ultramarathon

Run: Mummy: Run?

~ morethanamara ~ Leave a comment

Whilst standing there in the changing room, top off, mammaries out, with kind old ‘Brenda of the Bra Department’  holding out the next sports bra for me to try, I suddenly felt a strange tingling sensation in my boobs.

(Nope wasn’t Brenda causing it)

I look down and wow… there are two fountains of milk literally pouring out of me, down my tummy, and onto the floor. (Aptly named Squirty Squirty Left Boob is actually out in full force and cascading down the mirror.)

Question: If my boobs can’t cope with 5 mins out of the breast pads how will they ever cope running along in a race?

Will I EVER run again?

After nearly 8 years of running I would normally worry about chafing, or blisters, or even sweat patches (That cause the chafing or blisters).

Race prep would be carbo loading, route planning and picturing crossing the finish line in one piece.

And here I am, after running 1000s of miles, standing in a changing room debating how I am going to carry my new feeding machines round just 5km the very next day.

FYI I’ve had a gorgeous baby, his name is William and he is a 7 week old breast feeding milk machine that we love dearly. (And ran a half marathon 3 days before I realised he was on his way).

You may have seen from a previous blog I ran up to just before 28 weeks pregnant. I loved it. But as the pregnancy progressed so did my weight gain, hot flushes, toilet stops increased and generally I felt like an ever expanding waddling walrus (picture it).

So running 1000s of km was put on hold while my womb expanded bringing our bundle of joy into the world.

Fast forward to 7 weeks postpartum and I am eager to get back out there. (If you are my doctor please stop reading now. I am fully aware my 8 week check is a week away.)

I did have an emergency C section, so my decision to attempt a run hasn’t come lightly. The last few weeks I have been walking daily to build up to this. I have been careful to select clothing that didn’t aggravate my scar in anyway and I have made sure I have kept a close eye on the healing process.

This has involved wearing knickers my nan would be proud of, along with an array of trousers MC Hammer is sure to ask for soon.

So these pre run worries are more, how will I  strap everything in? Coupled with what effect has pregnancy had on my body? Will I remember how to run?

The second question is the most important and the biggest to get my head round. My memory tells me I can just walk out the door and run. However I know I have a long way to go, and my fitness isn’t the same. (Worth it though William!)

So the challenge begins, with a local 5km round the park to see how I fair.

Once I had stopped the fountain of milk leakage and selected the two bras I was going to have to wear. (Yes you read right). I was going to wear two, I had all the gear and no idea.

Armed with my new kit I headed home to work out how on earth I was going to be at the start for 9am? How I would feel? What about my pregnancy weight gain? I haven’t lost it all yet, (unfortunately not one of those that just ping back to pre pregnancy shape).

Should I run with William and the pram?

I didn’t actually run with William or the pram.

William watched with his Dad while eating a bacon sandwich. (His dad not him.)

At the start I pitched myself, my two bras and my “Mum Tum” towards the back of the field. I told myself I can run the flat and walk the hills. Thats a start right? And this isn’t far off a technique I have used in the later stages of an ultra. I was thinking like a runner already?! (My baby brain had retained some information after all!)

Annnnnnnnd we were off.

One foot actually moved in front of the other and I was still breathing! I was really running. The first km came and went. My legs felt good, I took it steady and I felt like I was really back. I HAD MISSED THIS.

About half way I was suddenly conscious of how I really felt, and it certainly wasn’t as fit as I used to be. I was breathing hard and all I could do was think will I actually make it?!

Doubt set in! Had I tried this too soon?  I have run 100km how can I struggle so much with just 5? My weight gain since falling pregnant was slowing me down.

I gained a grand total of 4 stone while pregnant!! William was a healthy 9lb baby and I suffered from Polyhydramnios (Extra fluid). Ive since lost 2.5 Stone naturally and the next 1.5 stone is hanging around my trusty thunder thighs.

It was these thunder thighs that were feeling heavy, and plodding along was the way forward.

But that’s the thing. I was still moving forward. Albeit rather slowly, (borderline backwards) but I was still going.

Just like when I ran at 27 weeks pregnant I was at the back of the pack. (Party at the back as they say!). There was a really supportive bunch around me, whilst I walked the hills, all throwing supportive phrases my way and to each other.  There was only 2 hills but on that second lap I was sure they had got steeper!

I eventually made it to the home straight… I found the energy to get my Mum Tum in gear and move along a little quicker. With the finish line in sight I plodded along and finally made it!

(Thank goodness).

