disaster is looming at Running HQ. went for 3.5 miles yesterday evening with two of my fellow villa dwellers. Beautiful run but agony. All is most definitely not well could barely make it to the kitchen this morning. But hopefully those lovely people at Camden Physio will sort me out on Monday.
Today is our last day here, which is sad, because it's been absolute heaven ( we lay by the pool one night watching for shooting stars - and saw some!), but we have set ourselves the challenge of eating the entire contents of our very big fridge so that should be interesting if not marginally life threatening. The content of the little fridge is all liquid based so represents a slightly tougher challenge but I'm sure the boys will step up to the plate....

Well there is some positive news from Running HQ, which has temporarily re- located to Umbria. There has been running twice - only about 2 miles each time - but it's better than nothing. Injury still lingering so still not running free or far enough!
I'm also doing lots of running in the swimming pool each day which causes no end of merriment to my fellow villa dwellers. In between running I am concentrating on strength by walking up and down some very big hills - we went to see the Marimore Cascade yesterday and merrily trotted down the side of a wacking great ravine to see it from the bottom up. It was stunning, but we were not quite so merry when we realised it was Tuesday and not Sunday, the only day the shuttle back to the top runs, and had to walk up 500 rough steps (manfully counted and conquered by Lester) to get back to the top. Damn near had a bleeding heart attack.
I'm also working very hard on my nutrition (not). We are attempting a new world record for the number of barbies had in one day and our fridge is so full of Orvieto ( went there - beautiful) and beer there's barely room for the steak.
Best drink some then I think. But perhaps not before breakfast.....

Greetings, Blogfollowers, Fibonacci here.
MyHuman is abandoning me for foreign climes and the Old Matriarch is down from the North to look after me. This is good news for me, because it means tea & toast in bed, meat & potato pies and custard tarts all round!! God, I hope VetJanet's not reading this. She changed my tablets a few weeks ago and now I fell quite perky. I've fully recovered my operation and my fur is growing back in even more luscious than it was before (hard to believe I know). It's not quite all there yet, but at least I no longer look like an extra from Cranford:

MyHuman's torn calf is healing slowly. God if there's no running in Italy and/or more injury there will be a total melt down at Running HQ and I will be moving into the greenhouse permanently.

 

That little sod Marmaduke is due back any day now too. He's a ginger two year-old who lives behind me and chases me in through the catflap and slobbers all over my toys and eats my food; and sometimes he even curls up on my cushion like he owns the place.

Actually I feel a bit sorry for him because his humans have been travelling and he's been in a kennel for 6 months!!! He was bad enough before they went, so after six months inside he'll be completely mental.

Well, I must go and do an inventory of said toys I think, and push Mousey under the book case because he's my favourite.

 

 



Well, the news from running HQ is not so bad I think. Have been to see those lovely physios at Camden Physio and while they have confirmed a muscle tear, it's not severe. Have had some ultra sound and have been told not to run for 5 days, after  which I can try a little jogette. I'll be in Umbria by then (thank you, God) and have been given hip strengthening exercises and hydratherapy exercises I can do in the pool. It's going to be a tough assignment that, exercising each day in the pool of a secluded villa, with nothing but a view of the Umbrian hills and a glass or two of chilled Orvieto to sustain me.......
On a more serious note, I have to go back to see the physio when I return & they'll assess me and help me sort out the rest of my training. So all is not lost yet, although I would be lying if I said it wasn't playing on my mind just a teensy bit that I haven't run half the distance yet but am over halfway through my training.......

