This is it! I might actually have made it!
We rolled into Week 9 with anticipation knowing that this was going to be the end of our Couch to some-kind-of-running-resemblance app adventure. Or was it?
It was also the first official day back at work and I was not afraid to be very public about my post-holiday depression. Because only the day before, I was bored out of my brain, staring zombie-like at my home PC screen thinking about all the things I had time to do and couldn't be bothered doing. And now that I didn't have the time to do these things, it felt completely unreasonable.
But, I digress.
Placing my emo feelings in my back pocket, I also felt anxious about doing our usual Tuesday run in the city again, as I had become somewhat attached to my little burb-jogs and felt out of my comfort zone all over again.
Rhi felt ill on Tuesday morning so I had the privilege of doing that inner city circuit all by my lonesome.
My morning run needed to be for 28mins, and Rhi and I had already decided that with the extra time we had better change up the run route again. This time we were going to run clockwise from the Uni to the Weir and then back around to the Uni again as this ring route was supposed to be 4.5kms. Off I go.
Running in the opposite direction was like running on a whole new track. I also discovered quickly that this new route had barely any inclines on it which suited me fine while was just trying to focus on my breathing.
About 5mins in and I finally settled into my regular footfalls and breathing patterns. Thank god. That feeling you get when everything falls into place is so wonderful when you feel like you are constantly struggling.
I run past the Weir, half way! and plowed on round until that glorious bell tone told me I was done. I was done! And I must have been on one of those runners highs again because I could have kept going.
Workout complete and I didn't even wee myself or pass out. Fucking win.
I wish I had of kept running anyway because I felt so good and it would of been such an accomplishment that morning to have run the full 5km, finally.
Wednesday was supposed to be Bike Riding for cross-training but because the weather was insufferable, we decided we would save the bike ride until Saturday and instead went to the local aquatic centre after work to do a shallow water HIIT Hydro class.
This class was supposed to be a more intense version of the Aqua Aerobics that we did last time so I was a little bit nervous. And I had no idea what they meant by shallow as there was no way in hell that I was going to be jumping around doing HIIT exercises in a one piece swimsuit. My poor lady bits just wouldn't hack it.
Thankfully, the "shallow class" meant that you didn't have to tread water the entire time, so we got stuck into it as best you can when you are trying to karate kick in neck deep water without drowning yourself.
I must quickly put out a recommendation to the Adelaide Aquatic Centre. It was my first visit there and the staff and facilities were excellent. Maybe it was that the only other facilities I had been to weren't worth the comparison, but even the trainer for the class obviously knew what she was doing, was organised and much more 'connected' with her regulars and us newbies through the class. It was a great experience all round!
Thursday left me sore from muscles I obviously haven't used in a while in the Aqua training the night before, and then as the day wore on I realised that my body was also being weighed down with the familiar "Woes of Aunt Flo".
I woke up Friday morning feeling utterly disgusting, and decided to stay in bed and go back to sleep.
When I finally emerged from my PMS-enriched-slumber sometime midday I didn't feel much better and spent the entire day feeling completely sorry for myself with running, and the guilt of missing out, being the furthest thing from my mind.
Saturday morning I found myself sitting on the edge of my bed brooding over the fact that I had booked early starts for both mornings of my first weekend after being back at work. What the hell is wrong with me?!
When I stopped channelling Edward Cullen, I got my shit together and headed down to the city with Rhi to do our City-Beach bike ride.
It was excellent weather, and was actually an excellent ride. I thoroughly enjoyed myself the entire way and the paths and parks you follow are beautiful with a grand finale (half way for us) of the River Torrens meeting the ocean at West Beach.
Beautiful scenery aside, my legs were done like dinner by the time we rode all the way back to the car in the city, and so Rhi and I rewarded ourselves with a coffee and breakfast at the cute little café that is now occupying the building at the North Adelaide train stop on the Gawler line. So cute!
Sunday emerged from the divine blackness that was sleep, and I remembered that I had agreed to meet with Rhi at the Adelaide Oval in town for our first official group run around the River Torrens. Dear god, help me.
The ASICS crew are offering a free weekly training session for those wanting to run the Bay-City marathon later this year, so we thought we may as well join in.
I was nervous as all hell because, I have "anything-that-is-new-or-with-people-I-don't-know" social anxiety, but I had convinced myself that this run would be a great esteem booster as we had been training already for 2 months, so SURELY we would be at least in the middle if not at the front of the class. Right? .... RIGHT?!
I knew I was sorely mistaken when the first thing the trainer asked us to do was split into pacing groups.
Excuse me? Pacing-what-now?
"Can all those running 5 and a half min kms please group over there".
(Rhi looks at me worriedly).
"Can those running 6min kms please group over there...".
(I am desperately searching Rhi's face for a clue as to where we fit in here).
"...and can those running 6 and a half min kms or slower go with this group here".
It finally dawns on me what the trainer is talking about as people start milling to their respective groups and I frantically ask Rhi what our current running pace is.
Currently, somewhere between 8-9min per km. Well, shit.
My big fat head suddenly shrivels up to the size of a small raisin as I numbly shuffle over to our "slower" group.
I realise that we are not only in the slowest group, but we are probably going to be last. I don't want to be last. Ever.
The trainer assures us that she will take it easy to begin with to give us a chance to warm up and then herds us all over to the shared walking track that Rhi and I have become so familiar with. And off we go.
Within 30 seconds, the group has elongated out so everyone can run in pairs, and as we make it around the first bend, it is clear that the majority of the group are indeed running 6 and a half min kms because the group gradually gets further and further away from us.
Today's run was hard. You know, sometimes you have great days, and sometimes your have bad days, and today was one of those harder days.
I couldn't get my breathing right. My legs were so sore from yesterday's ride still. It was very humid and the sweat was rolling off me in unrelenting waves. I was still experiencing turbulence in my lady regions and I was constantly aware of our speed versus the speed of everyone else. All in all, it was horrible.
Rhi and I both struggled and eventually, well before we have had to in a long time, we decided to stop and walk for a bit.
The trainer finally realised she had lost her herd and started running back to spend some time with everyone to hand out advice and pep talks.
Before she got to us, Rhi and I started running again and she ran with us a while trying to give us encouraging advise. I wanted to stuff every word back into her mouth. Nothing she was saying was helping me, and all I wanted was for her to bugger off so I could concentrate on not failing this run.
In hindsight, I was only annoyed with her because I was PMSing and struggling. She and the other trainers were actually excellent and professional and super helpful. The poor lady deserved a little bit more of my respect.
She stayed with us for only about a minute while we grunted and huffed back in response to her encouragement and then I glared at her while she sprinted the casual 500metres or so back to the front of her group.
The track we ran was about 4.5km long in total and Rhi and I made it eventually but we had to stop a few times and Rhi started to suffer from heat exhaustion by the end of it. We were both in poor shape and should have hydrated better.
Lessons learned: Hydrate, always. Don't over-do it - We had done a huge ride the day before and we were still recovering. And, give yourself some credit.
Even though I didn't feel positive, I made sure I said aloud that we were both amazing for finishing the run. We were amazing for even being there. We actually got up early on a Sunday morning on purpose to meet with a bunch of strangers and run in the city! We are heroes!
Well, maybe not heroes. But our effort is definitely better than what I used to do on a Sunday morning....
