31 Days - Something I found

Ok so let's churn out these last few, hey?

Something I found.

I found running...or it found me...or we both found each other, and in the process I found me.

I went to see my psychologist yesterday. God love my psychologist - I know I do. I've been seeing him on and off for fifteen years. Anyway we were talking about activities or actions that bring a person back into themselves. He was saying that people who engage in self harm activities can often do so to bring themselves back into themselves. He suggested that this is what running is for me; that it brings me back into myself again. I tend to agree. After a run I feel so very present and aware of myself, my surroundings, my body and my thoughts. Running slows everything down so that I can find myself again. I feel that the world makes sense when I run...or after I run.

I found running...or it found me...or we both found each other...and in the process I found me.

A love letter

Dear Running,

I am so glad you and I found each other.

I needed you so much today. We didn't have such a great time on those hot afternoons, did we? I think you and I are meant to be together in the coolness of the morning when the air is cold and clear; not the afternoon of a sultry day where the air feels heavy in my lungs. This morning was perfect.

The road expects nothing of me. It is there before me and never ends. Even when there is no path to follow the way is before me. The road just accepts my pounding feet, not asking how I am, how far I intend to go, how long I will take - for sometimes I don't know. I just run and the road accepts that.

You are best when there is so much going on in my heart and head. I know I have to be out there on the road to give my body an outlet for all the feelings that have no words....or too many words that I simply can't express. I run and everything that I can't understand or emotions that feel too big kind of become more manageable. They don't change or go away at all, but the rhythm of my pounding feet becomes a mantra, "You'll be alright. You are ok. Everything will work out," over and over again until my heart stops pounding and all anxious thoughts melt away.

Pain becomes my friend. You've helped me see pain in a different light, for the pain of you is not the pain of something being terribly wrong. It is the pain of things changing, of muscles strengthening, of form improving. I took particular note of my quads this morning. I could feel them burning the further I went, but the further I went the harder I would push and my quads responded. I was fascinated.

Running, you have made me a student of my own body. I have learned so much. I have learned persistence. I have learned about dedication and commitment.  I have learned that I'm stronger than I think. I have learned that even when I think there's nothing more left in me to give I just need to dig deeper and find that which is in reserve. There's always a little more.

I've learned that I can't expect myself to be everything to everyone. It's okay to have something just for myself that I don't have to justify or explain. I've never had that before. All my life I've lived with what I've been taught - not to be selfish, to share, to think of others, to leave myself until last. You have taught me that I am important too; that I need to take this time to just be alone and to guard this time we have together almost jealously. 

Thank you for everything, but especially bringing me back from the brink. I tell people that I started running because I was in a really dark place. You helped me run out of that dark place. Sometimes it still gets a little dark, but I know that sunshine waits for me just down the road and around the corner. 

Till next time!

Me xox

Mind games of the mouse while the cat's away.

Ok...ok...so these are possibly hamsters! Drunk hamsters! Tee hee!

My personal trainer, Kara has swanned off to China for....ten days?

Lucky Kara! :)

Now, you would think that while the cat is away this little mouse is going to play. I mean, despite the fact that we have a month's program written up, who is here to actually check that I'll follow it? Oh folks, this thought has flitted through my mind on more than one occasion! Yes it has! Who would know if I followed the program or not? I could just say that I got up and ran a 10km or worked on my abs, or my core, or went to the pool!

No one would know!

Except me.

And that's the thing. I hold myself accountable. No one gets the guilts more than me if I don't actually do something I'm committed to. If there's a 10k on the scedule, regardless of the fact that my mind might protest and say, "Shhh! Only do 8k. No one will know. Eight kilometres is still a decent run!" I push on and do it anyway and at the end of the 10km I feel as though I have achieved something.

So I'm working on my arms and my abs and my legs. Oh my goodness! Death Jumps! I hate Death Jumps, but please give me more! Last week I ran a total of 23km and swam 2km - all in the program.

On Saturday, Kara has slotted in a 17km run.

S-e-v-e-n-t-e-e-n k-i-l-o-m-e-t-r-e-s.

I can't even pretend I'm not intimidated. I keep looking at that distance and feeling chills. Truth be told, I'm scared. I haven't done anything further than 15km since April. Actually, the fartherest distance I've done since then is 12km. Kara thinks I'm ready.

I realised this morning that I am letting my own mind defeat me. I've already decided that it's too far and too hard and if I keep on with this attitude then the distance will be too hard and I will fail.

Seventeen kilometres is only two kilometres further than fifteen - and I've done fifteen. I can do fifteen...so I can push on and do seventeen. I can think of the elation I will feel when it is done. That will spur me on. I plan to run the entire way, but there's also the option of doing it in intervals after 15km - say, 5min walking/10 min running. It's achievable.