Well, week 9 was a disaster. So much so that week 10 is in serious doubt.
I picked up a right calf stain finishing off week 8 last Sunday, but ran through it. First session of week 9 I didn't do to let my strain recover and then the second session, which was intervals (my favourite!) I failed to complete it. That's the first time that I've failed to complete a session that I've started, managing only 5 of 8 interval sets. I was totally demoralised and started to seriously doubt my ability to do this at all. But later that day I was just emailing JT and he walked into the office!! Even more spooky as he's not even based on my site. Anyway , he gave me a pep talk so I decided to the the third session of week 9 the next day and I managed it fine. It was tough - a tempo run - but I did it and felt I was back on track. Until today.
Disaster has struck once more. 70 mins was on the cards, which is longer than I've ever done. So I made sure I had a decent  meal the night before (having restricted my self to one glass of Pimms at the Cricket - front row seats in the Allen stand; fabbo!), up early before the heat built, took water with me, what could possibly go wrong?
Set off at a gentle bimble, gradually working up to ramming speed , all tickety boo, sun shining, birdies tweeting, dogs lolloping, ducks bobbing...45 minutes in, a few miles under my belt I get a little twinge in my left calf totally out of nowhere. I thought OK, will give it a few minutes and see I can run it through like last Sunday when suddenly pop! Something went and I came to a grinding halt. Bloody well ouch! Of course sods law I was deep into the park at the time and it took me nearly an hour to hobble home. Crap! And I got 'attacked' by a bouncy, long-eared chocolate spaniel called Lola and then a great Dane which tried to wrestle my water bottle from me.
Have done ice and anti inflams, but I can't actually walk now, which is a bit of a bugger as I have heaps to do today, most of which involves walking. Did I already say Crap!
Come on you runners out there following this blog - what am I doing wrong?

I wonder if any one has ever done a half marathon on their hands and knees?
Could be a first; I will not let this beat me. If you are looking down , Bridget, from the Welsh department of heaven, I could use a bit of help down here......

Why is it that when you see two people doing early morning personal training, it's always the man doing all of the shouting and the woman doing all of the work? Case in point in Primrose Hill - I saw this bloke sitting on a gym ball (although to be fair it could have been the other way round the proportions of both being so similar), chatting on his phone and there was a girl at his feet who looked for all the world like she was knitting herself into a tanktop. She let out  tiny squeal as I went by, which could have been pain or she'd dropped a couple of stitches and the bloke on the ball hardly broke breath - "keep going, love, your doing fine. What's that, mate? Yeah I'll meet you later in the Lazy Sod  for a wheat grass and a cheese burger....."

Off to Lords now for a lazy day's cricket watching from the members end. I wonder if you can die from drinking too much Pimms.....?

Got to do 70 minutes running tomorrow, which will bring wretched week 9 to an end. More of that later...

Week 9 is not going at all to plan, but more of that later, because I'm going to have to have a teensy weensy little rant about birds. Not being a natural athlete and no longer in the first flush of youth, I sought loads of advice about running - what to do, what not to do, what to watch out for.  I even bought Matt's 'Get Running' book which neatly lists all of these things - buy the right shoes, wear the right clothes, eat the right foods, don't over train and try not to get run over (ok, I made that last one up but it should be at the top of the list!). But Matt, Matt ,Matt, Matt,Matt, you've let me down badly. Nowhere in your lovely book (that's the one with the hideous training schedule I'm trying to follow) do you tell me to watch out for the birds...
There was I bimbling along the tow path, a million miles away and not absorbing the fact that there was a bloody huge aviery in the offing, when two ,what I can only describe as small pterodactyl things decided to have a pterodactyl domestic at the top of their screeching avian voices, just as I was bimbling by.
Elevated heart rate? Damn near pitched headlong into the  canal I got such a bloody fright.

Note to self: mind out for the sodding birds

In my Matt Roberts Get Running schedule for today it says "we're now throwing in a few sprints for some serious speed and fun".
Er..Hello?!
First of all, sprinting is not fun, it's a nausea inducing pain fest; and B, are you crazy??!!
I'm so far the wrong side of forty I'm only just the right side of fifty, with a dodgy right hip and a dodgier left ankle and can't start the day without an inhaler; and you want me to sprint? And for fun?
NO!!
No,no.no,no,no,no,no! Pas de sprinting! EVER!!!

I think I shall have to write my own book -
Running for the Unfit Forties.
Chapter 1: Don't.
The End.

