A sheepish hello from me tonight. I missed a blog last week as I didn't feel I could blog after not going for a run. Haven't actually been for a run this week either but thought I really should confess to you all!
I've got tonnes of excuses but I won't bore you with them and let's face it, if I can find time to watch X-Factor and Masterchef The Professionals (which just makes me sit on the settee, get hungry and want to eat- very counterproductive) then I can probably find time to go for a little run.
The funny thing is, I actually quite fancy going for a run. My new trainers have arrived and I want to try them. I've started to feel all sluggish and yucky and I'm sure my clothes are starting to shrink again.... (surely nothing to do with Masterchef and large amounts of cheese and crackers I've consumed). When I was walking Ruby the other day, it felt so good to be out in the fresh air that I broke into a little trot along the ring road. Well that must have made for quite a sight. For a start, spotty wellies aren't the best running footwear. A nice purple duffle coat complimented the welly boots nicely but again isn't designed with running in mind. And our dog is a fairly aged, lame labrador who recently ruptured both her cruciate ligaments and has needed a 10 week course of hydrotherapy (don't ask- she even got a hot-tub session included each week) and only does running when food is involved (she's a bit like her owner in that respect). Maybe I should set out little treats at every mile marker to help motivate me to run? I can just picture a Malteser celebration at mile 1, some Ben and Jerry's at mile 2, bit of cake at mile 3, cookie at mile 4..... this could definitely work for me. Anyway, getting back to the point, I looked faintly ridiculous hopping along the road with my welly boots slapping into the pavement, my dufflecoat flapping around and dragging a reluctant labrador behind me so the trot was short-lived but I wanted to run. That's the point- I- me, Elizabeth Elsey of Aspley Lane, WANTED to RUN. Extraordinary. Clearly I didn't want to run enough to brave the wind and driving rain and 3 degree C temps the following evening when I'd planned to run but abandoned in favour of Greg and Mr Roux.
So how am I going to get this training done when the weather is rubbish? I think I'm going to have to join a gym so I can at least get on the treadmill for an hour. My ideal gym is situated quite literally a stone's throw from our house as we live opposite a beautiful, clean, non-smelly David Lloyd gym resplendant with a lovely playarea for kids, outdoor pool heated all year round at the cost of several iceburgs (the cold things in North Pole not the lettuces best served in a prawn cocktail but not often on masterchef) and rows of treadmills with individual TVs to watch whilst running. Running AND Masterchef- perfect. Sadly, it also costs about the amount I'd get for leasing a kidney out on a monthly basis. So I think I need to hunt for a new gym which ideal attributes include several treadmills, no pervy men (in fairness even DLs had it's share of them) and a swimming pool for when I really can't face any more running. If you live near me and have any suggestions, please let me know!
On a slightly sadder note, Matt's Grandma died this evening. She was a lovely, clever, witty woman who I've had the privilege of knowing for the past 13 years. Grandma (I wasn't allowed to call her Mildred) lived until she was a few days short of 91 years. That's how old you should be when you die. Not 38.
Until next time..... (by which I WILL have been running.)
http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/longrunlizzy
Sunday 11 December 2011
Monday 28 November 2011
A first birthday
I usually write this blog on a Sunday night. It's become my little Sunday night ritual: get Katherine to bed, find a tasty evening snack, put either SCD or X-Factor results on the TV and settle down to write this blog. But last night I chose not to because it needed to wait until today.
Today. Today is the first birthday. The first of Mark's birthdays that he's not here to celebrate.
I've spent all day pretending to be upbeat, professional, chirpy Lizzy the surgical registrar. I've laughed a hollow laugh at bad jokes and I've stuck cameras up several bottoms (that is my job- I'm not a weirdo) and inspected guts for badness. I've chatted about inane things with no consequence or meaning and I've eaten pasta for lunch in the mess with my colleagues and friends. And all day I've felt so sad.
I guess with grief there'll always be good and bad days and I think recently it's really starting to sink in that we can't skype Mark and we won't be able to pop in and see him when we're home at Christmas and there's no address to send a card to this Christmas or birthday. And it sucks. I mean it really, really stinks. It's just rubbish. (I'd love to use more colourful language but probably not appropriate for a Vicar's wife but I know Verz would have laughed at it).
A lot of people talk about how God took Mark "home" at His time of choosing and that it was God's plan. I know that may help many come to terms with his death and I hope that's helpful to them but it doesn't sit right with me. I can't imagine that the God I worship ever "chooses" to end lives prematurely and I'm quite sure life had more in store for Mark and that God had even bigger and better plans for him. So that leaves me with why did Mark die? Well, maybe it's the doctor in me but quite simply, he died of natural causes that we don't fully understand and that seems so bonkers for a young, fit, healthy man. And I believe that God is sad with us too. There's so much I don't understand about faith, God, medicine and life but for now, I'm holding on to it.