These are the mind games of the mouse while the cat's away.

Standing on a golf ball

Yes, that's what I'm doing.

Have you ever tried it?

Apparently it's good for releasing muscles that run from your foot, up your leg, around your hip and....somewhere else.

My PT would be able to explain it because she's the expert but I don't have a clue.

I've been standing on this golf ball for the past half hour; not just gently rolling it under my foot - no siree Bob! Full on weight bearing of the wincing kind!

But gee my leg feels better. This left knee of mine is the one I have to watch. It's the leg that was deemed crooked all those years ago so the weight doesn't distribute evenly down the leg and the outside of the knee cops the brunt of it. It's a typical achondroplasia thing. Bowing of the legs is quite common. Back in the 80's there was talk about having tibial osteotomies and getting the leg straightened but we opted not to have it done. I'm glad we didn't. Back then the procedure was a little more primitive than it is today and the results wouldn't have been as good.

Over the past week, since the 10k my knee has given me some grief so there's been no substantial running for me apart from a couple of 5k's whilst I was away over the weekend.

But hooray for golf balls! Sweet relief! I might even head out for a good run tomorrow. I've missed it. My PT has set me a 17k in two weeks time. Longest run ever. Eek!

Done and Dusted - Run Melbourne 2014

For the 24 hours leading up to the Run Melbourne I was antsy - almost like that feeling you get the day before scheduled surgery.

Whose ridiculous idea was this anyway?

I had to keep reminding myself that this was something I wanted to do! I don't know what it is about event running that sends me into feelings of dread. I mean, I run three times a week on average. I have run a distance of ten kilometres many times. Heck, I've even run more than ten kilometres several times!

There's just something about the official-ness of an event that is somewhat daunting and does my head in.

Despite how nervous I felt I still rocked up at the starting line on Sunday. When I arrived the Half-Marathon was well underway. I stayed at the starting line and watched those amazing runners stream past, keeping my eyes peeled for my friend and personal trainer, Kara. Honestly, I didn't think I'd spot her amongst the thousands of faces, but I managed to spot her, screamed her name and jumped up and down like a loon in the hopes that she'd see me so I could give her some encouragement and support. She did and she smiled through the grimaces of pain. I found out afterwards that she was on her second lap and was feeling all the feels.

Soon it was time to line up with all the other 10k participants. I was amongst the first pack to head out as I needed to get started to get to another appointment on time! The starting bell went off at 9:15am and we got underway.

I normally hate the first three kilometres of a run and this time was no exception. It's my warm up time and it's like my body says, "Woman, are you serious? Are we doing this again?"

"Why yes," I answer myself. "Yes we are."

"Hmph!" says my body, grudgingly. "Ok then."

Between four and eight kilometres I settled in. I was running a good pace. I felt good. My legs were sore but coping well and I'd found a rhythm I was comfortable with. Even the hills were ok. I utilised the down hill runs to make up some time but even then I discovered that there's an element of control that has to be employed so that I didn't lose control and lose my balance. It was during this time that I happened to hear a cheery and excited, "Leisa!" from the sidelines and when I looked I saw Laura, my massage therapist, cheering and waving.

People, do you know what it does to a runner to see a familiar face in the crowd? It is so encouraging and for me it seems to lessen the aches. Laura's cheering spurred me on for the next couple of k's. As I ran other runners would pass me and look back and say, "You're doing great! Keep going!"

I love the cameraderie amongst runners. As my sister would say, "They're my people!"

At eight kilometres I hit a wall where I lost some sense of reality.

"What? Why? Whose crazy, sadistic idea was it to do this anyway? I hurt! This hurts! I want to go home. Am I really doing this?"

Just after the 8km mark we had to run through a covered footbridge next to the Rod Laver Arena. As I made to exit the bridge I felt very dizzy and unsure of my feet. I slowed down thinking that I was experiencing something really serious. It wasn't until I stopped that I realised the bridge was moving! It was some kind of suspension bridge that was moving with the sheer weight of the runners!

At the nine kilometre mark an official encouraged us, "One more kilometre to go guys! You can do this!" 

As soon as I came down the straight into Birrarung Marr I spotted the blue of the finish line. A wave of adrenaline hit. I actually sped up! My strides lengthened and I felt this surge of energy as I actually sprinted to the finish line. My eyes scanned the crowd for my family but alas, they didn't make it on time. As I crossed the finish line this figure hurtled at me from my left. It was Kara, congratulating me. It was over. I'd done it.

After I'd reunited with my family and we were making our way back to the station, a lady stopped me and asked if I was the person she'd seen running and asked what distance I'd completed. I said I was and I'd completed the 10km. She was so encouraged to see me running and wanted to tell me so. I thanked her and gave her a big hug. I don't know why. It just seemed like the right thing to do. We runners kind of share something special I guess, so hugging a complete stranger is nothing unusual.

