Tag Archive for Dad

A Foot to Remember


Well, what a ridiculous day.

First of all, I’m a featured blogger on Healthy Living Blogs today – check out my ‘Day in the Life’ post.

Secondly – BEST finish line face EVAH

Also, I’d like to link you to another Melbourne Marathon race recap – my wonderful twitter friend Lars smashed his goals with a 3:29 in his first marathon. 

Finish line face

 

I am a day late with my post – by the time I got home last night I couldn’t string a sentence together, let alone write my thoughts coherently. I had no idea just how exhausted I was!

Let’s start with Mental Monday, shall we? I am fully aware it’s Tuesday, but just for a tic, and for alliteration’s sake, it’s Monday. Ok?

Mental Monday

Here’s my Mental Monday negative:

I am not going to see Mr The Rake for 12 days.

As much as I laugh at him, I adore him, and not having your best friend around can be tough. Long stretches without him suck. No question.

Instead, I am going to focus on a positive thought:

In 3 weeks, uni will be over. For good. All I have to do is get through.

What’s your Mental Monday (or Tuesday!) moment?

 

The Key

Today I went out for lunch with a friend. Amanda and I went to kindergarten together when we were 4. 20 years later, we can still catch up over lunch and talk about anything.

 

At 1:30pm I caught the bus home. No drama. Dad was heading home at 4 to take me to the airport, and I was going to do some work.

I jumped off the bus (slowly, ever so slowly) and walked home to find that not one of the ten keys Dad had given me fit in the lock on the front door.

I tried them all again. And again.

Nothing.

Everyone can break into their own house. Fact.

At this house, plan B is to jump a fence and get to the back door (to which I had a key).

These legs were up to NO fence jumping today.

With no-one due home for an hour or so (I had to get to the airport), I made a decision. I walked the two kilometres into Diamond Creek, found myself in front of a tattoo parlour, and walked in.

40 minutes later:

Tattoo

Can you figure out the double meaning?

 

Dad called me to tell him he was on his way to pick me up. He asked where I was, and then asked if I’d been to the gym.

No, I’m at the tattoo parlour, on the corner opposite Shell.

Dad is a calm man, and it was clearly too late to discuss this. His response was perfect:

Oh shit.

Immediately followed by

Ok, I’ll be there at 3:20.

He took me home to pack, and as we got out of the car, I handed his faulty keys back. He looked at them for a second, and then put one in the front door.

It opened instantly.

 

Today’s Moment:

Definitely this!

Tattoo

 

Your Turn!

Best impulse decision you’ve ever made?
What’s your Mental Monday Moment?
Have you ever locked yourself out of the house?
The Tattoo has 2 meanings – can you guess them? Answer tomorrow. (Yes, anyone can guess – it’s not a personal one!)

 

Did That Just Happen? (The Melbourne Marathon Race Recap)


Ready for an epic race recap? I’ll do my best not to make it too drawn out ;-)

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Start Line

 

Time to go!

I feel like I could not have been any more prepared for this race. I was ready to go – plenty of carbs, well hydrated, well-rested and feeling … springy.

Some time before 6am, my fabulous Mum and Dad drove me to the MCG (Melbourne Cricket Ground – our huge Melbourne sporting arena) along with my cousin Emily, who was running the 10km.

This was Australia’s biggest marathon in history – 7000 people lined up for the marathon, and 30 000 people participated across all events.

Emily and Kate

Emily and I before the race

All too soon it was time to line up, find the 4 hour pacer, and chat to the people at the start line.

Some douch-bag with a microphone blathered on about pacing and being a smart runner. It may just be me, but seriously, if you aren’t running, shut the hell up.

There were 3 4 hour pacers. I followed the first one I saw. To get through in 4 hours, we needed to run each km at about a 10.6km/h pace.

This guy was running well over 11km/hour.

I dropped back to the second pacer (with Cait on my shoulder telling me to run my own pace and chick ‘em later!) – this guy was also going quickly, but at a very comfortable pace. Until 30km, I think I averaged around 10.7/10.8km/h. Each 10km was around 57 mins.

Time

Finish time and splits

As I moved back, an older man came up behind me:

You aren’t doing much chicking. Looks like you’re getting bloked. 

Stuff ya mate! He wished me luck as he moved on, and just for kicks, I passed a few more blokes.

 

10km

At the 10km mark, I freaked out – my foot was tingling.

What the hell? This was something I hadn’t experienced before. I toyed with the idea of loosening my laces. But reminded myself I had intentionally kept them loose (and tightly knotted!). Passing through a drinks station, I quickly forgot, and after that my feet were totally fine (you know, for someone pounding the pavement for four hours).

I passed some people, and others passed me. There was a lot of luck and lot of smiling.