Been out this morning for the start of week 8. Nothing spectacular only 25 mins steady was required and managed just over 2 miles. Just as I was coming into the park I saw a woman running towards me going like an express train and I thought I bet she's a young club athlete in training for something. When I got up to her she must have been 60 if she was a day! And she said good morning like she was just out to get a paper. There am I, bimbling along valiantly, thinking I must surely be nearing the Olympic qualifying time for something by now, and there is she, at least 20 years older and running faster than Usain bleeding Bolt. There is no justice in the world. Or in park, at any rate.
But I did see a really cute puppy. And a finch.

Well, week seven hasn't quite gone to plan. After the Welburn Ryans left I came down with another lurg.Honestly, I've gone year after year with no illness, but ever since I started running I'm catching nasty things on a regular basis. What's that all about, then? Friday's Tempo run went by the board as I could barely stand up and Sunday morning's long run didn't seem like it would happen. It's up to 65 minutes and I knew I wasn't feeling great but I thought I should at least try to do something even if it was just a twenty minute stagger. I went really slowly and at about 30 mins I thought I might actually die if I didn't stop. But then the heavens opened and it absolutely hammered down and somehow it reinvigorated me. Running in the lashing rain was brilliant - it really did rain stair rods for half an hour.Unfortunately I had my Team Bones tee-shirt on and not my proper running shirt and it was sopping afetr 10 mins; well everything I had on was.
But it was worth it -  I did my 65 minutes. Yes, you read that correctly - I (me!) ran non-stop for over an hour!!!Yarroo!!! It wasn't as good distance wise as last week ,but given that I've been living on paracetamol and ventolin for the last two days I'm rather chuffed with myself. Mind you, I feel a bit ropey now...

Greetings blogfollwers - Fibonacci here again.
Running HQ has gone Olypmic mad. Here I am with a real Olympic torch!! One of the Welburn Ryans carried it in Yorkshire

There is sport on all day long and I've had to retreat to the potato sack several times due to the excessive amount of yelling at the television that is going on. We watched Ben win the Finn class today - much yelling involved and saw our two gymnasts win silver and bronze (more yelling). Go GB!!
I have been in the dog house a bit - I spied a peice of warm chicken in a bag and actually managed to appraoch undetected and get my head into the bag and get my teeth into it, but then, inexplicably, I got my head stuck in the bloody bag and fell off the counter trying to get it out.  There was a lot more yelling then  ,but not at the telly....
Having just got rid of those pesky Welburn Ryans we are gearing up for several of the Belgium Ryans and their olympic tickets..It's like  a bloody hotel. But at least they are cat people so loads of treats for me I think.....

Greetings, blogfollowers, Fibonacci here.
I have declared an Olympic holiday here at Running HQ (though I see from Matt's training plan that this coincides with interval training......). I think MyHuman is tired and needs a day off.
The Welburn Ryans have been staying, flaunting their swimming tickets under my nose (I'm not keen on swimming at all - I fell into the washing up bowl once trying to make my escape with a piece of bacon I'd liberated from an unattended sandwich and have been traumatised ever since.). They are dog people, the Welburn Ryans, and have been teasing me mercilessly - mostly about being a cat -  and annoying me no end, culminating in this little stunt:

We watched the sailing and the archery and this morning watched the women's pair win a stonking gold at the rowing (though what the womens's quad was playing at I do not know).Go GB!! This afternoon we are going to watch Bradders take it home in the time trial.
The Gymnasts on the balance beam inspired me to have a little go on top of the trellis. I haven't been up there for a while on account of my surgery, but I was going very well, showing off my moves when the sodding blackbird, egged on by those pesky robins - dive bombed me just as I was executing my most difficult move (turning round). Damn near came a cropper but manged to recover just in time, although my artistic merit marks took a bashing.
Well, all this blogging has worn me out. I think  little snooze on the potato sacks is in order. I'm going to see VetJanet next week, buy I'm not sure why. All my visits involve her shooting something into me or drawing something out of me  - both with a bloody big needle. Will have to make an Olympic effort not to get caught that day...