach and I will be working out exactly how I'm going to use that race as a gauge of where I'm at and how to run it.  It will be interesting - it's a hilly course so that will be a good test for me.

I imagine that the next 4/5 weeks will be some really heavy-duty training but my unexpected 9 days off has given me real fire for March - bring it on Coach because I am READY to run. 

Watching from the sidelines

Well, it was all going rather well.  I ran my first 20 miler last Wednesday, as a progression run (also a first) and felt strong and happy throughout.  I eased off with a 6 miler on Thursday and another easy 6 on Friday.  And then - out of the blue - knee pain.  Yes - you groan!  You've been there before, and so have I.  I took the weekend off and went in to see my osteopath on Tuesday.  He's not overly concerned - tight and tired quads have affected the tracking of my kneecap and he seems to think rest will do the trick.  Humph.  I'm now on day 7 (and yes, counting) of my "rest" and it's not where I wanted to be.

how to waterproof your garmin before your 20 miler

running fuel - maybe not the best but it tasted great!

But something is different this time round.  I have had injuries like this in most training cycles.  I have trained through them and taken time off and I've always come out the other end.  Jonathan has been treating my knees since my very first marathon and has this crazy memory for how tight my legs have been in previous training cycles, and he's not worried.  What's different is that I'm just not as antsy about this injury as I've been in the past.  (I've only googled it for 5 minutes people!).  I'm assuming that I will soon be on the road again, I'm seeing him today and will find out what he thinks.  Due to last year's experiment with cross-training I will get myself in the pool and on the bike - carefully - this weekend - if I can't run.  I think that if I can just stay active in the next week, I will be able to cope mentally with the fact that my training has suffered a setback.

Also - life is busy. My two kids are on holiday this week and next, I'm working part-time and some home renovations are finally coming together.  I have been using my time off the road to do things I had left aside.  We were in Dublin last weekend with my daughter (the city will forever, despite what I say here, be associated with the injury) and I'm off to London next week with my son. There's plenty of distraction.

fun in Dublin despite my injury

It's weird.  I'm not even having panic attacks about my projected time in Boston and slipping away from my goal.  Maybe the BAA's convoluted new entry system for Boston has been a help.  I've got a funny feeling that the speedsters (20 minutes faster than a BQ, anyone?) will fill up the marathon long before people like myself (13 seconds to spare) get a chance.  And I'm fine with that.  I guess they had to figure out a system to deal with everyone who wanted to run it.  In my view, they've lost something essential in this process - the BQ is gone, people - you need a BQ - 20 minutes now - but, whatever.  I qualified fairly and squarely to run in THIS year's race, my hotel is booked, my flight is booked, my kids are psyched.  I have been busting a gut for my coach, and I will continue to do so when I'm able to.  I have been loving, loving, loving this training.  Who knows?  All might well be fine on the day.  And if I'm not on top form, I'll still be in good shape to soak every bit of this wonderful, amazing marathon that I'm lucky enough to be able to run.  Will I ever qualify for it again?  I really don't know.  Do I care?  Not really. The world is full of great races and great marathons and fun experiences to be had running with friends and running buddies.   Boston's a HUGE notch on my running bedpost, but there are others I still want to run.  And other blogging buddies I still want to meet.

I was reading a really moving post by Amanda recently about her frustrations about her injury and I can relate to a lot of her feelings.  But one key phrase in her blog really stood out - and it's what I'm working on this year.  Don't compare yourself to others...Be the best YOU you can be.  It went through my head when I got out of the pool on Wednesday (1400m - it felt hard!) and I saw this 25 year old standing by the side of the pool in her bikini in her amazing body.  In the past I would have hidden in my towel, but I made myself walk past her, chanting to myself "this is my body and I love it".  Nuts, maybe, but it worked.  Too much of the past 39 years have been wasted comparing myself - physically, mentally - with others and it's a useless exercise.

I will be at the starting line in Hopkinton and run the very best race I can run.  And I hope to see you out there!

My new relationship - a cut out 'n keep guide

I mentioned in September that I had joined our local gym (again - I have joined and left three times now) and to my great surprise I have found that this time, I am using it enough to justify my membership fees (3+ times a week).  I am doing my weekly swimming lessons (though not every week, necessarily) and have worked out a weights / strength routine which I can fit in around my running and which is not too complicated (a guaranteed turn-off for me).  And I use the treadmill.  I started using it on and off this autumn and it has steadily become a firm element of my training routine.  Bizarrely enough, I feel a bit embarrassed blogging about this.  I have always believed that to train to race outside, you have to run outside.  And I still believe that. 