And that's where running this stupid marathon fits in: because if we want to help understand more about heart disease, more money is needed for research. So please sponsor me. If you knew Verz, consider it the birthday present or Christmas present that this year you tragically won't be buying.
http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/longrunlizzy
Thanks.
Happy 39th Birthday Mark.
Today. Today is the first birthday. The first of Mark's birthdays that he's not here to celebrate.
I've spent all day pretending to be upbeat, professional, chirpy Lizzy the surgical registrar. I've laughed a hollow laugh at bad jokes and I've stuck cameras up several bottoms (that is my job- I'm not a weirdo) and inspected guts for badness. I've chatted about inane things with no consequence or meaning and I've eaten pasta for lunch in the mess with my colleagues and friends. And all day I've felt so sad.
I guess with grief there'll always be good and bad days and I think recently it's really starting to sink in that we can't skype Mark and we won't be able to pop in and see him when we're home at Christmas and there's no address to send a card to this Christmas or birthday. And it sucks. I mean it really, really stinks. It's just rubbish. (I'd love to use more colourful language but probably not appropriate for a Vicar's wife but I know Verz would have laughed at it).
A lot of people talk about how God took Mark "home" at His time of choosing and that it was God's plan. I know that may help many come to terms with his death and I hope that's helpful to them but it doesn't sit right with me. I can't imagine that the God I worship ever "chooses" to end lives prematurely and I'm quite sure life had more in store for Mark and that God had even bigger and better plans for him. So that leaves me with why did Mark die? Well, maybe it's the doctor in me but quite simply, he died of natural causes that we don't fully understand and that seems so bonkers for a young, fit, healthy man. And I believe that God is sad with us too. There's so much I don't understand about faith, God, medicine and life but for now, I'm holding on to it.
And that's where running this stupid marathon fits in: because if we want to help understand more about heart disease, more money is needed for research. So please sponsor me. If you knew Verz, consider it the birthday present or Christmas present that this year you tragically won't be buying.
http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/longrunlizzy
Thanks.
Happy 39th Birthday Mark.
Sunday 20 November 2011
Reaching your full potential.....or having a cuppa, cake and a sit down
Another week, another lack of training. Oh dear! But in my defense I have been beyond busy with work, finishing audit projects, writing abstracts for a conference and trying to get ready for a church Christmas fayre- Santa needed help choosing presents (on a budget) for all the children coming to see him in Aspley.
But we'll move swiftly (unlike my running style) on from talk of a lack of training to a whole day of talking about training in London. Yesterday saw me getting up at silly o'clock and boarding a train to head down to the British Heart Foundation headquarters. There was a lot of important information to be taken on board yesterday but the most important information I need to communicate to you is not about how awful heart disease can be, about how you must stop smoking NOW, or how I really, really need to get more training in and stop eating cake but is, in fact, wait for it..... that first class train travel is BRILLIANT. Seriously! I've never travelled anywhere, by any modality first class ever but it was only £2 more per ticket when I booked my journeys a couple of months ago and it was so worth it. Big, comfy seat; warm, quiet carriage; free wifi and tea/ coffee; nice big table all to myself. Perfection. I really enjoyed it. Did stick out like a very sore thumb (or thighs in my case) in my running gear and shabby trainers however!
Anyway, I'm meant to be talking about the training day and not the luxury travel I enjoyed. There was so much covered that I'm going to have to leave some for another time but the funniest part was definitely having my gait analysis done. Cor blimey, that sounds posh don't it?!
Gait analysis involves taking your trainers off and running up and down whilst trying to land a foot on a special pressure sensor pad. Generally they need 3-4 good strikes for both feet. The first couple of laps I managed to miss the pressure pad completely as my little brain freaked out and thought "don't land on the pad- what if they decide you run like a chimp with a limp" and I took a gazelle-like leap and missed it entirely. Now that's how to look like a class A plonker. Once my neurones had decided to relax I managed to actually land on the pad a few times but it's really hard to run "normally" whilst bare-foot, being watched by others waiting to be analysed and with a woman on her hands and knees staring at your running style. I felt compelled to launch into some kind of ministry for funny walks effort but thankfully controlled my urges. The other thing I was dead nervous about was getting out of breath doing the gait analysis! Seriously, the strip was maybe 10metres and I ran up and down it easily 12-15 times. Thankfully the training is paying off as didn't so much break a sweat. What a relief!
Then the very serious lady takes a look at what trainers you've been running in (mine are about as old as God and definitely not designed for running, let alone long distance running) and in my case, sighs, rubs her forehead, frowns and exclaims "these have zero support, and will be doing nothing for your foot arches, which incidentally are really quite high, and don't have anyway near enough cushioning". Oh good. I can feel a large sum of money for new trainers is about to leave me.
