My Charity Run Challenge

On August 30 2022 I started my charity challenge run. 1000 miles in 12 months, what could go wrong?

Now I have plantar fasciitis – achy feet. It turns out when you run 100 miles in 8 months, you wear down your trainer soles a lot quicker than with walking, and then they do not protect your feet from the concrete.

The first month I ran a mile a day and my longest run was 9 miles. I went from struggling to run a mile to having so much stamina that I didn’t get tired until I had run 7 miles. My heart beat more efficiently, so I had to run further and faster to get the same health benefits, as my heart rate did not increase as much. My calves became more muscular so my leggings became tight and I had no problems with my weight, dropping a dress size.

I had bought the best pair of trail run trainers (off-road) and road running trainers that I could. I ran so much that I needed a new set of clothes for it while the others were waiting to be washed. I started out doing it properly – mixing in resistance training to keep my muscles strong and incorporating rest days for my muscles. I built up the mileage gradually.

By March I got lazy and my mileage dropped. Then in April, after a month of not doing anything, I was walking to work when I got achy shins, and then they ached for two weeks while I rested. After that, I went to see the coronation, eventually getting to see it on a screen in Hyde Park. We walked for over 12 miles trying to get past Buckingham Palace cordons to our hotel on the other side, in Westminster. Eventually I asked a policeman, who said that you couldn’t get past the palace on foot either in front or behind it, you could only get past it on the Tube.

I tried one run when I got back and that was fine, but my feet ached after it. My feet were sore after netball, and then, one day, I had to turn back after a mile. Then I couldn’t stand for hours in a museum without the aches and a new very mild stabbing pain. It had become chronic. I took ibuprofen, which then aggravated my IBS, but no pain no gain.

Why did I take on the challenge? Because I had to focus on a project after suffering an ectopic pregnancy in June 2022. Whilst the physical aspect of it was over fairly quickly, the psychological aspect took longer to heal from. All my brain knew was that I was pregnant and then I wasn’t, so it processed it as if a baby had died, rather than a bunch of cells disintegrating.

There was no support for the psychological impact from the NHS – you only get that after three miscarriages. This makes no sense, as I would probably be more prepared should it happen again. I had no idea what was happening with me and how it would progress, and NHS staff had no time to tell me either, one nurse did not know. For me, knowledge is power, and The Ectopic Pregnancy Trust gave me that, the power to understand what on earth was happening to me, and why.

So what have I learnt from my running challenge so far?

• Check the soles of your trainers and replace them when they wear down.
• Use a fitness tracker watch to easily track your miles/kilometres and heart rate.
• Get gait analysis if possible to work out whether your running style means you need a particular type of support in your trainers. Some running shops do this. You can also work out whether your foot rolls on impact by checking the soles of your trainers.
• Mix in resistance work (weights).
• Include rest days.
• Try and include most of your running on mud, grass or gravel. This has less impact on your muscles and bones than concrete or tarmac and means you will be less likely to get an injury.
• Ensure you have enough running outfits, and have cold and warm weather ones.
• Use a foam/plastic roller on your calves after your run. This helped me avoid injury.
• If you get an injury, rest until it is healed. You can keep your stamina up by doing non-impact exercise such as cycling or swimming.
• It is amazing for your mental and physical health.
• Build up the mileage slowly, it is ok to start small.
• See your GP if you experience any injuries or aches that do not resolve with rest.

I have experienced a better quality of life from doing more exercise.

Listen to your body and once the stamina kicks in you’ll enjoy it more.

Until then, enjoy the feeling after you run, the relaxation, contentment and sleeping better.

A Sardinian September

Booking a holiday during a pandemic is fraught. Will I have to cancel? Will I get my money back?

We had booked Rome for March. Obviously we couldn’t go. We booked France for June and that also wasn’t an option, as my boyfriend can’t isolate with his work. Then we booked Sardinia for September. Third time lucky?

The company, Much Better Adventures, kept us updated with the Covid rules at our destination and we were able to go.

I was so excited. How had we managed to escape England in the middle of a pandemic?

We didn’t even need to get a Covid test as there was an outstanding appeal on the rule. Surprisingly there were no controls at the Italian airport at all. We appeared to be the only passengers around and the arrivals hall was empty.

Sardinians were very relaxed. They didn’t really bother to social distance, they could still spend time in large family groups, laughing at chatting. Although they were supposed to wear a mask outdoors, most of them didn’t bother. We only saw two policemen, one was on his phone and the other was more interested in us crazy tourists than any crime.