At this point, my fuel plan was flawless. I wanted a gel at every 8km, and a drink at each station (whatever I felt I needed).

At 16km I was 2 gels down. My stomach twinged, and I figured I should listen to it and let the stuff dilute a bit. I intended to split my gels after this, rather than to take them all at once.

Ready to run

Totally prepared with the gels!

 

20km

The 20km mark was magic – I felt great, I hit the line at 1:53:00 and everything was good. As I hit the half marathon point, I thought of our friend Jes at rUnladylikelast week she ran a half iron-man (you know, a couple of weeks out from her marathon – no biggie Jes!). When she hit the ‘half-marathon to go’ point, she had swum AND just been on an epic ride.

That’s it Kate, imagine jumping off a bike, this is just the beginning of the run – go for it!

And then I got to 23km and everything fell apart.

This is also where we go into TMI.

I have stomach problems, and have had since I was 10. Generally I have them under control these days, but if anything is going to set it off, it’s running.

I downed 2 immodium before even staring the race, but at 23km I had that horribly urgent thought -

I need a bathroom. NOW.

Naturally, as soon as I finally saw a bathroom, the pain went away, and I hit my pace again. I downed my third immodium and moved on.

Gear

I was so prepared for this – oh dear!

At the next drink station, I pulled out my gel.

Nope. It wasn’t going to happen. I was sure that it would be the end of me, my breakfast and my race if I tried to swallow any more. I chucked it aside and hustled to get powerade at the aid station.

 

30km in

Until about 32 or 33km, everything was ok, I was on pace, and apart from an occasional twinge, all was dandy.

However, I knew my wall was coming up, and yet there was no way in hell I could get another gel down. All I could hope for was as much powerade as I could get.

St Kilda Road is a long stretch, and it was a looooong time until I found my drink. By this point I was slowing down dramatically. I was running on empty and I knew it.

I almost got mad at myself, and then remembered all the advice I had going into this – forget about time; just run and enjoy it. I imagined Superwoman urging me on, and I hit the drink station, dumped a cup of water over my head, grabbed some powerade and chugged along.


Oh man it hurt

Around 35km, some poor sod in front of me let one rip in a BIG way. Poor guy, I think he might have sharted (best word ever), and feeling sick, I wasn’t sticking around to find out. I chicked him.

In the high 30s, Mum and Dad were there, cheering me on. It was awesome to see them, knowing that I had run further than I ever had before.

High 30s

Dad photography (thanks Dad!)

All of a sudden, we were in the botanic gardens. Giving up on my 4 hour goal, I just focused on chugging along, one foot in front of the other. Single digits left, one drink station to the next.

Run your own race, go your own pace. 

Then it happened. The terrible choice – run, or follow in the poor sod’s footsteps. I was furious with myself. I looked desperately for a porta-loo, but none in sight.

Instead, I walked for about 200m and concentrated on breathing. A man with the best of intentions encouraged me along – I didn’t have the heart to tell him that if I ran, he did NOT want to be behind me.

 

40km in

I picked it up again, only to have the same thing happen at about 40.3km. I gritted my teeth, had a quick walk, and figured there was a drink station within the next km.

When I first saw the course map, I was shocked that there was a drink station so close to the end.

Holy crap was I glad it was there.

At this point there was no turning back. Somehow, some way, I made it into the MCG.

We had about 300m to run once inside. I thought I had nothing left, but then I saw the clock – 4:08:45. I have no idea why I could push then, but I did. I crossed the line a little after 4:09, and immediately lost the plot. I don’t know what I looked like, but a volunteer grabbed me immediately after I crossed the line. Embarrassingly, she sat me down at the first aid tent, where I was told to sit still and drink slowly.


 

Done!

None of that! I tried to get up as soon as I could, only to find my legs wouldn’t work. With no thought other than ‘get out’, I shuffled down the ramp slower than I thought was possible. I cried.

I looked up, and saw Mr The Rake and Chelsea banging on the glass. I waved, and continued shuffling.

I finally got through the medal carriers, the drink stations and the clothes pick-up (which I didn’t use) and found myself outside.

Mum, Dad, Chels and The Rake were nowhere to be found.

I walked toward the expo, found a doorway, sat down, and bawled. I had nothing left. Nothing.

After what seemed like an eternity I stood up, and shuffled directly into Chels and Mr The Rake. I have never been so glad to see anyone in my life! They had phones. I could sit.

Realising I was in bad shape, they offered the world’s best advice:

You’ve just run a marathon! Feel free to shit yourself. 

I loved them so much at that point (and no, I did not).

 

You know what? I finished. I finished a freakin’ marathon.

Kate and Mum

With Mum at the end

Anyone up for the Gold Coast half next July? Or the Rozelle 10km in December?

Give me a few weeks  - this runnerchick is a runnerchick for life.