But, there are some moments where a treadmill really is rather handy.  I have come to love it for speed workouts - without access to a track, this is the most accurate way for me to control my distance and speed, far superior to working out with my Garmin.  (I still tend to run my pace workouts outside). And then, sometimes the outside can be inhospitable (2 feet of snow, anyone?) that while going for a run might prove your bad-assedness, you achieve little in terms of a quality workout.  On balance, I have tended to do about 1 or 2 of my weekly workouts on the treadmill, choosing to do most of my recovery, tempo and long runs outside.  However, this weekend we have had treacherously high winds.  Not of an Australian speed, but still about 50km/h.  Going out for an easy 5 yesterday I had to dodge a few large branches crashing onto the country road around me, and within half a mile I packed my run in and headed to the treadmill.  Overnight the wind did not die down, and I was facing running an 18 miler in it.  So, for the first time, I contemplated running 18 miles on the treadmill.  People do it - I know.  People I like and respect - Jill, Matt, Emz - do it.  But I really wasn't sure how I was going to do this without falling off the back of the treadmill with boredom.  So I emailed Emz and asked her to do it.  And she told me.  And I printed out the email and brought sellotape to the gym and taped her email to the treadmill.  And I did it.  I ran 18 miles on the treadmill.  I did not die of boredom, I did not give up, I did it.  With a smile on my face, most of the time actually - I felt like a million dollars.  And I then realised that, given that even people in Texas are facing snowdays, I have to pay this forward.  So without further ado, I present to you the content of Emz email that got me through this - just cut along the dotted line and don't forget to bring your sellotape.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You. Will. Freaking. Rock. It.

Break it up into pieces. 6 miles x 3.

You may call this nuts but........
I run the first third [6 miles] w/o distractions [tv, music, etc].

Keep. Your. Thoughts. Positive.

You staying positive it what will get you through this & dare I say....may make this your best long run yet. ;)

Focus on your form. Your breathing.

Second 6.....turn on the tunes. You will be amazed how fast these 6 fly by.

Next 5....do whatever works. Tv. Podcast. Etc. I have seen people at my gym tie on their iPads w/rope like stuff...you may want to try that?!

Last mile....kick it up one notch faster. For. Me.

Now.... Petra. You know I'm a little nuts.

Treadmill running. Is. Mental. Meaning your attitude when you hop on that mill needs to be "I've got this", "this is going to be a great run". If you hop on thinking you are going to be bored & turn "mental" in two miles.....you will. For sure.

Just don't tell yourself anything even close to negative.

Keep the incline at at least 1% incline but keep it between 1-2.5% if you need a change.

Stay. Positive. The. Whole. Run.

You've
Freaking
Got
This.

Take a photo of the mill when you are done. :)

Emz
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I did just that.  I got on the treadmill and told myself "I've got this".  I pushed every doubt out of my mind as soon as it appeared.  None of that for me today.  I ran the first 6 miles without any music.  There were people in the gym to gawk at, there were tv screens to look at (without headphones, does that count?), I made a point of focusing on my form and breathing whenever I could remember (at every km, in this imperial country we have metric treadmills for some reason).  Done.  Anyone can do 6 miles.  For the second 6 I had loaded my 10 year old's Now That's What I Call Music 77 onto my iPod.  Call me grannie (come on!  I dare you!) but I have missed some great tunes in this past year or so.  Top powersongs I discovered on these 6 miles were Milkshake (Kelis), Shut Up (Black Eyed Peas), Cha Cha Slide (DJ Casper), Jump (Girls Aloud). I was rocking along and again, the miles went past quickly.  I was varying the incline, keeping the base at 1.5 % but varying it up to 2 for 1K, up to 2.5 for 1K, down to 1 for .5K and back to 1.5% - there was no system to it but I was just trying to make sure my legs did not do exactly the same thing for too long.  For the last 6 I started off with a podcast, but I could suddenly feel my mojo slipping.  Only one thing for it - before I had a moment's further doubt, I found myself some Britney.  Three plays of Toxic and I was back on it.  I had promised Emz that I would run my last mile faster and while I had run the whole workout at the 9:30 min/mile I dropped to an 8:45 for the last mile.  Yeah, yeah - not setting the world on fire here I know but that wasn't the point.  I did it.  And I loved it! 