My official time was 1:25:56. Not by PB but I'm happy. I think slowing down for water (necessary) and stopping on that bridge affected my time.

Why do I do it?

Because once upon a time, running saved my life and it continues to do so, even when it hurts and even when I don't want to. The road is always there for me and there's always more road to explore. Running slows things down and makes me take one day at a time.

I'm glad I found it. It helped me find me again.

A personal, public victory.

I'm a private person really.

(Says she who writes a blog)

OK, so let's define this properly. Maybe its not that I'm private as much as it being difficult to be out in public sometimes. Up until I launched into this running caper I did have an aversion to doing anything out in public that would draw any extra attention to myself.

It wasn't always that way. I never used to give it all much thought really. Of course I knew that staring, double takes and comments went on but I kind of just accepted it all as part and parcel of this whole gig and was pretty good at just getting on with it.

Then I had a really rough few years where a number of incidents dealt me with severe personal blows and I found that everything I ever felt about myself and everything I ever believed in came crashing down in one chaotic mess. My self esteem took an incredible blow and I became very unsure of myself and my place in the world.

In my traumatized state I felt very...on display. I can't describe the feeling any better than that. I felt like a fool, a joke, and that everyone out there had been laughing at me for years and I simply hadn't noticed. I wanted to be invisible so I could get on with the task of putting myself back together again, but I couldn't because this achondroplasia thing guaranteed that any form of trying to be invisible in public was not going to happen. As a result I stopped anything that would bring me too much attention - public speaking, performance, getting out on a dance floor, even bringing along a plate of food to share at a function would cause me incredible anxiety.

Then, somehow, I discovered running. At first I only did circuits of the reserve across the road from my house. Initially this was confronting for me as it was a public place, so I made sure that I went over there as early as possible so there wouldn't be many people. Running over there was my safe place. I was alone. I was OK. Eventually as summer came there would be more people out and about early...but by this time, running had started to reawaken my confidence. The early morning joggers and dog walkers started to become "my people" and I began to greet them with a cheery "Good morning!".

Leisa was coming back.

I entered my first Fun Run. This was a challenge because I knew I'd be running in the city with all those people! However there were enough people around for me to feel kind of safe in a sense. Only the people immediately around me would notice me...and I could deal with that. Doing my first Run for the Kids was my first big public challenge...and I survived it.

I still prefer running early and with as few people around as possible but if it doesn't happen it's no big deal. There are times when I won't run, like when there's a crowd over at the reserve watching the local  junior football and cricket teams - I avoid that kind of attention - but for the most part I'll get out there whenever I can fit a run in.

Last night I reflected upon all this as I changed into my running gear after work and took a run around Albert Park Lake in the city. Here I was, at 4:30pm at the beginning of peak hour traffic, running around one of the more public tracks in Melbourne where the actual track runs parallel to some of the busiest roads. How far I have come! It's a given that I would have been noticed by other commuters. Heck! I even notice the runners as I drive past the lake. Once I even noticed another short statured runner! But the joy of running vastly outweighs any self consciousness I feel. When I finished the 5k circuit I felt triumphant - not just because I'd finished the run with my best time yet, but because I felt I'd had such a personal victory...and it was achieved in public...where it possibly had the most impact for me.

Distance, Time and Preparedness

I read quite a lot about running these days. I guess it's something everyone does when they're really into something. You research it, glean insights from others, inform yourself with the latest research and apply what you learn to your own experience.

I read about how to hydrate and fuel myself properly, stretching, cross training, tapering, timing, shoes, cramps, blisters, the benefits of running trails, hills, taking it easy, pushing myself, preparing myself mentally.

The big thing most runners seem to talk about is times - improving them, beating your own PB, when to push yourself, being confident.

It's something I am trying to focus on with my own running. I'd like to get better times and run faster. I have a 10 km run coming up on July 27 and I would really like to do it in 1hr 15min. I kind of need to as I have a performance straight afterwards!  To date my best time for a 10 km distance is 1 hr 23 min.  I'm really going to have to push it, aren't I? Considering that I also have to tackle Anderson St which is a nasty, nasty hill I'm wondering if I've set the benchmark too high.

Anderson St. I would rather run up the Bolte Bridge - and that's saying something!

But honestly,  for the most part, timing doesn't really bother me too much. It probably should,  but it doesn't.  When I enter into these races my entire focus is on finishing them; to see that finish line ahead of me and know that I've done it. I've achieved a goal I set myself. That seems to be the most important thing. Once I've done it and survived and I know it's achievable then my thoughts turn to doing it faster.