It was a refreshing change from the panicky Brits, dashing about and glaring at anyone who coughed.

We arrived a day or two before our scheduled activity in Alghero and went swimming at a lovely local beach. Unfortunately it was so popular that the only spot to stop at was a bit of rock in the sea. The snorkelling was pathetic after The Philippines (which is said to have some of the best snorkelling in the world). I only saw a few brown and grey coloured fish. Then a massive dark cloud raced towards us and soon enough it emptied its contents, leaving the sunbathers sprinting for the car. Of course as Yorkshire folk we saw it coming and were nearly home and dry before any of the Italians even moved.

We went on a delightful boat tour round the islands. The snorkelling was rubbish again, it was hardly worth bothering. I really want to return to The Philippines to see the kaleidoscope of rainbow coral, fish and the giant clams. One day.

We were going for a sea kayaking holiday with Much Better Adventures. We had a lovely American guide who had made the island his home. We stayed in a lovely hotel that did dinner, on a farm. The kayaking mostly got rained off, but we got one day of good weather where we could try it.

Unfortunately I had just been diagnosed with Graves disease so I was pretty tired, but I could sleep for an hour or so before dinner. The doctor had said I could go if I took it easy, as I was still on medication to keep my heart rate low. The guides were great about it and told me to let them know if I was struggling. I managed to kayak out and then had to kayak and rest, kayak and rest to get into the nearest bay to be picked up. Luckily we had a double kayak so my boyfriend did most of the work with his ex-rower biceps.

The scenery was beautiful – sun sparkling on bright blue waves, cliffs with scrubby bushes and trees everywhere, the odd beach or 16th century watch tower. The island to the left of Italy was covered in mountains and trees. There were no queues for anything and the “main tourist street” was empty.

Bosa castle

We explored the town of Bosa, where all the houses were painted bright colours and they had a small red brick castle on the hill, built in the 1100s. It had some fantastic wall paintings from around that era that they had found in the chapel. The colours shone depicting angels, saints and apostles.

We also explored some of the towns and had ice cream almost every day, as they make such great flavours with their Mediterranean fruit. Our guide said it was sad how the main tourist street in the town was now empty, and that many people were going to lose their livelihoods.

We marvelled at museums full of ancient artefacts, dating from 4000BC, from before the Iron Age. They had the Nuragic people, unique to Sardinia, who built spectacular sacrifice monuments out of dark big stone blocks. They also knew how to cast in bronze, fashioning lots of warrior, shaman and mother and child figures and statues. The island had then been conquered by the Phoenicians, the Greeks, the Romans and the Vandals.

We visited some vast ruins near the sea. One, Nora, was established by the Phoenicians as a trading post and still had towering white Greek-style pillars and mosaics and the ruins of Roman temples and baths. The Romans had abandoned it when they were attacked from the sea, during the period where the empire was crumbling.

Another was originally a Nuragic settlement (tribes who lived on Sardinia for 600 years around 4000BC). You could tell where the Romans had built on top with their paler stone and bricks, and it still had a Roman road. Both sites were still being dug up by archaeologists.

A Nuragic animal sacrifice monument from 4000BC, complete with an obelisk (out of shot on the left).

We returned refreshed and victorious that against all odds, we had made it abroad, with no quarantine being imposed in our absence.

Wheely Loving Life

At the moment it feels like I am zooming downhill on the road of life, enjoying the wind in my hair with only a few bumps ahead.

Everything is going well and I have finally lost the weight I accumulated six months ago.

I realised I had to do something when I went up a dress size and was forced to bulk-buy so I had enough work clothes, sending me into my overdraft this month.

So how did I lose weight?

I love food but I tried to cut down on sugar, especially after my dentist said I had acid erosion.

I also increased my exercise intensity and frequency. Instead of going to the gym once a week, I went two or three times a week.

I started cycling to work more often. Then I bought a cheap fold-up bike from my local Halfords in the sales. I had not realised how heavy it was and lugging the 14kg box the half an hour to the bus stop was an ordeal.

This lovely little fake Brompton means I can commute to work when half the day is dry and then carry it on public transport when it rains. The bus driver was not impressed but I just smiled sweetly and thanked him profusely. I ensured I kept it secured and out of the way of passengers.

I try to do some exercise every day.

Copyright literarlydi

I have increased the number of netball matches I help out with. I used to play in one every few weeks. Now I play up to three matches a week, actively volunteering rather than waiting for an invite. The practice means I can now run faster and defend better.

