•Tuesday, March 23, 2010
I am feeling so completely wiped...
Last couple of days have been interesting.
I did my very first fun run and because one of my other mates had already entered, instead of doing 3k, I wound up doing 10k in the Twilight Running Festival. In hindsight, that probably was not the wisest move as it has been a while since I've done any kind of distance running and 10km is well and truely above what I would normally do anyhow! So, the race pretty much went like this:
1km - Wow, that was a lot longer than I thought it would be.. oh well.. just keep going. 6:00/km is good. I'm on track.
2km - What?! Are you for real? This is ONLY 2km? (Stopped jogging and walked a bit in silent protest). 6:30/km.
3km - Onset of minor meltdown accompanied by psychogenic hyperventilation. I felt like I had been running for an age already and was feeling like I would NEVER reach the end.
3-5km - At some point I realised I just need to keep going cause walking was going to take me an eternity. Started to set myself landmarks to run to and when I reached, would set another landmark. I spotted my PT heading back in the opposite direction (talking quite a few kms ahead of here) and realised my man would be heading back so started focus on picking him out which did a good job of distracting me from feeling tired.
5 - 6km - At the turn around point on the Corso, some random had set up a sprinkler across the track. I love that guy...
7km - 8km Between 6 and 7km I spot the mate who was running behind me and then suddenly I've lost anything else to focus on... This little section between 7 and 8km is the worst. Although I was fine in terms of cardio, my lower back was hurting from trying to do the new technique poorly, my muscles were tired and mentally I was beat as it seemed like everyone in the universe had run past me...
9km - Possibly the best sign ever. It is almost over. Reach the running track and tell myself that I will not stop while there are people around watching and cheering etc. The guy coming first in the half marathon is not far behind me because the idiot on the loud speaker is announcing it. I decide it is time to sprint it home for the last 100-200m. Amazingly, my body complies and I reclaim my place in front of two or three women who were slowly finishing. At that point I wish I'd tried to push it out at the beginning of the track rather than the end! Of course cardio wise I was ready to die after crossing the finish.
Yeah... which means the marathon dude did the same track that I did twice with extras in the time it took me to do it once... noone likes crazy people like that.
My PT set me 65 minutes to do it in and I managed it somewhere around 72 minutes. Probably will show a little better because it takes a minute to get through the start line.
Of course at the end after all my sulking and whinging I knew I would be doing it all again in the furture!
The down side was that after the race I started to feel a little off colour and like my guts were none to happy. Made it to the pizza place for our celebratory dinner before things went rapidly down hill and I could barely sit up right. I felt sick and incredibly lethargic and despite my feeble protests ended up being manhandled by husband and friend to the hospital next door where I was triage as a cat 4 and left in the waiting room for six hours, rolling around in crampy agony alternating between vomiting and diarrhoea. By the time I got to see a doctor the worst had passed and I was ready to go home... which they allowed me to do with a bottle of maxolon in tow. Finally in bed at 5am.
After the first spew I figure it was just lactic acid build up... but when it didn't resolve...gastro clearly.
So, the day was spent sleeping , rehydrating and gnawing on toast...
Today I am back on real food but feeling pretty tired and lethargic still. Need to go and restock on vitamin material and also grab food for lunches during the week so that will be my task for the afternoon.
Was at some point going to write about new work arrangements but I think I've pretty well spent my creative genius for the day and need to return an email or two.
Last couple of days have been interesting.
I did my very first fun run and because one of my other mates had already entered, instead of doing 3k, I wound up doing 10k in the Twilight Running Festival. In hindsight, that probably was not the wisest move as it has been a while since I've done any kind of distance running and 10km is well and truely above what I would normally do anyhow! So, the race pretty much went like this:
1km - Wow, that was a lot longer than I thought it would be.. oh well.. just keep going. 6:00/km is good. I'm on track.
2km - What?! Are you for real? This is ONLY 2km? (Stopped jogging and walked a bit in silent protest). 6:30/km.
3km - Onset of minor meltdown accompanied by psychogenic hyperventilation. I felt like I had been running for an age already and was feeling like I would NEVER reach the end.
3-5km - At some point I realised I just need to keep going cause walking was going to take me an eternity. Started to set myself landmarks to run to and when I reached, would set another landmark. I spotted my PT heading back in the opposite direction (talking quite a few kms ahead of here) and realised my man would be heading back so started focus on picking him out which did a good job of distracting me from feeling tired.
5 - 6km - At the turn around point on the Corso, some random had set up a sprinkler across the track. I love that guy...
7km - 8km Between 6 and 7km I spot the mate who was running behind me and then suddenly I've lost anything else to focus on... This little section between 7 and 8km is the worst. Although I was fine in terms of cardio, my lower back was hurting from trying to do the new technique poorly, my muscles were tired and mentally I was beat as it seemed like everyone in the universe had run past me...
9km - Possibly the best sign ever. It is almost over. Reach the running track and tell myself that I will not stop while there are people around watching and cheering etc. The guy coming first in the half marathon is not far behind me because the idiot on the loud speaker is announcing it. I decide it is time to sprint it home for the last 100-200m. Amazingly, my body complies and I reclaim my place in front of two or three women who were slowly finishing. At that point I wish I'd tried to push it out at the beginning of the track rather than the end! Of course cardio wise I was ready to die after crossing the finish.
Yeah... which means the marathon dude did the same track that I did twice with extras in the time it took me to do it once... noone likes crazy people like that.
My PT set me 65 minutes to do it in and I managed it somewhere around 72 minutes. Probably will show a little better because it takes a minute to get through the start line.
Of course at the end after all my sulking and whinging I knew I would be doing it all again in the furture!
The down side was that after the race I started to feel a little off colour and like my guts were none to happy. Made it to the pizza place for our celebratory dinner before things went rapidly down hill and I could barely sit up right. I felt sick and incredibly lethargic and despite my feeble protests ended up being manhandled by husband and friend to the hospital next door where I was triage as a cat 4 and left in the waiting room for six hours, rolling around in crampy agony alternating between vomiting and diarrhoea. By the time I got to see a doctor the worst had passed and I was ready to go home... which they allowed me to do with a bottle of maxolon in tow. Finally in bed at 5am.
After the first spew I figure it was just lactic acid build up... but when it didn't resolve...gastro clearly.
So, the day was spent sleeping , rehydrating and gnawing on toast...
Today I am back on real food but feeling pretty tired and lethargic still. Need to go and restock on vitamin material and also grab food for lunches during the week so that will be my task for the afternoon.
Was at some point going to write about new work arrangements but I think I've pretty well spent my creative genius for the day and need to return an email or two.
1 comments:
I quite enjoyed reading this!
I dont know why i laughed so much, at least in the beginning
before the hospital details which alarmed me as expected.
In a way it was very funny, or funny as in relating to some of the feelings,
where one feels so low it cant get lower, yet one decides to go on
while feels like crying and at that point observing themselves and their reactions,
and then something insane inside starts to laugh instead...
and then its all funny in a very peculiar way...
It was a terrific effort...even thought the body did not seem to like it as much
but hopefully it was not really placed in serious danger.
Maybe next time both soul and body will be more united in the effort with perhaps the right preparations.
Well done Isamazon!
Anonymous J