The Run for the Kids 15 km this year was all about survival...and honestly that was what it felt like. It was hard. I couldn't believe how hard it was. Now that I've done it though and I know that I can, next year it will be all about beating my time. I did it in 2 hours and 20 minutes this year. Can I get it down to 2 hours by next March? That's the goal I've set.

To do that, I know that I'll have to complete a half - marathon between now and then. It's mind game you see. If I do a half - marathon then a 15km Fun Run will be a walk in the park. They're the kinds of mental games I play. Like, when I did my first 5km Fun Run I had to make sure that I had run a distance of 8km so that when I lined up at the start I mentally knew that I could do it.

The flip side of all that is that when I have achieved a certain distance it becomes like a benchmark and any distance under that feels like slacking off. I do it with swimming too. Up until last Tuesday I was swimming 30 laps of a 50 metre pool. My PT challenged me to up it to 35. I was really reluctant to because my mind said, "Once you do 35 laps then you'll have to KEEP doing 35 laps every single week or else anything under that will be....failing."

(I only just realized that was the word as I wrote it.)

I'm very aware of the fact that after completing the Run for the Kids in March I haven't run a distance of 15 km since. I've run 11 km and that's the longest distance, despite setting a goal of 16 km into my RunKeeper pretty much straight after the R4K. To be honest though, I've found it difficult being dedicated to distances since the changing of the seasons and the fewer daylight hours. My optimum running time is 6 am but with the coming of winter it's still pitch black at that time. I'm going to come out and say it...I don't like running in the dark. I watch the News.....

So...I guess winter has given me the opportunity to concentrate on my times as I get out there later in the morning and only have a limited time to run before getting ready for work. Fast fives really are fast fives. At the moment I'm concentrating on maintaining bursts of speed, controlling my breathing and technique.  Working with my PT has made me aware of the muscles I need to fire up to give me power and to maintain my posture. I've learned the value of recovery.

I still struggling with the false idea that I'm slacking off. I think that's the residual rubbish from the patterns set down by the old eating disorder many moons ago...but I cannot deny the results in the mirror and, most importantly, the general feeling of strength and wellness that is consistently mine these days.

Winter

Winter is well and truly here. With it has come shorter daylight hours and longer nights. As a result, it's still dark when my alarm wakes me at 5:30 am. It's even dark at six. Call me a wuss but I'm not too crazy about running the streets when it's still dark, even in the morning. This means that I usually wait until 6:30 or 7:00am before I hit the road and that puts me behind the eight-ball if I want to do a good run and still get to work on time. Good runs during winter usually get postponed until the weekend, otherwise it's fast fives and sprints which I absolutely loathe. I'm trying to like them, but the feeling of out of control breathing at the moment is not my most favorite thing.

The only time I really get out early in the morning is on a Tuesday when I go swimming. I'm normally in the pool at 6:00am and then out again an hour later. Swimming makes running feel like a walk in the park.

I'm trying to remember what I did last winter and the winter before. Was there lots of running? How did I stay fit? What do all you other runners do? To compensate I'm walking to the train station, catching an earlier train and then walking the 2km from the station in the city to my workplace. I guess anything is better than nothing, right?

This body shape has changed. I'm getting used to having legs like tree trunks. Sometimes the muscle underneath my skin surprises me. I catch a glimpse in the mirror and the leanness of my torso catches me off guard.  I eat like a horse. I love to eat breakfast after a morning run. It's like the best food ever invented. I'm surprised sometimes at the volume of food I can pack away.

I often say that one of the best things about running and swimming is how I feel when it's over - when the heart is still pounding and the muscles are aching, and you know you're done. It's over. You can rest. Adrenaline is still pumping and I feel so good, so alive, so invigorated.  That's the feeling I'm addicted to. That's the drug I keep coming back to. And it's like I've conquered something, achieved something, beaten something.

My next race will be a 10 kilometer run in July. I know I'm ready. I can't wait.

A little rain never hurt anyone...

This morning I felt a bit mean...and I guess slightly nuts. As I headed off to my personal trainers house at the ungodly hour of 5:30am for a 6am start it was dark, cold and rainy. When I arrived at our meeting point I noticed a text, asking if I wanted to continue in the rain. I did. Two minutes later my PT arrived and I made the poor woman stand out in the cold, in the rain, with a back injury as she took me through some hills work.

Now that I'm back in the warmth of my house I'm feeling mean. Sorry K. What a crazy moo I am. Is this called dedication and commitment or is it just downright crazy obsession? I guess it's a fine line, right? 

My body has changed a lot. It's lean. Possibly a little too lean. I don't know. I see ribs and bones and I'm not sure if that's a good thing or what? K wants me to put on some muscle weight so I'm drinking protein shakes. The dormant ex-ano side of my brain kind of cowers at the idea of putting on weight but the louder, well side knows it's a good thing. It means health and strength. I know this. Still, the ano-voice still whispers and I don't like it.