So not a good look.  This is why the over 35s do not do FaceTime.

See the taped-up piece of paper on the treadmill just behind my elbow?

Don't worry - I will still be doing the vast majority of my running outside.  But I am more amazed than anything that I was able to change my attitude towards something so quickly and so effectively.  I should try this on pizza, red wine and Ben and Jerry's next.  After I have some...

Keeping it all together.

Spoiler alert - I don't always keep it all together.  Just this morning I was sitting at my computer staring at my virtual inbox, ignoring my real inbox, and trying to think of a way to do it all.  Oh, I have all the productivity tools and books and gadgets - one of my favourite ways to procrastinate is to read about productivity - but when push comes to shove, when it's 6am and I wake up a blind panic at ALL I NEED TO GET DONE I freeze like a rabbit in the headlights.  And do very very little. 

I was thinking about this because a blogging friend of mine - yours too, probably - Emz recently lost a "follower", because, in the words of her follower Emz had initially seemed to be a "serious runner" but on the follower's reflection seemed to have a lot of "filler posts".  What she appeared to mean with this is that Emz writes about other stuff than running, that Emz has other things going on in her life.  I was astounded by this comment.  First off - Emz is a serious runner.  Serious because she runs.  And, not that this makes her a more serious runner, but it just so happens that she runs 3:20 marathons and works really really hard at being a good runner.  So, in terms of commitment and achievement, she's got what it takes (she also has the BEST abs in the entire world but that's beside the point.  Filler, if you like).  But the real thing that astounds me is that idea that we, as runners,  wouldn't have "filler".  Or a life, as you could also call it. 

My life is full to busting with filler right now.  We are finally getting to the good bits of some major redecoration in this house, so there are endless trips to paint shops and decisions and drawings and considerations.  My kids have had all sorts of emotional stuff going on in their lives recently which I've been heavily involved with.  My husband's businesses are doing really well (thank goodness) but I'm required to lend a hand with that, and what I thought was a dormant career is proving to be waking up.  What's interesting to me in all of your blogs is not just the running and the training and the race reports - but how you're doing this in the middle of all your life, whatever your life might be like.  Even the pros - could you get more "serious runner" than Kara Goucher? - have filler - she didn't race as well as she could have recently because she spent nights by her son's bed in hospital. 

It really bothers me that there is this kind of stuff going in the running community.  You can see it in the discussions around Boston qualifying standards, discussions about race cut-off times, discussions about walkers in races.  I'm not saying we should not discuss this - we should, absolutely, debate these issues - but please don't look at other runners and tell them they are not serious runners.  Speed has nothing to do it.  Commitment is harder to measure, but a far better way of knowing.  Run your own race people - and leave others to do the same!

I'm in real ranting form at the moment aren't I?  I guess I'm trying to get my head round various things that have been percolating for a long time, and I'm wanting to work them out and move on.  Turning 40 this year can, I know, be a tough thing but I really want to take stock of thoughts and habits that might not be working anymore, and move ahead with the constructive ones.  "Filler" can take over, and sometimes you need to step back and work out which filler matters..

So onto my running - have you stopped following me yet? It is going seriously well.  I am still loving having a coach.  I didn't realise how much mental energy I was expending working out pacing and training and then trying to determine whether I was working hard enough or too hard.  Now I just do what she says.  Generally I assume that whatever she sets me to do, I can do.  Revelatory recent runs?

• a very hilly 18 miler.  Last year I was trying to pound out all my long runs at below a 9 minute mile.  Looking back, I think I tired myself out on the long runs and thereby lacked quality in my speed and pace work.  Coach makes me run my long runs slow and so I'm focusing on form and endurance, rather than getting round quick.  There'll be a time for that, but that's not now.  The 18 miles was very hilly and because I was hitting it in 2 out and backs, the hills never stopped, but I still made it round comfortably, finished strong (and fast) and averaged a 9:07.  
• my first two-fer - 3 easy miles in the morning, then 7 miles of 800 repeats at 7 min/miles and a 1600m at 7:11 min/mile.  Not easy, but did it.  Can't quite believe it! 

