A New Evil

No, I am not talking about spinning. I have now done two spin classes and while they are tough, they are bearable. No, I am talking about a brand new evil. One I had no knowledge of until this Tuesday. 

Normally Tuesday is my run club day. A nice gentle 4K run around my town with some like-minded ladies. I look forward to my Tuesday runs. This Tuesday however was miserably wet and cold and resulted in the class being cancelled. The lady who runs the club suggested that those who still wanted a workout should come along to the cryptically named "team training" class that evening. I asked her what this class involved and she told me it was a fun class with a bit of spinning and something she called "circuit training". Some of you may already see where this is going. I, however, had never heard of circuit training and was told it was "just a bit of step" and that I would manage fine.

HA. (I would laugh harder but my abs still hurt.)

Those 45 minutes were the longest, most painful, movement-packed I think I have ever lived through. There were weights (the really heavy green ones, not the pretty pink light ones I use during the "tone" part of spinning), sit ups, press ups, planks and about a zillion squats. Add to that the sprinting on the bicycles and the jogging/bunny hopping on and off a step and I honestly didn't know which way was up. Oh and we did some suicide runs as well at the end, you know, cause we had loads of extra energy left over. 

I don't think I have ever sweat so much in my life (ladylike, I know). I woke up the next day and every single muscle (every. single. one.) was on fire. Muscles I haven't felt in years were suddenly screaming at me and I wasn't even moving, I was just sat (collapsed in a heap) helplessly on the sofa. I'm still hobbling about today. Two whole days later and I'm still sore!

I'll tell you one thing, that is the last time I ever get lured into a class on the promise of it being fun and easy. The next person to come near me with the words "circuit training" will get a big punch on the nose. Or at least they will once I can actually lift my arms up past my waist again!

Spinning

Spinning is EVIL. Seriously. My first "Beginner Spin and Tone" class was on Thursday and everything still aches. Oh, and those really uncomfy looking bicycle seats? Yeah. they're really uncomfy. 

Moaning and sulking aside, I really enjoyed it. It was really tough and I struggled much more than I thought I would but it was satisfying to get to the end of the class and still be able to breathe and talk. We started out with the "spin" bit which involved sprinting, hills and cycling with one leg at a time (yay...not). Then we moved on to the "tone" bit which involved getting some little pink baby weights (cause I am weak and couldn't face the slightly heavier purple ones) and doing some bicep curls and some tricep something-elses. Oh and this other one which made my arms and my abs hurt. I say abs, I mean my non-defined stomach area that someday very far away may develop something remotely resembling abs. 

All in all I wouldn't call it a pleasant experience but I felt good after (mentally, physically not so much) and it was good to see everyone else panting and puffing too. Plus, one of the girls from my Tuesday run club was also there so I have someone to sit next to during class and moan to after. Other than all of you of course. The four of you that actually read my blog that is. (Hi mum and dad!).

The holidays are over!

Merry/Happy etcetera, etcetera... 

Yes, I can believe it's 2016. No I haven't made any resolutions. Why? If you need to ask then you've clearly never made any. 

Have I been for a run this year yet? YES. Yes I have. Today. 

Ok, so it was the first time in about a month but please save your pointed disappointed stares, my aching legs and semi-burst lungs tomorrow morning will be punishment enough. Oh, and just in case you think it's not a sufficient punishment then you'll be happy to know I've signed myself up for a beginner's spin class too. The first lesson is this Thursday which will give me just enough time for walking to become bearable again. The almost certain leg agony aside, I am excited to be mixing things up with my training as I have to admit I was starting to get a tad bored of just running all the time and this will also be a good way to kick start this year.

Speaking of which, this year is actually going to be a pretty big one for me. 

2016 is the year in which I will be turning 25. I will be getting married and letting go of the only surname I have ever known. I'll be going on my honeymoon. I will be running a half marathon in February and hopefully take part in a mini triathlon in July. Last but not least I will be planning a potential trans-Atlantic move which is both terrifying and exciting and may not actually happen until 2017.

So, here's hoping this year goes well for me in all my endeavours and for you all in yours!

Hurty feet indeed.

When I named this blog "My Feet Hurt!" I did it half jokingly. I was expecting my feet to be a tad sore from all that pavement pounding. I even expected a minor injury, perhaps from putting my foot down funny or slipping on some gravel, all of which I am told are the common perils of running. So when my first foot injury arose on Friday you'd think I'd have been celebrating. I would now be able to proudly show off my battle scars, proof of my dedication to my chosen exercise regime. Not so. I didn't hurt my foot out running. How, you ask, did I injure myself? A slip? A fall? No, no, no. 

My shoe bit me. 