In other news I am having an enforced day off today. Last week I booked my car in for today to have its 30,000km service. I'd sorted it all out to have it dropped off at the Ford Service Centre by 8am and then I'd make it to the train station in time to catch the 8:42am into work. 

I didn't count on there being a fire at Richmond train station last night, causing today's train services into complete and utter chaos. Most if not all trains on my line have been cancelled. So...you know...I have to be home today. I am so "devastated" I think I might throw myself a party to cheer myself up!

You know what they say, "The best laid plans of mice and men..." and all that jazz!

Spurred on!

Ok, I have to admit that since taking on this whole running thing I've doubted myself at times.

Before I ran the 15k Run for the Kids I was scared...and I had to argue with myself to actually do it. Part of me was saying, "You don't have to run you know. You've paid your entry fee. That's all they need. It can be your contribution to the Good Friday Appeal. You don't actually have to show up."

But I showed up, ran it and survived it. And I'm so glad I did.

Now Kara and I are in training for a half marathon. That's 21.1km in case you're wondering. That distance seems.....daunting.

After that we'll head into training for a marathon. That's 42.19km.

Just looking at that number seems enormous....but I have to remember that once upon a time a full lap around the reserve across the road from my house seemed enormous too.

I don't know if I'll be the first woman with dwarfism in Australia to run a marathon. I'm interested to find out. I do know however that there have been other people with dwarfism who have ran in and completed marathons.

Over the past 24 hours though I have gained inspiration from three athletes who all ran the Boston Marathon. These three athletes have different forms of dwarfism. I was particularly interested in the running career of Juli Windsor who became the first woman with dwarfism to complete the famous Boston Marathon.

Image credit

You can read about Juli's story in this article in The Marietta Daily Journal.

As soon as I saw Juli's photo and read about her run I thought, "Right! That's it! I can do it!"

(My kids know I mean serious business when they hear, "Right! That's it!")

Danh Trang and John Young also competed in this years Boston Marathon. Unfortunately John had to pull out in the middle of the race due to illness (unrelated to his stature) however I am sure he would have completed it otherwise.

Wow. Just wow I tell you! I know I can now. Not even my age is going to stop me. I've got a good 15 - 20 years on these guys too. Bring it on.

Ain't nothin' gonna stop us!

Time! Time! Whose got the time?

You know things have stepped up a notch when you decide you'll have an easy week and just do a couple of 5k runs.

Just because you're taking it easy.

I still find it all ridiculously amusing to be honest. A five kilometre run...easy. Weird!

Anyway, I've decided to work on improving my times now. Yesterday morning I experimented by setting goals every five minutes using my RunKeeper app. After 5 minutes I'd run 600m - which for me is a pretty good pace - so I set my next goal to be at at least 1.2k after the next five minutes...then 1.8k...and so it went. (This is also working on my appalling maths skills!) I maintained that pace throughout the run and ended up with an average pace of 8.09m/k for a distance of 5.72km. It took me 46min 36sec. Fastest time ever.

What I was surprised by was my body's ability to maintain a steady, faster pace and then it's ability to go faster when I could see the end in sight.

I think I'm fitter than I realise. 

Run for the Kids 2014

In High School if anyone told me that as an adult I would actually love running I would have laughed in their face.

In High School I actively avoided the Cross Country. I think I went in it once, maybe twice - once in Year 7 then again in Year 8. I don't know how I got out of it in the other years. 

I used to dread, dread, dread compulsory Physical Education classes in Years 7-10. Those first few weeks of the year were always spent on fitness tests and for those first few weeks my muscles would be screaming out in agony after enduring shuttle runs and burpees and jumping jacks and all those other kinds of exercises that made a very unfit teenager very self-conscious. Doing those running laps around the perimeter of the school was, for me, torture. 

I guess it was more about my lack of self-esteem and a negative body image than anything. Oh to go back and tell that young girl a thing or two!

Yesterday I lined up with over 35,160 other Melburnians who participated in the annual Run for the Kids Fun Run. (surely they use the word "fun" very loosely!) I couldn't help but smile at the irony. Me, who used to avoid running like the plague, lining up to run 15km. Who'd have thunk it?

Run for the Kids is a charity close to my heart. Over the past 28 years my family and I have gotten to know the Royal Children's Hospital intimately. We've been through Genetics, Bone Dysplasia, Orthotics, Orthopaedics, X-ray, MRI, Clinical Photography, Neurology, Neurosurgery, Scoliosis, Spinal Clinics, ENT Specialists, Physiotherapy, Social Work, Emergency and Intensive Care. We've waited in waiting rooms, paced the corridors, played in the Starlight Room, slept by bedsides, lost the plot in Emergency, cried with other parents. We've met the most incredible people. We're on first name basis with many doctors who have watched us grow up and then watched our children grow up. We've educated them about our conditions as much as they have been there to take care of us. 