 

Thankful, Painful Running

 

A light start

Some crazy good (and hard) things happened today. I plan to tell you all about them, but first, Mr The Rake wants to weigh in. This afternoon, I said what I was thinking (filtering is not a strength of mine) and told him the roof of my mouth was sore.

His response?

Maybe it’s your brain trying to tunnel its way out. 

Right now he’s making spaghetti bolognaise, and it smells amazing. Therefore, he is forgiven. This time.

 

The Run

Thanks for all your tips yesterday! So many great carb ideas (my personal favourites being Jenelle’s get-it-in-ya approach with snakes and gatorade, and a gorgeous recipe for angel-hair pasta (thanks Jill). Francine suggested dates, which are an excellent idea. I’m a bit squeamish about running on dry-fruit fuel, but it sounds as though it’s worth a try.

I carbed-up like a boss yesterday. It worked!

I think this is the first time my bowl of food (left) has been bigger than the Rake’s (right).

Chicken and rice

I’ll be sticking with this as a pre-run food – my body preferred the rice to pasta, no question.

The hardest bit was that I was ‘practising’ for race day, so I set an alarm for breakfast.

Alarms

I’m still disgusted

 

I don’t want any more oats for awhile…

Oats

Mmmm 4am oats (and a sneaky banana)

 

Point is, carbo loading was not all that much fun, and I’m glad I only have to do it once more!

The 32km run happened. And it happened in 3 hours, 9 mins and 54 secs. The last bit was uphill, and I am horrified at how slowly I went for those last few ks! I had D behind me telling me to push on (more on that in a sec), and it was BRUTAL. I know at about 28km I did not want to run a marathon. Ever.

I finally finished, and slowly, slowly made my way up the stairs of our apartment block.

Mr The Rake was so amused that he took a photo

Showering in my clothes

All I wanted was a diet coke and a shower. Only one option was available.

Want to see something gross? Seriously, if you’re squeamish, don’t look…



My personal favourite is this:


 Ok – you can look again!

 

Thank you!

So, a couple of really, really big thank yous are in order – and they will be even more so post-marathon. But I really do owe a LOT to a few people (and there are more of you who need to be thanked. These are just for today :-)

)

 

Dianne

D is my gym manager, and this morning, she took the running group around the bay so I could do my first of 4 laps. She took them back to the gym, and then out to breakfast – where she didn’t eat a thing.

Then, she came back down to the bay as I hit my fourth lap (at 21km) (BTW – first ever half marathon today – Dad – it was 2:02 with lap 1 at marathon pace, and lap 2 at training pace).

She ran kilometres 21-30 with me, and even offered to run back to my house.

I was seriously struggling with the hilly end, and she knew it. She offered support and motivation, told me I was going to be fine, and reminded me that every beginner, ever, had felt the same way on that final hill. I was just feeling what those beginners feel – and if they could do it, so could I. When I tried to respond, I was told not to talk, and to keep my breathing regular.

This woman is incredible. Henceforth, D shall be known as superwoman. Because right now, she’s my super-hero.

She even asked me out for lunch, and gave me a lift when I had a blonde moment and forgot that I didn’t have a car…

 

Brett

Brett, the chiro, also needs his own name here. I’m sure he’ll come up with one for himself at some point! Suggestions please guys – this should be good.

Where I know the physio would have taken me out of the training program by this time, Brett has patiently dealt with every single one of my injuries, taught me how to strengthen my body, told me I would be strong enough to run, and has got me back on track.

Brett is magic man, and when I turned up with a swollen knee this week, he just beat the crap out of it, gave me really effective acupuncture, and told me I was fine to do today’s long run. And you know what? The knee is swollen, but not as bad as after last week’s 16km.

There is no way I’d be running as far (or fast) without his help.

 

Mr The Rake

For putting up with me. You are amazing. Today he went to get the diet coke I was craving (I don’t want to hear it – it was AWESOME) and brought me a protein shake while I stood under the cold water.

That’s love – dealing with sweaty gym clothes, temper tantrums, early nights, long-runs, endless one-way conversations about pacing and interval training…and bringing you protein when you refuse to leave the cool embrace of tiled box.

 

This post is starting to get way too long, so I’ll leave my extra questions for tomorrow. Watch out! I’m going to quiz you – do your math homework and be ready with some Powerade.

 

Today’s Moment

Superwoman’s generosity and support. Hands down.

…Though the old guy who gave me a thumbs up on a busy road at 31km is pretty excellent too.

AND thank you to everyone who has donated so far! We hit the $2000 target today! There’s no cap though ;-)

– you can still donate.

 

Your Turn!

Who supports you when you need it most?
What sports injuries are you prone to?
Do you set multiple alarms?