Now this 5km wasn’t about time and how quickly I could get round. It was about actually making it round. It was about doing something I love that makes me, me. It was about appreciating that my body has gone through a massive change and is in a different place right now. Appreciating more than ever my thunder thighs, my new Mum Tum and my abilities.

My body made it!

Afterwards I headed straight for the car. Awaiting for me was my gorgeous boy with his gorgeous Daddy ready to take me home. I got in the car, beetroot faced, sweaty, undid my two bras and thought…

SHE’S BACK.

 

 

 

 

 

Running/Bumping along a new route.

~ morethanamara ~ Leave a comment

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I have always appreciated how far I could push my body when it came to running.

I have pushed it mile after mile to complete so many races and runs that I have lost count.

Running has seen me through so many good times.

Great times in fact.

And all the tough times in between that everyday life brings.

I never imagined that at my running peak I would be running 100km and living to tell the tale, and on the opposite side I never thought I would go from running 100km to struggling around just 5 of them.

However, my reason is not through injury or lack of motivation, but pregnancy!

I am now nearly 33 weeks pregnant, and over the moon to be carrying my first.

My last race was a 5km Parkrun at 27 weeks, where for the first time in any race I found myself at the back of the pack.

This is one experience that I will in in fact cherish along with the big achievements I have managed.

The support and encouragement from the spectators and other runners was just overwhelming!

“Go on the pregnant lady!” Rang out as I eventually crossed the finish line ultimately last for the first time in my whole running career so far.

Just when I had started to think my running days were over there I was, actually running (fast walking) through 5km and living to tell the tale.

I have a huge sense of pride in my body. It is currently growing another human being and yet it is still letting me achieve my goals, albeit slightly different versions.

At nearly 33 weeks pregnant I have put my running shoes to rest for the time being, and switched my exercise to a moderate regular swim, Aquanatal class, and lots of walking.

The knowledge and experience I have learnt over the years of running and testing my body has meant I know when to rest and I know when to look after myself.

My current marathon goal is to deliver this bundle of joy I have been graced with, safely and healthily.

And when the time is right, I will come back, to not just run for me, but run for the new life I have created.

I want to show them, it doesn’t matter how fast, slow, fat, thin, first, last and everything in between, just do you.

Be the best version of yourself you can be.

 

 

 

 

Determination: Why I just wont quit.

~ morethanamara ~ Leave a comment

Determination: noun (TRYING HARD)

“The ability to continue trying to do something, although it is very difficult.”

My last race didn’t end at the finish line and I felt, even now at times, I had let myself and others down.

Am I a quitter?

No.

In life I have one rule.

Do not quit.

I apply this to everything I do, I will keep pushing and driving myself no matter what it takes to achieve.

I’ve been described as relentless.

I have this inner need to succeed, and If I say I am going to do something, I must see it through.

So how am I a not a quitter if I chose to finish my race 20km short of the finish line?

It was one of the toughest decisions to make, I didn’t want to, but I knew it was right.

If I had carried on I was risking my health, and without that I may never have seen the finish line, but I also may have never seen another start.

I didn’t quit, I just postponed the finish.

I not only ran 80km on one of the hottest days I have attempted to run, but I did it 5 hours quicker than the previous time I ran that distance.

More importantly I got to run again.

I have reflected and analysed over and over and still come up with the same answers…

What will I do differently next time?

It took me exactly seven days to get back out there and run.

I laced up my trainers and took myself off into the woods and countryside and just ran.

I ran the trails of familiarity, I ran the hills and pushed up and up until I reached the top.

There I stopped and stood, looking down at the path I had just snaked up, and breathed deeply.

Oxygen filled my gasping lungs and I knew I was back.

I had dusted myself off, I had tried again and I succeeded.

Quitting would be to not run again.

Quitting would be to not see another race through.

And that just wont happen.

In non running life so many things get in the way of our plans, but it’s how we over come them that makes us.

It’s not always at the finish line that you achieve.

The journey along the way is where the achievements lie.

The learnings, the experience and the growth. The overcoming of obstacles and finding your way to be the best version of yourself is where it’s at.

It may not be your original plan, it may not be the first route you set out on and it may take longer than you wished.

But one things for sure, by not stopping, you will always get there.

When 100km turns into 80km: It just wasn’t to be.

~ morethanamara ~ Leave a comment

As I write this, I sit here with severe nausea, pains in places I didn’t know could hurt on my body, tears in my eyes and a burnt face.

Yesterday I attempted a 100km race.

A distance I have completed before.