The champions are the nurses who have been there for us day and night when we have been admitted to any ward. They are the frontline warriors who become your friend, your comfort when everything is unfamiliar and sometimes scary. They sit and talk to a child when they're feeling sad or afraid or sore. They explain things in words children can understand. They make a cup of tea for anxious parents. They help keep us sane. 

To give back to such a wonderful place of caring and healing just goes without saying for me. I was grateful this year to have a friend running too. 

Pre-race selfies are a prerequisite! Kara (my trainer) and me!

Kara and I had been training for the 15km course for months. In spite of this, it was rough. My whole aim was to finish it and finish well. I didn't care about my time. It was all about getting it done. 

The memories of our 28 years with the Royal Children's Hospital were what kept me going - through the Domain Tunnel, over the Bolte Bridge and then back into the city via Docklands, Harbour Esplanade, Collins St, Spencer St, Southbank, through the Alexandra Gardens and then back on to St Kilda Road to the finish line. For a short while I ran with a staff member from the RCH. She was as tall as I am short. She said I looked familiar and I told her that all of my four children had been inpatients and outpatients at the Children's. I told her that she looked familiar too. She said she worked in Radiology and MRI, so undoubtedly we have crossed paths more than once. We've spent a lot of time there. It was good to run with someone for a while. We kind of kept pace with each other up that excruciating hill that is the Bolte Bridge. 

To say I was hurting when I crossed the finish line would be an understatement. 

Photo courtesy of Kara.

But I did it. I finished it. And, unlike my results in PE at school.....I didn't come last. I don't care that it took me over two hours to do it. Once upon a time I didn't think I'd be able to walk 15km let alone run it! I'm in awe of Craig Mottram - former Olympian and World Championship medallist - who completed the 15k in 44 minutes. Who does that? I can't even......what? 

Next year I'll do it again. Next year it will be all about getting a better time. This year I wanted to see if I could do it. I think I've answered that question.

Thanks to the four most incredible human beings on this planet who continue to be my source of strength every day. Sarah, Chloe, Tim and Georgia - you are my reason. You kept me going when every muscle screamed at me to stop. I would run to the ends of the earth for you.

And thanks to Kara, an awesome friend who generously trains me probono, who believes I can and sometimes pushes me harder than she'd push someone else because she knows there's strength down there that I'm not even aware of. I'm so grateful for that. 

What lies beneath

Image credit

I had a good introductory session with my PT today -  a warm up jog around the lake, lunges uphill, pole squats, sprints, core work, stretching. It was good. K says I have good muscle structure, which was pleasing to hear. She identified some weaknesses that we're going to work on. Wednesday morning workouts are going to be concentrating on cardio fitness. Saturday mornings will be full body training. I'm looking forward to it. It's so good to be training with someone who will correct my posture as I exercise and pull my body into alignment so I get full benefit from each. Due to my body mechanics there are stretches that are totally ineffectual if I do them on my own. There's just not enough length in my bones to stretch out the muscles that are just the same as yours but confined to a smaller scaffolding.

I have a feeling though that this training is going to bring things up that are lurking below the surface. As K was telling me to sprint the last legs of each circuit I heard myself saying, "But I can't run fast!" As she encouraged me to run on my toes, not letting my heels strike the ground I felt stupid and said, "I can't! I don't know how!" I felt stirrings of being back at school again and being the slowest, the least fit, finishing last and the one that would lose a game. I began feeling embarrassed, apologetic, ashamed.

K did everything right. If she saw me lose balance she'd encourage me to switch on my core, with specific instructions about how to do that. There was a lot of, "Good! That's it! Keep going! Nice balance! You're in the zone! Good focus! You have good muscle structure!"

I needed that...because the urge to be apologetic was strong. And what am I apologetic about??

I don't know.

Maybe I do....I still feel the need to apologise for this "package".

Why?

Tell me when it's over

You know what I love most about exercise?

The moment it stops.

Oh...and the several hours following.

It's not always easy to slip on the running shoes, or pack my bag to head off to the pool. As a matter of fact when that alarm goes off at 5:45am four mornings a week I must hit the Snooze button three times on average. Bed is too warm and comfy and after getting up to the dog twice a night on average I really don't feel like getting up early.

But I do. And when I hit the road I'm still thinking, "Why the hell am I doing this?" But I keep going.

This morning I got that feeling when I faced the pool. I did not want to get in and do lap after lap. They keep the pool at a cooler temperature now. It's not too comfortable getting in.