I can't quite put my finger on it but I have my mojo back.  I feel strong and able in my running.  I am prioritising it in my life, dropping other balls when I have to / am able to and - most importantly - really enjoying the training.

So onto February, which will no doubt be a month full of "filler" - bring it on! 

Making the grade.

Or not quite making it.

I have been thinking about this ever since I "failed" a workout set me by my coach last week.  8 x 800m up a hill at 7.11 min/mile.  It was snowy, there was some slippage.  I had an excuse.  But really - there was NO way I could do that.  I think I could possibly run 8 x 800m at 7.11 min/mile on a flat surface.  On a good day.  But up a hill?  I don't think I could.  Coach understood and adjusted.  Then, this evening, I could not bring myself to do the tempo run set.  Again, an excuse - the gym was as hot as an oven as the A/C had broken down and also - dang I love to run my tempos outside on my quiet country roads.  I just do.  And I DID manage that tempo last week so darn it, I'm going to hit it tomorrow morning.

I've been reading some blog posts - I am waaaaayyy behind but will catch up - by some very hardcore, tough ass runners.  And I admire you, you hardcore, tough ass runners.  You are amazing.  Elizabeth Waterstraat wrote an excellent post on facing your fears and HingTFU.  I've been seeing how you look - Elizabeth, and you too Kara, and I've been admiring from a distance, because I'm not sure I dare sign on, Shut Up and Run's uncompromising, brave and hilarious blog.  In the past few weeks I have watched people around me resolve, lose their resolve, and get back on that New Year's wagon.  I admire, applaud, and support all of these brave moves.  I've signed up with WeightWatchers.  I want to look like Kara,

like Elizabeth, like Miss Zippy, like ShutupandRun.  Like so many of you for whom endurance sport is the defining strain of your lifestyle.  And your amazing bodies demonstrate that.

Then today I was saying to my husband that I was desperate to lose 4 kilos.  With the silent promise so many of you know - then, then.  Then it will all happen.  4 kilos is what stands between me and greatness.  And then he said to me that I looked gorgeous, strong, fit now.  I looked like a 39 year old woman who worked hard, ran hard, trained hard, but who was still a woman.  And I reflected that - when I was 4 kilos lighter, not so long ago, I looked more drawn, more strained, but I still had those legs, that ass - I am NEVER going to look like Kara, or Elizabeth, Miss Zippy or ShutupandRun.  I can, in Saint Oprah's words, strive to be the best me, but heading towards my 40th, it's the best ME I want to be going towards.  Let Kara be the best Kara, Elizabeth the best Elizabeth, etc.  Let Petra be the best Petra.  And oh when will I learn to stop comparing and start just being me? For all you youngsters out there, I'm warning you, you might not be there yet at 39.  Just sayin. 

And then my wonderful coach, Miss Zippy, confirmed to me that she is the right person to be my coach right now.  She is struggling with injury right now and has written a very moving post on how life is missing something without running and how nothing else can take that place.  And I read all the comments - including someone who was telling about a lady who'd rather walk than not run 8 minute miles.  And it made me think. In the past year I have followed my extremely dear and talented friend Jen go from someone obsessed with times and results to someone who has readjusted to finding balance and joy in her life. Without focusing entirely on how fast she is, or who she is beating.  And I realised that, more than anything else, I just love running.  Running has changed my life.  I don't think I would be who I am right now without it.  7 1/2 years on from that first halting painful first half mile, it has become an integral part of me.

But I lack the singlemindedness of the athlete.  I think I could cope with not running fast. (I bet Paula Radcliffe just sighed with relief).   I think I could cope with running slow miles.  Unlike that woman in the comments, I could cope with not 8 minute miling (cr*p, I couldn't cope with 8 minute miling tonight as a tempo run and I'm still standing and will go out tomorrow morning for a run - I know I can cope with that!).  Like Miss Zippy, when I've not been able to run it's been a hole in my life.  But as long as I can run, I realise I can cope with not always running this fast.  And don't get me wrong here, by the way.  I am going kick the hell out of my training plan.  I am going to nail that workout tomorrow morning. I know I need to work on my mindset, and I'm doing that (Tim Noakes, bring on your governor!).  Boston is great and I can't wait to run it.  And I will run my heart out, and my ass off - whatever time that gives me.  But.  I also know that I also love my long slow runs through the countryside where I'm not really concerned with my pace and just listening to my podcasts.  I love the many, many, many friends running has given me and the fun stuff my running leads to. I love it more.