40 days left, and pink shoelaces

 

Happy Birthday

My Melbourne week ended perfectly, with a huge combined Happy Birthday/Happy Fathers’ Day to my Dad.


Lookin’ sharp

With long run day over, it was important to get into the really important business of cake eating


This is the most colourful of the cakes. I haven’t eaten this much fake green in a long, long time.

 

Big J was on fire. With a few of these under his belt


He played some good ol’ fashioned Chatroulette, pointing at whoever he landed on and playing chicken with them until they hung up.


When two girls hung up on him, he was devastated.

It’s ok, he consoled himself by tormenting the cat. The cat, FYI, is a winner.


Though I’m not sure in what

 

Any other news?

Yep! Plenty.

I flew back to Canberra today and found a few packages waiting for me.

Like my sweat pink tank and shoelaces :-)


Best done in pretty shoes…

 

And……

 


It’s on!

 

Counting my miles

This September, my favourite arty runner chick is having a competition. The deal is that you report your weekly running miles to your team captain (Ashley or Cait), and at the end of the month, the team with the most miles wins.

There are indeed prizes! I know you….

I am Team Cait all the way


So head on over to join in :-D

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I logged another 7km this morning on my morning run.

 

40 Days!

There are 40 days until M-DAY.

So head on over to help me support the Butterfly Foundation, and watch my video if you haven’t already.

Butterfly Foundation Logo

For the next few weeks training is going to be intense, and then I get to drop off into the taper period – and eat like a boss. Mmmm, cake.

No.

Not cake.

I feel like a need a good detox already.

 

Today’s Moment

Hitting the bushy trail around Mum and Dad’s place this morning before anyone else was around to get in the way!

 

Your Turn!

What’s the latest piece of exciting mail you got?
Are you into coloured shoelaces?
Are you a fan of cake?
Have you ever gone through a taper period? If so, what can I expect? 

 

Lemon Party

I have to confess that I was a little worried about the reactions I would get to yesterday’s full frontal account of my wonderfully articulate family. I’m glad I was able to make a few of you laugh!

To add to the saga, here is my Mum, holding a tub of cream that expired in January this year. She found it after Dad tried to pour it down the sink, discovered it was no longer liquid, and put it on the bench.


Seriously?!

Given that Dad turns 50 tomorrow, and the whole family will be over to celebrate, it’s probably for the best that we found it and removed it from our lives.

Working it out

Yesterday I had another win for the week – I managed to find another branch of the gym – without getting lost!

I borrowed Mum’s bike:


I am quite a bit taller than Mum, so it was a knees to chin day!

When I say my parents live in Melbourne, I feel that I’m stretching the truth a little. Their suburb is so far out that it’s pretty much bush.

Proof: my view from the cross trainer


See those trees behind the car park? The car park is what’s out of place.

 

Yesterday was an epic mess of elliptical intervals, rowing sprints, weights, and cycling to and from the gym. I’m a nut – I thoroughly enjoyed it!


In my natural habitat. With my seriously sexy unflattering headband. No session is complete without it.

 

Long Run

It was great to check out the new gym in preparation for long run day. Today was 27.5km (about 17 miles). 10km on the road and 17.5km on the elliptical.

Last week I felt like death after my long session. And that weird feeling continues all week. I finally put it down to:

1. Low sodium (I did a salt loss check today using the highly scientific ‘lick your arm a little’ test. It was very effective). Nurse Mum to the rescue. Apparently I was drinking far, far too much water sitting around researching all day.

2. Low iron. Mum to the rescue again on this one. Having failed at eating enough this week, she gave me a couple of iron supplements.

3. Not enough to eat! I thought I was eating plenty; maybe even too much. Apparently when you start putting in the miles like this, all bets are off. It’s carbs, carbs, salt and fat like I’ve never experienced before!

Point is, I haven’t had a nap today, it’s long run day, it’s 12:45am, and I’m still a happy panda.


Squash face at 12:30am. Still going strong!

A good thing too! Because

 

It’s Saturday Night

And I’m in Melbourne, where all my school friends live. Dad’s birthday happens to coincide with a friend’s birthday, and so I headed across town to celebrate.

Mr The Rake arrived on Friday night, so he joined in


Huh?

 

Fi celebrated her birthday in style, with a rainbow birthday cake


Fi and her amazing cake

 

And good friends


Loving life!

 

Her boyfriend also celebrated. By being dared to eat an entire lemon. 



He didn’t flinch.

He also earned $30 for his *achievement*.

Long Run Day? Success. 

Today’s Moment

I just picked up Little J from a party. He’s good value when he’s been drinking. As he jumped into the car, his mate came running out of the front door:

You said you’d take me home!

Little J had completely forgotten.

 

Your Turn!

Is exercise on the agenda this weekend? If so, what?
Would you eat an entire lemon if someone paid you?
What is your favourite birthday cake?