Yes you read that right. Friday night I made my way to the tube station to go to my fiancé's work party, and my shoe bit me. My sensible, flat shoes that I had worn specifically with the aim of preventing foot injury. The sensible shoes I was planning on later swapping for the highly impractical 5 inch heels. My sensible shoes have a funny sense of irony that's all I'm going to say. In all honesty I had noticed a slight pinching sensation on my (5 minute) walk to the station, but I figured I must have just got something stuck in the shoe. Picture my shocked, disbelieving face when I pull the offending shoe off at the station to find my heel completely red with blood. Blood! My sensible shoes made my foot bleed! This is the type of injury I would expect had I decided to run a marathon in my aforementioned 5 inch heels! Or just taken part in an Army-style march across the Brecon Beacons. In the rain. 

My lady readers might understand this sentiment more than my male ones, but you place your trust in your sensible shoes and mine betrayed me. Traitors. 

Anyway, for those of you who like seeing this kind of thing, I have thoughtfully included a photo of my heel. It has healed over somewhat now and is no longer actively bleeding (yay) but still hurts to the point where conventional shoes (ie: anything that's not a welly or a flip flop) are agony to wear. 

Oh, and for those of you (probably not) wondering what happened to my night out? Well I went to the work party anyway, in my pretty knee-length cocktail dress with my handsome dinner-suited-up fiancé. And what did I put on my feet? 

Flip flops. I wore flip flops. 

PS: special shout out to my fiancé who left work early to go on a mid-winter mission to find and buy me said flip flops.

Milestones

Since I started running back in May and started this blog I feel like I have reached many different milestones. I ran my first race back in July, I joined not one but two different running clubs, I can now run 5k without stopping or feeling like I'm about to die and I've met loads of new people who share this crazy desire to run around outside in the cold for some crazy reason. All of this is wonderful and I'm super happy for myself. One milestone has always eluded me however. Not because I couldn't reach it but because I always avoided it. Well, this past weekend I finally let myself get there.

I went for a run with my fiancé. 

I know, you were probably expecting something slightly more dramatic right? What you have to understand is that my fiancé was in the army for 5 years and, even on an off day, is a million times fitter than I am. This has always made me slightly apprehensive to go running with him. I always had visions of me huffing and puffing on hands and knees fifty metres behind him while he runs at a tenth of his normal pace. So I decided to wait until I would be able to keep up and show him how much I'd improved. (Pride is a funny thing isn't it?) 

Anyway, the run went really well. Yes, he did have to slow down so I could keep up but not to the cartoon-like exaggerated extent I had been picturing. Yes, at the end of the run I was in large amounts of pain. On the upside, the reason for the large amounts of pain was that his naturally faster pace made me speed up to try and not slow him down too horrendously. Which resulted in me shaving two more minutes off my time! 

So here we are. One more demon defeated. One more milestone reached. 

Basically, yay me. 

The end of a (tiny) era.

This Monday was my last run club lesson in South Oxhey. It feels like it was just yesterday that I started that course and yet eight whole weeks have passed. It started out with around ten of us not being able to run for more than a couple of minutes without needing to stop and re-inflate our lungs, and ended with about four of us (the hardcore four!) running for thirty minutes non stop, up and down hills, chatting away. Lungs of steel obviously fully developed! 

I have to say I am genuinely going to miss run club on Mondays. It was a really invigorating way to start my week and it was great to be able to do it with a group. The next thing we will probably do as a group will be triathlon training but that won't be until April (more on that later). In the meantime my Tuesday run club in my town is still going strong and, hopefully, I have managed to convince one of the Monday girls to come join me and the Tuesday lot. So yay!

An extra positive to add to all of this is that the trainer from Monday run club has very kindly put together a training plan for me to help me increase my running distance and actually be able to do the half marathon I signed up for in Brighton at the end of February. So if you were thinking that activity levels would drop around Christmas you were wrong! Ha. 

I leave you with an oh so attractive photo of the four of us hardcore ladies that made it all the way from lesson 1 to the final lesson 8. Many high fives were given. 

End of week 8

Marathon Misery

As you all know, last April I entered the ballot for the London Marathon and this October I got the email saying that I hadn't managed to get a spot. Gutted to say the least. I have considered going down the charity place route but having had a look at the options I seriously doubt I will be able to raise the (scarily large) required amounts in time at this point. This means I am having to think outside the box a tad. This blog is about going from zero to marathon in a year so I need to find a marathon to run. I have found a couple of other marathon options which could work for me timing wise. However, a new option has just presented itself to me today: a triathlon. 

I have to admit I have never really given much serious thought to the idea of a triathlon. I have friends who have completed many and even a couple of friends who have completed an Iron Man. Which is just beyond human. So why a triathlon? Well the lady who runs my Monday run club is also a certified triathlon coach and she sent out an email today about a triathlon course she is thinking of running at some point in the near future. I registered my interest in a sort of spur of the moment burst of optimistic thinking which I am sure I will later come to regret. Still, I have to start somewhere, right?

The point is that, while I can say with 99.99% confidence that I will not be running the London Marathon in 2016, I will definitely be taking part in either a marathon or a triathlon. Who knows, I might do both! How's that for optimism?