I love the game because of its fast pace, the intensity, the fine footwork, the challenge and the thinking involved. Helping to get the ball in the net is such a boost. I don’t even realise I’m doing exercise when all my attention is fixed on the blurry ball as it arcs from player to player.

On the weekend I go for at least one long bike ride. I am lucky that I live near the Peak District, so I pedal out to local beauty spots or to villages and back.

I love the sense of freedom and admiring nature’s beauty, enjoying the breeze cool your face. When you whizz downhill and lean over the handlebars it feels like you’re flying.

I like to stop at little cafes at the furthest point of my journey as that helps me stay motivated on the hills. Then I take in the scenery whilst sipping lemonade and enjoying a slice of cake. I don’t have to feel guilty about it either because I burn around 880 calories and zero fossil fuels on a 25 mile round trip.

Remember, cars run on money and make you fat, but bikes run on fat and save you money!

Think about your week. How could you increase the amount of exercise you do?

 

A Little London Trip

Last week I had the pleasure of a paid trip to London.

I made the most of the last evening and morning there by seeing my cousins and visiting the National Gallery.

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Looking at masterpieces from around the United Kingdom is always enjoyable and there is always something to catch the eye of someone creative such as myself.

Copyright literarylydi. Can you guess what famous painting this is and the artist?

I almost always forget my sketch book. Once again, I bought one. I only had an hour. I just managed to do a quick sketch in that time. When I finished and put the book down, I heard a collective gasp from a group of school kids age 6-7. “How did you do that?!!” a girl asked. “Practice”, I replied. “You can do art like this if you practice.” Another girl said “I have loads of sketches in my art book”. “Keep practicing!” I said, “it’s a lot better than watching TV”. Hopefully I inspired a future artist. I wanted to go to art school after sixth form, but my mum persuaded me that it was not a stable career and I am grateful for her for encouraging me to pursue a more stable existence.

I dislike the stress, rudeness, noise, crowded and polluted conditions in London. People would push past you constantly, even if there was plenty of room. Time is money and everyone has somewhere to be urgently. Travelling on the tube in the rush hour was an awful experience and made me feel ill. It was hot, smelly, dirty and uncomfortable. I had to jump on and hope people made way for me, it was the only way to travel. I try to walk where I can, it’s a much better experience and there is so much to see. Each area of London has its own identity, a patchwork quilt of little villages, with their own history and culture.

It was a relief to return to my city with it’s clean cool air, smiling people and relaxed atmosphere. It is true that absence makes the heart grow fonder. I was so happy to be home.

Nelson’s Column in Trafalgar Square

My First “Airbnb” Experience

For my birthday I was going to see Prodigy in London with a friend. I was delighted that my cousin had decided to join us.

It was the weekend before the event so there were hardly any places left in the bed and breakfast (bnb) houses we were looking at. Only the expensive or low-rated options were left and the nearest hotel was 5 miles away.

A “B ‘n B” breakthrough

“What can we do?” I asked my cousin “this place only has a single room left! and this one is a bit too expensive isn’t it.”

My cousin would know best as she was an experienced traveller. On a break in between her Masters degree she had gone to Spain spontaneously on her own. She is a student and I am saving for a big holiday (of course I will blog about it) so we are both skint. We had already shelled out £50 for the gig ticket.

“Well…” she replied “when I was in Madrid I stayed in a really nice air bnb place. It was really cheap and overlooking the main plaza! It would have been really expensive to stay at a hotel in that location.”

“What is air bnb?” I asked. I vaguely recollected an advert on it.

“Is it that one where you sleep on people’s sofas? cos I’m not doing that!”

I had spent one night on a sofa and hadn’t slept a wink as I tried to find a way to get my long legs spread out without having the arm of the sofa digging in. There wasn’t enough width to curl up. It was a nightmare and there was no chance of it being a dream. I had emerged from that student house looking like I’d spent the night in a hedge, and that probably would have been more comfortable.

My cultured cousin laughed. “No it’s not that one! Though I think there is one like that. It’s called couch-surfing isn’t it? This is similar but you get a proper bed.”

“A proper bed? isn’t that the same as a proper bed and breakfast then?”

“It’s like that but it’s where someone rents out their spare room. You get to meet lots of different people doing it and the ones I’ve met have all been lovely. You don’t always get breakfast but they’re usually in good locations.”

I was intrigued. The other choices were pretty limited so I thought we should give it a try.

You just needed an email address and password to set up an account and it was free. You could search by country as well as by city.