This morning I did 20 laps of the 50m pool. It's boring. It's exhausting. I think I like running better because I can put on some tunes and zone out or concentrate on my technique or file away thoughts and ideas as I cover the k's. But swimming? Lap after lap of boring.

But that feeling after it's done? That's what makes it all worth it. That feeling of all your muscles having worked hard. The adrenaline is pumping, my head is clear. I feel pumped and ready for action. I get home and fix myself some breakfast and it tastes like the most delicious food on the planet. I feel so good after I've eaten.

My mood is lifted and there's a feeling of goodwill towards everyone. Plans are made with the rest of the family and they see me go off to work happy. It's easier to give out to them because I feel energised.

And that's why getting up early and pushing through the barrier of I don't wanna! is worth it. I feel alive.

Motivation

She will be the motivation that will keep me on the road. She has scrimped and saved to be able to purchase a car. A car suitable for the modifications she needs to be able to transport her wheelchair and allow her to drive.

The modifications cost twice the price of the car. The government only funds a maximum of $10,000. 

So, for a young lady with a beautiful soul I will cover the kilometres so that she will be able to.

The Plan with a life of it's own

So, I mentioned yesterday that I'm hatching a running plan.

Melbourne to Adelaide. 800km in 30 days to raise awareness for Dwarfism Awareness Month in October. The run would be completed on the first day of the SSPA Convention. 

Little did I know how many people would get behind me and go, "Yeah! Do it! You know you can!" The more this has happened, the more excited I've become. Akash is so willing to come along and film. Voula is behind me 100%. Voula's brother wants to drive a support vehicle. I've had suggestions of a personal trainer who would be interested in training me to get ready. Other people are helping me plan estimated distances per day. I've had people saying they'll support the run financially. I'm going to ask Mum & Dad if they wouldn't mind going on ahead to each day's destination with their motor home & that could be my home base on the road.

It's possible. This could be really, truly possible.

When I went to the chiropractors yesterday Alyssa asked me, "So Leisa...what plans are you hatching this year?"

"Well....." I answered....."Funny you should ask that...." And I launched into the plan.

She was SO enthusiastic and encouraging! "Go for it!" she enthused. "You could do it!"

I wonder if she'd come along to adjust my hip flexors at the end of each day....?

Crazy. This is crazy..... But as I ran 7km in an hour this morning I thought it was well within the realms of possible. Thirty k's a day is achievable. It wouldn't all be done in one hit. I could run ten, have a good break, refuel, stretch, run another ten k's, repeat the rest break, run the final ten.

That could work.

So far no one has told me NO. They may think its crazy. I'd have to agree with them....but no one has said, "You can't."

Not even me.

Mind over matter

Yesterday I did it. I smashed my 12km goal. I ran a total of 12.11km. The first 7km felt great, the next 3km I started to wane, the last 2km were hell.

But I did it. I ran 12km. It may have taken me 1 hour, 48 minutes and 4 seconds, but I did it - at an average pace of 8:56/km. Not bad, considering I dragged the dogs along who, for some part, we're not the most cooperative companions.

In some ways I can't believe it myself. Me, who once upon a time couldn't even run one lap of the school oval. Twelve kilometres! I can't even...what?

I'm setting my sights further now. My mind is already contemplating 15km. Not yet though. I want to be able to run twelve comfortably first. I thought I'd arrived when I hit ten...but now...the sky seems to be the limit and I have fantasies of one morning donning my running shoes and running across Casey county...then to the other side of Melbourne...then back again to the coast...then turning around and running clear across the country to Fremantle...a'la Forrest Gump. Now that would make the news. 

I can see the headlines now:

Woman with Dwarfism runs to promote awareness!

Oh boy, that's got me thinking for Dwarfism Awareness Month - October 2014. Do I dare even contemplate it?

Do I?

I mean, my 2014 theme word is ACTION. 

Why just think about it when you can put it into ACTION?

But first, I think I'll mull this over for a bit.

Holiday projects

I'm at the point in my holidays where I don't know what day it is. In other words, I have reached nirvana, the state of eternal bliss. Time is stretched out before me like an endless sea - well, that's what it feels like to me and I dare you to tell me otherwise! Clothes are selected for comfort instead of style so I spend a lot of time in comfy shorts and well-worn tshirts. Thongs (flip-flops for all you readers from the northern hemisphere!) are optional.

So, I have set myself some goals. First, not pictured, is to finish Chloe's quilt. I've set up my sewing machine in a little corner nook of my room and will determine to finish it before work starts again!

Second, I'll tackle that pile of books! According to Goodreads I only finished three books this year! Shameful! I'm almost halfway through A Clash of Kings so hopefully I'll knock that over in between other projects and when I take a rest in the hammock.

Third I'd like to get that crochet done for a friend!

Fourthly, I'd like to make myself a blanket in red with grey accents. Red is the colour of the moment!