24 hours previous to me writing this I was setting off along the Ridgeway to complete 100km by foot in what would turn out to be one of the hottest days of the year.

I felt strong, prepared and free.

I felt determined, at home in the countryside.

I had the most amazing support crew, my Mum, Paul and Hannah. Ready and waiting at pit stops to see me  come bounding in, top up my suntan lotion and feed me.

The first half flew by in a sea of blue skies and rolling hills.

50km I ate and refuelled ready for the second half. I ate pasta and fudge and drank sugary tea. All the things I had trained with previously.

I knew my body and what it needed.

My feet needed re taping, my socks needed changing. I saw the medic for sudocream for places we need not discuss. And my sister Hannah will never recover from.

I left 50km slightly emotional at the sudocream incident but in high spirits. I kissed all goodbye and headed off to 60km.

60km I needed to change my shoes. The pain in my feet was starting to creep in.

I ploughed on to 70km to meet the crew and change my shoes. From this I felt I had a new lease of life and felt great in more comfy runners. I upped my salt intake and continued.

I set off waving and cheering.

Half way between 70km-80km I suddenly came over with a wave of nausea.

I tried to convince myself I was just imagining it.

How could I feel so good one minute and so bad the next?

I ploughed on, starting to feel unsteady on my feet. I could feel myself swaying from side to side as I was now plodding along.

I suddenly felt extremely disorientated and for the first time questioned my abilities. The negative thoughts creep up on you without warning.

How can I do this? Why am I doing this?

Then it happened. I was violently ill at the side of the path.

All the fuelling I had done throughout the race was there, coming out of my body.

Dehydrating me.

I just wanted to lie down so bad, but with a few more kilometers to go to 80km I pushed on.

Daylight was slowly drifting away as I came into the check point.

I saw the medic and I tried everything I could to feel better.

My face was burning, but I felt cold.

My stomach was churning and I was struggling to keep water down.

My head was telling me to man up and move on, but my heart was telling me it was time.

I finished my 100km race in tears at the 80km stop.

One of the hardest decisions a runner will have to make and a memory that will last a life time.

Why would I think to keep going when so ill?

I have a yearning and determination for completion. When I commit, I commit wholeheartedly and I don’t like failure.

In time, as my body recovers, and my emotions get back on track, I will look at this experience as one of learning.

I know I did my absolute best and I know 80km, is still an achievement.

I will reminisce all the positives, the people and the scenery. That many will never experience.

I will go on, I will encourage others to achieve their goals, and I will always advise, when you know in your heart, you just know.

“There will be days you don’t think you can run a marathon, there will be a life time of knowing you have”

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“You don’t look like you could run a marathon!”

~ morethanamara ~ Leave a comment

Don’t I?

What does someone who runs a marathon look like?

Oh I see… a female marathon runner doesn’t have thighs, butt and waist?

No?

Currently 4 days away from being on the start line of my next 100km race this is the conversation I have had to endure.

The shock horror that yes, I am a long distance runner.

A curvy, strong, healthy female long distance runner.

I am a firm believer that no matter of your height, weight and size you can be a runner. With self belief and determination you can push your self to achieve anything you wish no matter what you look like.

Did these comments hurt?

To many they could have done. To many you may have started to question your capabilities and started to compare yourself to those around you.

I met these comments with an overwhelming sense of satisfaction. Satisfied and comfortable in the knowledge that I don’t need to justify if I am a runner to anyone. I don’t have to degrade myself to explaining my body shape, or how I have run as many miles as I have with these thighs. (I love them)

What I did start to do, was burst with pride. That even though this person stood before me, looked shocked to hear I have and can run as far as I do, I was proud that I have got to experience that ultimate feeling of achieving a physically demanding goal.

I stood their reminiscing about the feeling of not just finishing a race, but that overwhelming, gut wrenching feeling of pushing your body to it’s limits. The feeling of burning lungs, blistering feet and pounding heart, after you have just run the steepest hill or mountain side that many would struggle to drive up.

I stood there excited that because I chose to ignore the doubters and take myself off running, that in a few hours time I was going to get my kit on and head into the woods and fields and just run, appreciating the scenery and freedom.

I loved the look of disbelief on his face as he stood before me. The disbelief that this curvy long distance female runner, doesn’t look as he would expect a female long distance runner to look.

I love the unexpected.

This body has carried me through thousands and thousands of miles.

And I owe it to my body for enabling me to achieve my goals.

I also owe it to the man that questioned “But you don’t look like you could run a marathon?” for without people like you us runners wouldn’t get our daily reminder that we rock, no matter what we look like.

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