Sunday, 21 August 2016

Marathon again!

I will run a marathon again. It's official. I have to do it. It's only taken me few years to recover and forget how tough it might have been. Somewhere along the way it has become clear to me that running really is something I have to keep on doing. It's my meditation and my shrink. A week ago Helsinki City Marathon took place. Next year, around this time, I will run that marathon. I will run in my home town, on the streets I know better than anywhere else in this world. The route follows the coast and goes around islands including the one I spent my childhood in. This all makes me very emotional and determined to try my best.

The other marathon that happened last weekend was the Olympic women's one in Rio. The winner Jemima Sumgong from Kenya ran in 2 hours 23 minutes and 4 seconds! That's crazy fast. My goal is to go faster than last time and stay under 4 hours even if it's by only few seconds. I have no idea if I will succeed on this but what's the point in not trying. So from now on I will consider myself an athlete again. A crazy whiskey loving, beer loving, cake loving ATHLETE. I know it sounds grand but I call myself a fucking superhero ninja warrior already so... Also we were told to consider ourselves as athletes by someone wise in the marathon training day last time around.

Thursday, 2 June 2016

Superhero ninja warrior mission 2 completed

We survived. We survived already week and a half ago. Last week I was broken. This week I'm starting to feel human again and FORGET how seriously horrible it all was. We just got the official photos from the Tough Mudder and some of them show us looking like we had FUN. Like the photo of me and Annette above. Like we are fucking loving it.

The truth is I didn't love it. The truth is that it was much more horrible than I feared and I did fear a lot. My tactic was all along not to know too much beforehand so that I wouldn't panic too much. It worked. I'm happy I did not know how freaking horrible it was going to be. And how MUDDY! It's weird how you get used to jumping in mud pools and ditches. You stop caring about anything pretty damn soon. There were 25 obstacles plus shit loads of extra swimming in the mud. And I mean swimming. I swallowed mud, the mud went into my most private parts, the mud is part of my DNA now. 

That's me crawling under BARBWIRE in MUD.

The one and only obstacle I was truly terrified of beforehand was the electro shocks. Those were nothing in comparison to some truly horrendous other shit that we went through. In fact I nearly liked being electrocuted. Well, I liked it because it was the final thing just before the finish line.

The obstacle I hated most, the one I would have definitely missed if I would have known about it, was Arctic Enema. Luckily(?) I was clueless about it until way too late. When I was on the starting line for this obstacle I started panicking seriously but it was too late to back off. I had to slide to a pool of ICE COLD water. It was more like a tank, less like a pool really. The only way out was to dive under big tyres. By the time I hit the water my heart nearly stopped and I really struggled to gasp enough air for the diving mission but also was very aware of the fact that there was no other way out. It was HORRIBLE. No, it was something zillion times worse than horrible. I might have shouted abuse at Jim after I emerged from this torture devise.

Bizarrely enough I did all the obstacles. I was the only one from our group to complete Everest, a super high wall. This has nothing to do with my amazing climbing skills though (mind you, generally speaking I found the climbing obstacles much easier than the other ones). Everest was impossible to get over alone. You had to rely on other people to pull you up after you've ran towards them as fast as you possibly could and tried to reach their hands. I was lucky enough to be pulled up by THREE fit guys. They left after they've dragged me up(there is no nicer way to put this) and I was left pretty much alone on the top of the obstacle whilst rest of my team was still down there. I didn't see how I was meant to help them up.

That's me and Abby being electrocuted.

Our race was not over after the finish line. We had to say no to free beers on offer, run past the queue to nice real showers and rush to our car. There in the middle of the parking lot we stripped to our underwear and poured water from big bottles over each other. Then we put some cleaner clothes on, stepped into the shiny and brand new rental car and started the real race towards Heathrow. After few hours Jim had made it to his flight and rest of us were sitting on Piccadilly Line finally on our way towards a shower.

These are some of my most epic bruises. Now most of them have faded and so is the certainty I had about never doing this again. All last week I have been telling people how horrid the experience was and how I would never ever under any circumstances do it again. Now watching the photos my mind is already much more open for a sequel. I must be a masochist.

Friday, 20 May 2016

Shit is getting real!

TOMORROW it happens!!!! Tomorrow we might die...or survive...or be kick ass winners! Final steps in my training have been all about SWIMMING OUTDOORS!!! On the left a selfie after my first swim of the year in the reopened ladies' bathing pond in Hampstead. On the right a photo after a swim in a river in Essex!

The water temperature in the pond was already 17 degrees which is totally enjoyable. We did quite a few laps. River was chillier but lots of fun never the less. Below is a photo of the picturesque river.

Last Saturday we finally ran a practise run with the whole team. Jim had planned a beautiful route that mostly followed canals. We managed 15 and a half kilometres. Afterwards we congratulated ourselves with quite a few pints...healthy business. 

On my personal runs I have explored the newly opened Woodberry Wetlands. Most of the reservoir has been closed for the general public until now. I'm loving the wonderful addition to my runs. That's me totally loving the wetlands.

Yesterday I ran 9km with my climbing gear on my backpack and then did a good bouldering session. I felt suitably tough after all that. So tough indeed that I decided to take tough muscle photos in the empty dressing room. Today I rest and try not to panic. Tonight we shoot off to Midlands. Should be fun...and TOUGH.

I'm going to finish with this photo from 2 summers ago. I was wearing a fake tattoo that said: I'M VERY TOUGH. Unfortunately I don't have that tattoo anymore but I'M VERY TOUGH regardless.

