Wednesday, October 1, 2008

The universe has come back to bite me on the ass!!

So where to begin for my first blog..... how about at the point that's eating away at me the most right now?!
A little insight into the twisted workings of Adnyl June:
I'm a straight talker and no bullshit kinda gal. I have high expectations of myself, and I'm my own worst enemy. Never will you find someone more pissed off with themselves when they don't achieve what they set out to. And that's exactly why I'm all cranky and antsy right now!
I've been training for The Melbourne Half Marathon for the 2&1/2 months, along with continuing my new found love for bootcamp, discovered in February this year (and an addiction I'm only too keen to hold on to!). But my goal of finishing the half marathon has been around for a while now. I actually started training for it last year after I completed the Run4Kids in Melbourne (15km) and the City2Surf in Sydney (14km) and was determined that I could finish the year off well with the half marathon. Alas, my plan was thrown by the way-side by injury. I suffered from Plantar Fasciitis in my right heel, and had stop running completely for 6 weeks, perfect timing, only 4 weeks before the marathon! So that goal was pushed aside and re-set for 2008.
After FINALLY getting my fitness back on track, thanks to Elite-Ops Bootcamp with Sarge Stocks and my fellow bootcampers, I decided I was ready to give it another crack. So I sat down with Stockys and we went through exactly what I wanted to achieve and he kindly wrote me a program to get me over the line in my desired 2hr time frame. I was pumped, I was ready, I was gonna kick this half marathon in ass and show it who was boss! And so the training begins, slowly but surely I build up my fitness, I work on getting the Km's in my legs, just like Stocksy told me to... I was right on track... until.... the blisters start... my feet can't seem to cope with more than 8km at a time before the blisters start popping up. I can feel the friction as I'm running, but my own stubbornness just keeps my legs moving, one foot in front of the other. I start trying all different sorts of strapping tape, none of it works, so I see a Podiatrist; she sorts me out and tells me it's the shoes. The shoes I've spent $260 on only 3 months ago are no good for distance running.... well at least not for me. So I do everything she tells me, I even get the new sneakers (another $180 later.!!!!) and I'm starting to get back on track. There's only 4 weeks til the half marathon, but I can feel I'm gonna be Ok.... my time may not be as good as I hoped, but I'll get over the line, I'll achieve my goal....... That was, until I strained my hamstring at bootcamp. It kills, it hurts like mad.... I know it's not torn, but I think the thought of the injury was what was hurting me the most. It's only 3 weeks til the half marathon... THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING! So off to the physio I go... She gives me all sorts of interesting exercises, tells me it's a back related hamstring strain, partial back strain/partial hamstring. But she seems to think with a bit of love and rest, I'll get over the line, I'll finish the run. Again, I do everything she tells me....I stretch twice a day, I rest my hamstring, I focus on it getting better. I'm feeling good, she tells me I can try a short run on the weekend, I can DO this, it's gonna be OK!
So of course, when I get the all clear, I go out to party. It's end of bootcamp for September, so we have our Dinner and drinks session at Hobsons in Sandringham. I'm feeling good, the beer tastes great, the company is awesome... and I let my hair down, do some karaoke, drink WAAAAYY too much., and wake up the next day with a sore head and a sore throat. "Must be the karaoke that's made my throat so sore" says my tiny little retarded hung over head! So I take some drugs to dull pain of the hangover, good old paracetamol...fixes everything....temporarily at least. I continue on my way home.... yes, that's right I didn't wake up in my own bed... but that's a whole other story for a whole other blog session . I get myself all ready for the day ahead - AFL GRAND FINAL DAY! It's shaping up to be a great day, I'm heading off to Mornington with some bootcamp buddy's for an afternoon of beer, footy and meat pies... can life get any better I ask?!! Apparently yes, because it didn't really all happen that way. I start the afternoon off with a hair-of-the-dog beer at 12pm, it seems to be doing the trick, I’m feeling alright (considering), and the sausages from the BBQ are going down a treat..... the game starts, I get my possi on the couch, I'm set. However, lack of sleep from the night before starts to slowly creep in... My eyelids are aching, my sore throat comes back and I’m feeling like CRAP! The crap feeling continues, I take some more drugs... but no such luck..... The Hawks win flag (Yay!) and I want to rip out my throat and ears... they're killing me! The cold shakes start happening, I'm feeling worse... my friends see me looking white as a ghost, but try to cheer me up.... they end up sending me home. Poor Celia (my chauffer/bootcamp buddy) drives me all the way home..... with a small pit-stop on Cummins road for me to relieve myself (those sausages & pies just didn't want to stay down). I get home and jump straight into the shower to warm myself up. Then straight into bed to sleep for eternity... maybe that's all I need, a decent night’s sleep?! Apparently not... my fever and chills don't stop all night, I feel crap the next day, but at least I’ve stopped shaking. I drag myself off to the doctors first thing Monday morning...and the lovely doctor informs me I've got Tonsillitis! Fucking brilliant! Plenty of fluids and rest he says, we need to get you better.
SO what does this all mean..... Well it means there's less than 2 weeks to the half marathon and I'm nowhere near ready, and not even sure I'll make it half way. I'm devastated.... I worked hard, I trained, I did everything I should have....and now I let my hair down one too many times and I'm suffering the consequences... I think I’ve just broken my own heart.

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