Still not dead
...but I still don't have a computer, either. I have been more or less keeping up with my flist, but if there's anything you particularly want me to see, let me know.
I had a dream last night that I logged into LJ and half my flist had been deleted. Oh, LJ, you break me.
I did the City2Surf (14 km fun run) yesterday. If last year was an exercise in doing things right and having a good run (I had three goals, one minimum, one "this is really what I'm aiming for" goal and one "this would be brilliant" goal. I ended up being a minute outside the brilliant one), this was probably an exercise in what not to do and what happens when you have a bad run.
I wasn't completely unprepared, although I don't have the underlying fitness that I did last year. I ran a very hilly 12 km last weekend, and if it wasn't easy, it was certainly comfortable. But I've been running very sluggishly all week, and I came down with a cold on Thursday, so I wasn't exactly expecting to have the run of my life. I just hoped I'd get round, slowly but surely.
The hill (known locally as Heartbreak Hill, 2 km of varying steepness) broke me. I was feeling flustered before that, but as soon as it kicked in, I began walking. This was a bit of a shock - I'm never a fast runner, but I tend to get quickly into a rhythm that I can keep up for hours if I have to. This time, I just knew I'd never get up it. At the top, I began running again, but at the slightest hint of the next hill, I stopped. By 10 km, I was seriously stressed out - I could see myself just walking the last 4 km, which I really didn't want to do.
So I started to play games with myself. I pretended that all I had to do was run up and down my local beach (about 3.5 km), a run I've done countless times. I completely ignored the scenery around me; I just kept thinking, "OK, now I'm at the volleyball courts, and look, there's the surf club up there," and so on. I'm pretty sure this is the only thing that got me round. It wasn't fun, but I'm glad I did it now.
I finished. I paused to wave at my boyfriend, who to a photo of me. And then I had an asthma attack.
I've had asthma all my life, but the last time I had a true attack was about 14 years ago. It comes on frequently if I push myself when running, but as soon as I stop or slow down, it goes away. This time, it came on after I'd stopped, and didn't go away. I was walking through the finish lanes, and people kept fiddling with my race number or handing me medals and drinks, and somehow none of them noticed that I couldn't breathe, despite the fact that I was doing the genuine honking like a cow noise.
Anyway, it was all OK. I had my reliever with me, and after a few minutes the attack subsided. So a fright, but no harm done. And given that I tend to run a bit close to the edge with my asthma sometimes, probably a timely and cautionary reminder.
Today my legs are recovering, I'm feeling bloody proud of myself for getting round those last few kilometres, and I've resolved to do something about my asthma. So all in all, not bad.
I had a dream last night that I logged into LJ and half my flist had been deleted. Oh, LJ, you break me.
I did the City2Surf (14 km fun run) yesterday. If last year was an exercise in doing things right and having a good run (I had three goals, one minimum, one "this is really what I'm aiming for" goal and one "this would be brilliant" goal. I ended up being a minute outside the brilliant one), this was probably an exercise in what not to do and what happens when you have a bad run.
I wasn't completely unprepared, although I don't have the underlying fitness that I did last year. I ran a very hilly 12 km last weekend, and if it wasn't easy, it was certainly comfortable. But I've been running very sluggishly all week, and I came down with a cold on Thursday, so I wasn't exactly expecting to have the run of my life. I just hoped I'd get round, slowly but surely.
The hill (known locally as Heartbreak Hill, 2 km of varying steepness) broke me. I was feeling flustered before that, but as soon as it kicked in, I began walking. This was a bit of a shock - I'm never a fast runner, but I tend to get quickly into a rhythm that I can keep up for hours if I have to. This time, I just knew I'd never get up it. At the top, I began running again, but at the slightest hint of the next hill, I stopped. By 10 km, I was seriously stressed out - I could see myself just walking the last 4 km, which I really didn't want to do.
So I started to play games with myself. I pretended that all I had to do was run up and down my local beach (about 3.5 km), a run I've done countless times. I completely ignored the scenery around me; I just kept thinking, "OK, now I'm at the volleyball courts, and look, there's the surf club up there," and so on. I'm pretty sure this is the only thing that got me round. It wasn't fun, but I'm glad I did it now.
I finished. I paused to wave at my boyfriend, who to a photo of me. And then I had an asthma attack.
I've had asthma all my life, but the last time I had a true attack was about 14 years ago. It comes on frequently if I push myself when running, but as soon as I stop or slow down, it goes away. This time, it came on after I'd stopped, and didn't go away. I was walking through the finish lanes, and people kept fiddling with my race number or handing me medals and drinks, and somehow none of them noticed that I couldn't breathe, despite the fact that I was doing the genuine honking like a cow noise.
Anyway, it was all OK. I had my reliever with me, and after a few minutes the attack subsided. So a fright, but no harm done. And given that I tend to run a bit close to the edge with my asthma sometimes, probably a timely and cautionary reminder.
Today my legs are recovering, I'm feeling bloody proud of myself for getting round those last few kilometres, and I've resolved to do something about my asthma. So all in all, not bad.