The places were advertised with a picture of the bedroom with the Google map location on the right. Perfect. We looked and most of the good places were taken but there was one that stood out.

London Luxury

The photograph that I liked featured a beautiful white “Victorian” bathroom with a vintage bath (a new bath in an old style, not a tin one). The house looked modern and spacious for London. Not only that but it was a 10 minute walk from the venue. There was a paragraph or two about the owner, a smiling middle-aged lady who had travelled around Ecuador and liked the theatre. There were good reviews and it wasn’t too expensive.

The house was close to the station and my cousin was already there.

As I walked up to the stained-glass front door I felt a bit nervous. It seemed odd to walk in to a stranger’s house and stay there like one of their friends or family. But my anxiety subsided when our host opened the door and greeted me, grinning from ear to ear.

She was a warm, friendly lady with a healthy glow and a slight tan. She served us tea and sat with us in their airy conservatory with a view onto a verdant garden. There was a little shed at the end and a trellis with flowering plants.

My cousin looked relaxed and had enjoyed a pleasant chat. I had not expected such peace and quiet. But it was a privileged residential area and of course, only parts of (mostly inner) London are chaotic, dirty and noisy.

I felt that I needed a shower on arrival to the house, as I had been on the Tube and became conscious of the grimy soot sticking to me. I couldn’t see it but I could feel it. That and the gig atmosphere turned the bathwater grey the next day.

Double delight

We were amused that we were sharing a double bed. We had dark wooden drawers and a wardrobe to match, with a fluffy turquoise carpet and curtains tied back. I laid down some ground rules – no farting in bed and no trespassing over the middle line. My cousin broke both rules by the next morning.

We got glittered-up for the rave and headed out. We clip-clopped in our heels through the drizzle along rows of tall neat Victorian houses, shivering. Pretty soon we felt rather lost and decided that we would turn back after ten minutes.

“Did you see the pictures in the bathroom?” my cousin asked.

“Yes, interesting weren’t they!” I replied. There had been pictures of the couple in skimpy 1930s-style carbaret outfits with feathers and pearls.

“Do you think they’re swingers?” my cousin giggled.

“No it’s just fancy dress.”

“Yes but there was more than one of them like that.” We laughed.

Fortunately after a 20 minute totter we found the pub our host had directed us too. But as it was 9pm they had closed for food so we went to the takeaway opposite. It took ten minutes but the kofta kebab was well worth it. As we were late we had to eat waiting for a taxi, sheltering under a tree from the relentless rain.

The Gig – Prodigy 

I enjoyed the band, especially the classics that reminded me of student days. Thousands filled the hall with a high ceiling and the lighting was great but unfortunately the sound at the gig was focussed at the front and there were no speakers further back. The sound system was clearly not built or configured for the electronic music either. One of the band did make an effort to remedy this by coming near us to sing (or rather shout, it is that kind of music) on a mini stage in the middle, dreadlocks swinging. Cheers erupted around us as people surged forward. Eyes bulged and hands shot up to follow the beat.

Sweaty beer cheer 

The hyperactive crowd fully compensated for the muffled performance when he went back, as they thrashed around with reckless abandon. Beer flew everywhere and drenched us. The air was thick with the smell of that and foul body odours. Every so often I had to move as I would end up in a cloud of it and I decided that I’d grown out of grunge.

Pint pouring

When my cousin had a pint poured down her she lost it, turning round and shouting at the miscreant. He apologised and moved away. She angrily said to the man behind him “I hope you’re not going to pour that down me too!”. This started a conversation which went very well and she ended up on the bearded bloke’s shoulders waving her arms around.

We rocked out until the early hours, leaving as the orange streetlight sky started to pale. It was about 4 when we finally went to sleep after a hushed chinwag.

Healthy host

Four hours later I was woken by the sound of the front door closing as our healthy host ran to the gym. As you do on a Saturday morning. I was impressed but seriously sleepy and dozed off until an hour before our checkout time. It was a quiet area and we were in a little guest room down our own hallway with our own bathroom at the other end.

After a bath I felt rejuvenated (and much cleaner). We had a nice chat with our host, who was back from her early morning workout, and her husband. They were a good-looking, kind and knowledgeable pair. I felt guilty when I asked her if I had woken her up and she said she had heard the door shut when we came in. She assured me that it was fine and we were very quiet. She said she was a light sleeper.

We left in search of the nearest pub breakfast. As we stumbled along I decided that although I would not be going to a Prodigy gig again, I would definitely be staying with airbnb for my next trip…