Bleeps and Drop Outs

So... Sunday I went and got bleeped. Needless to say it did not go well. Turns out I am not good at running fast, or turning round, or keeping going...

Think I will be doing some sprint training between now and the next trip.

But, the drop out section of this entry doesn't actually relate to me (I'm in denial about that side of the bleep). I've had an email from Elaine to say that she won't be able to make it to Everest after all. She has decided that she will continue to drift around South America over the next year, and doesn't want to be a liability as she won't be able to get much in the way of training sorted out, and doesn't think she will be able to do any fundraising either.

So if you read this girl, we'll be thinking of you, and I'll raise a glass when we get to the top.

Points on arrival

Wednesday, so the rumour goes, is Trim Trail day. So there I go, thinking it sounds delightful. 'Trim' brings up images of gentle calisthenics. Perhaps we might limber up, do some light stretching and then jog gently on the spot for a while.

In fact we did start jogging on the spot... but the followed a list of things clearly designed for the infliction of pain on others. I'm sure there must be some treatment available for this level of sadism

Anyway...

Sadly there were some areas of manly working out which I was not quite able to keep up with... generally anything involving any upper body strength (chin ups, dips, funny reverse press up hanging off a paralell bar), or any level of co-ordination (attempting and failing to throw myself repetatively over progressively higher wooden beams was a definate highlight in the stakes of looking like a complete girl)...

On the plus side I was the queen of star jumps, squats, playing on the monkey bars, and lying down gently in the mud at the end of it all.

So I'm guessing tomorrow I'm going to feel pretty immmobile.....

But I figure at least I was there.

Base fitness.

So, from the photographs circulating at the trektator party, you could be quite easily mistaken in thinking I was on the beers. Obviously I was sober as a judge, and doing shots of purest strawberry juice only with Brooks.

I'm thinking 6 months of marathon training with very little boozing may have left me ill-prepared. Or was that just ill?

Fortunately by way of recovery I was allowed out walking in the Chilterns Saturday, as once again the trektator crew outnumbered the teams in a gentle stroll in the hills. Gorgeous blazing sunshine seemed quite random for a Saturday in the middle of October, and we may have happened upon an outstanding pub or two along the route, but still its all training... right?!

Having said that walking slowly up a couple of slopes without a backpack did not give an encouraging idea of quite what a trek we are in for. On the shopping list - boots, breathable kit, my own personal sherpa and kendall mint cake supplies...

Guess I'd better start hitting that trim trail and trying to get some upper body strength for pack carrying. Seems marathon running really might be just 'base fitness'.

Back in training

So Kirt if you read this, I am taking your training warning seriously. 7 days post marathon and I was back at the gym. Although I did look like a wuss gently cross training. I need my finisher tee-short to intimidate people properly.

But either way, I am back in the game...

2 hr half here we come ...

Although I might take Wednesday evening off.
Off the wagon.

Hc

Its a long, long way...

Ah the entry I've been waiting for... I am now officially post-marathon. Am a "finisher". Have a medal and everything.

I think I spent much of the last 20 k thinking in my head what I could write on my blog, so that I could stop thinking about how bloody difficult it was to keep putting one foot ahead of the other. Naturally I didn't come up with anything all that exciting, my brain power seemed to be absent by that point.

At least anxiety dreams were not predictive. I did not either lose my trainers or run alone at the back of the pack, although it was clear at the start that Berlin is a race for serious athlete types. Not a fattie or oldie in sight. and very disappointing lack of fancy dress. Still at least that way I didn't get overtaken by a womble, which would always have been disheartening.

Its kind of hard to say what a 42K race is like. Really very nice to have Alan with me for the first half, but I lost him somewhere after 23k and had to carry on alone. I think this was possibly a good thing as I was in a somewhat delirious state for much of the second half. There was definately whimpering at points. And counting footsteps. Seemed to keep me going.

Had an absolute highlight from Bryan Adams at one point, and quite enjoyed John Denver. German crowds were quite peculiar. A lot of noise makers (literally people who had come out with a saucepan and a spoon and just banged it as you went past!). But I was very unimpressed with the bugle player who gave me the Last Post at about 10ks. Seriously I had a long way to go at that point, it seemed really quite out of place. Bastard.

Anyway, made it over the finish line, which was bloody amazing. Spectators stands on both sides and music all the way down from Brandenburg gate. Felt like a hero... but afterwards I was so tired I had to get someone else to get my timing chip off my shoe as I couldn't bend down. Absolutely amazing crew in the form of Pete, Jo, Coralie, Nigel and Sally who are all friends and running as well. Despite their own tired legs seemed to be able to pick me up and take me for beer. To be fair I lasted about an hour in the pub before I was half asleep on the table.

Still, one race down, and now a break from training for a little while. I got a text message from Alan in the middle of the night last night and I think its fair to say he has fallen back off the wagon.

Now I wonder how long it will be before I can walk down stairs...