And in between all this I plan to smash my 12km running goal! 

It's going to be a wonderful summer!

The Path

Every morning now it's the same. My alarm sounds at 5:45am. I hit the snooze button twice until I finally drag myself out of bed. My sleep hasn't been total. I'm woken at least twice by my snoring, scratching, six year old Cavalier who needs to go outside. She's not like my former Cav, who went outside, did her business and quickly made her way back in to the warmth. Oh no. This one likes to smell new smells, greet the cats and generally check that all is as she left it.

But still, I wake and don my running gear. It is still dark when I make my way to the reserve. During the winter I have wondered what motivates me to keep doing this? Is it commitment to my fitness, my mental health? Is it a need to doggedly keep trying until I reach the 10k goal? Is it to silence the voices from the past who still whisper with the sinister undertones of the now dormant eating disorder? Or is it simple lunacy? I don't know. Maybe a combination of all of them. I suspect so. But every morning the path calls and I heed it.

I estimate now that I have been doing this for two years. It's become a habit. There are times where I feel I could run and keep on running if not for time constraints. There are others where running my average of 6k is an exercise in endurance from start to finish. Still, the end is always the same. That delicious feeling of a body that feels awake and alive, the blood coursing through my veins and an indescribable feeling of being clean. I don't know what that's about. The end is the reason I run. The high that I suspect is a million times better than the one any chemical can give. The knowledge that I have once again conquered the arguments I put in front of myself. 

Sometimes the run is a lonely place. It's just me there alone in the slumbering, dark neighbourhood. I find the voice of my RunKeeper strangely comforting - the American voice who, every five minutes tells me the time I've been running, the distance and my average pace. I play games with her, trying to increase some numbers and decrease others. She's become a bit of a motivating friend, better than any personal trainer. She doesn't yell at me to do better or go faster. She just gives me the facts. It's my own voice that urges me on, saying, "Keep going! You can do this! Stop complaining! You know this is the hard bit and it gets easier! Don't be lazy!"

The impossible has happened. Several years ago my doctor said he wanted me to get back to my pre-pregnancy weight. At the time I thought he was dreaming. I was only 19 when I was first pregnant and I thought that asking a 40-something year old woman to get back to the same weight as her 19 year old self was beyond the realms of possibility. But I did. I've lost 6kg and I'm here. I used to think that kilos weren't really heavy but I was carrying a 3kg bag of oranges the other day and marvelled at the weight of it. I've lost two bags of oranges! Remarkable!

I don't know where this running will take me. At the moment I don't care. I hope one day I'll get to the 10k goal. I remember how elated I felt the first time I ran my first full kilometre - a whole circuit of my running track. I guess it's simply a case of adding just one more circuit until I get there. It's achievable. I know it.

Call me crazy but...

Image credit

I cannot begin to tell you how much I love running.

It's actually really surprised me how much I enjoy it. 

Despite the fact that my morning alarm wakes me too early at 5am and the night seemed to have flown by, I love the feeling of putting on my gear and my shoes, grabbing my iPhone and earphones, clicking on RunKeeper and heading out the door in the quiet of the morning, where it's still dark and most of the world hasn't yet woken.

I usually do a warm up walk for about a kilometre. Then I stretch out my hip flexors as advised by my chiropractor. Then I start running.

The first wall hits within the first 200 metres. I wonder if it will be today that I give up and say that it's all too hard. I argue with my mind and body. 

"Come on! You know this is the first wall. It always happens. Push! It will get better!"

Then comes a shuddering breath and I'm through.

This morning's run was....dare I even say it....a pleasure? I didn't think it would be. I was all geared up for it to be a slog. Hormonally I'm headed into a rough patch. Apparently my hips kind of lock up as I head towards my period and this is the week it normally happens. It didn't. I hadn't even really planned to jog. Just a brisk walk. But when I got down to the reserve a kilometre down the road (well, actually it's just under 800m) I did a stretch and started....and ran......and the wall wasn't too bad....and I kept going and going and going.

The second wall hits around 3.5km in and I slow down a bit but today it wasn't too bad and I kept going through it, enjoying the rhythmic pounding of feet on pavement. My breathing had managed to find a steady, easy rhythm. My mind felt clear and I let it meander around my thoughts and clear out some of the cobwebs.

I finished off the last kilometre with a lap around the reserve across the road from my house. Normally the last 200m are a nightmare with my muscles screaming for the end. Not today. As I approached the end I thought, "I really could do another lap!" but I didn't because of time constraints. Maybe next time.

I jogged a total of 5km and walked 0.94km at an average of 9.13min/km.  It felt great. I got home and devoured breakfast. Running makes me hungry.

I registered for the 5.5km course for Run for the Kids yesterday. I think I'm ready.