Wednesday, 11 May 2016

Pippi the Viking Warrior

No, the training did not get back on track. In fact it has gone totally tits up. Tough Mudder is in less than 2 weeks time and I am so not ready. My parents visited and I had holiday times with them. Then I moved home to single life and then got ill and then also partied and WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED to all of my training??? Last weekend I was meant to stay good and healthy. There was just this Viking wedding to attend. I had a ridiculous amount of fake plaits on my head and scary face paint. I was a real warrior. A friend said I should do the same look for the Tough Mudder.  I didn't exactly act like a warrior though. I stayed out dancing until the morning. It was not healthy. I am still tired. 

Most of my fake plaits came out after the wedding but I kept the original 2 that were plaited into my own hair. I look like Pippi Longstocking now. Maybe not as scary look as the Viking Warrior but no less good. Pippi is the ultimate heroine. She is the original tough girl. Totally independent, lives by herself in a big house with her horse and a monkey AND she just happens to be the world's strongest person! Not a bad idol for a woman who tries to be all very tough and strong.

So now this Pippi/Viking Warrior wannabe will have the ultimate sprint to Tough Mudder. She will overcome all her laziness and just simply be amazing. Today she did 40 minutes of bouldering which is good when it comes to bouldering. I am still not a super mega climber but definitely better than I used to be. It does give me an ego boost when I can climb a wall that someone else fails (how nice I am indeed). Today I did few of those. And then failed few others. But that's how it goes. You also learn by watching other climbers fail and succeed.

Thursday, 14 April 2016

team exercise

Last Sunday we finally trained together as the Tough Mudder team. Well nearly the whole team. To be honest we are not quite sure about who is in and who is not...yet. Me, Abbie and Jim ran to the pub. That was the training. Jim planned the route which meant not the shortest way. In fact it was the route with a great selection of delightful uphills. If your destination is in High Gate then there will be at least one uphill but luckily you can also add few more, such as Alexandra Palace. The view from there is nearly worth the suffering. After viewing the view we carried on the park land walk and then stopped by the swing. Then we did some very serious swing training. I'm sure it will become useful at the Tough Mudder. The swinger in picture is Jim. Then finally we ended up in the pub and got drunk.
I've also done regular runs by myself and gone climbing pretty often so I think my training is back on track.

Monday, 4 April 2016

Everything went POOP!

After the last blog post OVER one month ago I got ill. That wasn't yet when everything went POOP but it took good couple of weeks away from my training time. Then I travelled to Morocco with my sister. That obviously wasn't when things went POOP. It was amazing but it took another week away from my training time. Then everything went POOP. My life shattered. My relationship came to an end. That final POOP did take more training time away. So now when I'm adjusting to life after the POOP, I am trying to train again as well. Because why the hell not. The following superstitious thought did enter my head briefly though: Last time I started seriously training and writing this blog, my life went POOP too. Is this blog cursed perhaps? Or is it my subconscious who reacts to difficult relationship times with silly training regimes? Or is it just life that sometimes goes POOP? Nothing to do with training. I decided to go with the latter. Last time my relationship was already badly going POOP when I started the blog. And to be fair the training did help. It was good to concentrate on something so big and serious and most of all physical. This time around was very different. Sad yes and yes maybe training will help again but it wasn't the reason and neither it was the first time around. 

And that's me looking like an old-fashioned swimming champion inside a hidden paradise in Marrakesh. Photo is suitably sepia...I mean poop coloured too.

So I started running and training again despite all the POOP around. Turns out that my GPS watch isn't really good with the function called GPS. Last few times it has totally failed to find the connection. So now it is just an old fashioned stop watch. Brilliant. Luckily my brain has a good inbuilt GPS and I can pretty accurately map my runs afterwards. 

Thursday, 25 February 2016

conquering new lands, meeting the guru and then SHIT

Here we go: fucking photos of my food. Look there is my healthy porridge breakfast and there are my nutritious and oh so photogenic spinach, cheese and avocado lunch sandwiches! Look my life and training is under control and it looks good too...

Or it's not all that great after all. I am ill. My throat has endless amounts of lumpy snot stuck inside. Well at least I am giving my body all this beautiful nutritious food to help fight the germs. I am also giving it biscuits and wine (not in the picture). 

Last weekend I was rolling. Everything was going amazingly and my superpowers were definitely growing. On Saturday I planned my run beforehand on the map and then conquered Victoria Park. I can not believe how close it actually is! I've been an ignorant fool thinking it's somehow far away. Running alongside cycling are activities that indeed shrink your world. It started raining on my way home but I felt like a winner and decided to love the rain as well. Later on that evening I went to Niina's house and tried to help her swap the inner tubes and tyres on her bike. We were not totally successful but the evening was more of a hero evening than your usual Saturday night in a pub. Sunday was a busy day too. We went to see the exciting Cosmonauts exhibition in the Science Museum and straight from there I travelled to a very special karate class. Shihan (translates into something like a super duper extreme martial arts guru boss person) Stacey Karetsian had travelled from the other side of the world to teach us some of his karate magic. I imagined it being bit like meeting Jackie Chan or Master Shifu from Kungfu Panda. It wasn't exactly like that. I think the problem was the location. We were not on the top of a mountain in China but in a sports hall of a school in North London. I wasn't meeting my guru alone but there were LOTS other people too. It was all very good in any case and when I finally got home just before ten I was knackered but energised at the same time. I felt so good about myself but it was all about to change within an hour! After I managed to finish eating my late dinner, on the very moment of stopping to chew, my throat started to hurt. The pain came FROM NOWHERE. The illness came all of the sudden from NOWHERE!!!! What the actual fuck? What is the point of being all healthy and sporty over the weekend when partying hard leaves you feel better? ANGER