So maybe my lack of single-mindedness means that sometimes I miss an interval workout, unlike Elizabeth.  And maybe she thinks I should HTFU instead of sloping home, having a bath with a glass of merlot and heading to bed with a crime novel.  But that's her, and this is me.

Tomorrow is another day.  And I will be out on that road.  Running the best I can.  So let's wash all that stuff of - that fear of failure, that fear of being too fat, too slow, somehow not being good enough.  Break the ice with me and come for a swim.  Anytime!

Out with the old, in with the new - give it to me 2011!

Hope you had a good Christmas? We did - we started off the holidays with a Santa run and have been charging through the weeks ever since. And almost before I realised it - in the brief breather between Christmas, boxing day, Felix's birthday (December 27th) - and New Year - it's the 31st!

2010 was the year that did not go as planned. Har dee har har I hear you laughing - life's like that - and I knew that, but I don't think I really knew it. So 2010 came along to make that point to me. You all know that at the very last moment I found myself unable to travel to Boston to run the marathon there. It was an enormous disappointment which to some extent overshadowed my feelings about running for a long time afterwards. You may also have gathered, through my frequent cryptic references, that 2010 has also been a very challenging year for me on a personal and emotional level.

Yet, as I lie in bed thinking about everything that has happened in this past year, I feel that both experiences, unpleasant as they were at the time, have been instrumental in pushing forward personal growth and development. I joked about it at the time, but failing to get to that starting line in Hopkinton really did force me to surrender to the universe. I am not always in charge. And I was able to use that experience when things got rough on personal level - where in the past I have always tried to "fix" things and problems, I realised this summer that sometimes you must let things be as they are with people as well. Actions have consequences and instead of always trying to undo them or change them, sometimes you just need to let things unfold as they will. Oh big stuff, I know, and hardly stuff I'm done figuring out. But I do feel happier with where I stand, and stronger for battling through it.

And my running? This has not been a year of PRs or medals. My Boston training cycle was mixed - I was exhausted for a lot of it. I abandoned my training for the Nottingham marathon due to exhaustion presumed to be the result of anemia. I ran very few races. But it has been a year where my training, however unsuccessful at times, has proved a mainstay and an anchor. Having something to do, a goal to achieve, however unrealistic at times, has helped me through. And on. And in the course of this year, I also discovered how much I enjoyed biking and swimming. My progress in both areas is slow - I am still taking swimming lessons and my bike has not been out for a month due to the diabolical weather - but I have signed up for the London triathlon next summer and will be out there training for that AND my London to Paris bikeride as soon as I have finished Boston.

And let's just talk about Boston for a minute. Training for Boston is going well. I have said it before and I will bore you with it again - I love having a coach. She tells me what to do - I do it. When I panic - which I did earlier this week because I was worried I wasn't exhausted enough by my training - I email her and ask her whether I should panic and she emails me straight back and tells me no, I'm fine, I'm building a base and some speed, and the long runs are ahead of me, and then I stop panicking because, you know, she's got a plan for me! She knows what she's doing - I just need to continue doing it. And the logistics for Boston have fallen into place as well. I didn't want to blog about it any earlier for fear that my kids might read this and realise what that dastardly Santa had in store for them but our big Christmas present this year was that on April 5th, we will all fly out to Orlando for 10 days (with ALL that entails, including, I hope, some running with my Florida peeps) and then on the Friday before the marathon we will fly up to Boston and squeeze into one room at the Lenox Hotel together and my kids and husband will be able to cheer me on in the race - how cool is that? They would have been unable to join me this year, so this definitely makes running it in 2011 extra special..

There is so much to look forward to in 2011. Not just the races and the trip with my family, but I am also turning 40 and am looking forward to it. It's a milestone and I'm so happy to be heading there in good health and spirits and with so much good fortune in my life. I'm not sure yet how to celebrate it - any suggestions welcome. If you can include some travel and a race, all the better!

And last but not least - you all have made 2010 for me. You, my blogging buddies, are real people and real friends. Your comments, views and insights have been invaluable. I was lucky enough to meet some of you this year and hope to meet many more next year - either in Boston, Florida or maybe here?

Merry new 2011. May it bring you ALL you hope for. And come run with me.