Then we had a good look at her fancy computer program which was actually really interesting. Turns out I run all bouncy and on the balls of my feet (who'd have thought it- me being bouncy and enthusiastic? Surely there's been a mistake...!) with hardly any pressure through the heels. This style is suited to the new craze of bare-foot running. I laughed when she mentioned this. I live in and therefore run around Aspley. I can't remember the last time I didn't see broken glass somewhere on one of my routes so it looks like barefoot is out then. So I now have a new pair of Adidas something-or-other trainers on order which I'm assured are going to improve my running efficiency, decrease my aches and pains and make me zoom around those 26.2 miles, Marvellous. Do they have attached wheels and a motor then?
Then it was time for the training run with all the other marathon-ites. This is where it started to go wrong. A gentle jog from headquarters to a running track at Regent's park at conversational pace. I am quite sure that there is no such thing as moving any faster than walking at conversational pace. However, the tall, lean, athletic girl in matching expensive running gear who regularly runs 15 miles at a weekend and decided to run with me is very happy to jog and chat. Turns out, I'm good at jogging and listening, along with the occasional two-word question (to keep her talking so I don't have to waste precious breath on words) and an emphatic "hmmm". Once we got to the track we were introduced to the fresh torture that is Threshold training. In short, this is running for short bursts (3 mins for begginer numpties like me and 5 minutes for scary, running girl and the like) at 80% of full potential and then resting for 90 seconds and then repeating 4 times. Hideous. I was overtaken by a balding, overweight, middle-aged man. I thought I might die.
Now as you're all aware if you've been reading this, I'm running this stupid marathon in memory of Mark. I thought I might die during this threshold run business and quite frankly, two wrongs don't make a right. This was the kind of "Stop running NOOOOOWWWW" thought that was going through my head whilst gasping for breath and clutching my side with a terrible stitch. I've not had stitch before but I really hope I never have it again. OWWW.
Anyway, once I'd managed to get some blood flowing back to my head and regain control of my ludicrous thoughts, we had to jog back to the headquarters. Things improved here. I met a lovely girl who's also running London and is new to running. And guess what... I can run a bit better than her!! Extraordinary. She was walking (slowly) back to HQ so I stopped, walked with her for a couple of mins, persuaded her to run again and ran along beside her and it turns out that at slow-new-girl to running pace rather than scary-keen-serious runner pace, I can chat whilst jogging! I was doing the talking, she was doing the listening and "hmmm"ing and afterwards we had a good giggle about just how useless we are at running. I'll be looking out for her on the big day. 22 weeks away and counting.....
Next time: marathon nutrition (sadly, no cake)
But we'll move swiftly (unlike my running style) on from talk of a lack of training to a whole day of talking about training in London. Yesterday saw me getting up at silly o'clock and boarding a train to head down to the British Heart Foundation headquarters. There was a lot of important information to be taken on board yesterday but the most important information I need to communicate to you is not about how awful heart disease can be, about how you must stop smoking NOW, or how I really, really need to get more training in and stop eating cake but is, in fact, wait for it..... that first class train travel is BRILLIANT. Seriously! I've never travelled anywhere, by any modality first class ever but it was only £2 more per ticket when I booked my journeys a couple of months ago and it was so worth it. Big, comfy seat; warm, quiet carriage; free wifi and tea/ coffee; nice big table all to myself. Perfection. I really enjoyed it. Did stick out like a very sore thumb (or thighs in my case) in my running gear and shabby trainers however!
 |
| Ready to leave. Note my little supporter all ready to leave at 06:55 also. |
Anyway, I'm meant to be talking about the training day and not the luxury travel I enjoyed. There was so much covered that I'm going to have to leave some for another time but the funniest part was definitely having my gait analysis done. Cor blimey, that sounds posh don't it?!
Gait analysis involves taking your trainers off and running up and down whilst trying to land a foot on a special pressure sensor pad. Generally they need 3-4 good strikes for both feet. The first couple of laps I managed to miss the pressure pad completely as my little brain freaked out and thought "don't land on the pad- what if they decide you run like a chimp with a limp" and I took a gazelle-like leap and missed it entirely. Now that's how to look like a class A plonker. Once my neurones had decided to relax I managed to actually land on the pad a few times but it's really hard to run "normally" whilst bare-foot, being watched by others waiting to be analysed and with a woman on her hands and knees staring at your running style. I felt compelled to launch into some kind of ministry for funny walks effort but thankfully controlled my urges. The other thing I was dead nervous about was getting out of breath doing the gait analysis! Seriously, the strip was maybe 10metres and I ran up and down it easily 12-15 times. Thankfully the training is paying off as didn't so much break a sweat. What a relief!
Then the very serious lady takes a look at what trainers you've been running in (mine are about as old as God and definitely not designed for running, let alone long distance running) and in my case, sighs, rubs her forehead, frowns and exclaims "these have zero support, and will be doing nothing for your foot arches, which incidentally are really quite high, and don't have anyway near enough cushioning". Oh good. I can feel a large sum of money for new trainers is about to leave me.
Then we had a good look at her fancy computer program which was actually really interesting. Turns out I run all bouncy and on the balls of my feet (who'd have thought it- me being bouncy and enthusiastic? Surely there's been a mistake...!) with hardly any pressure through the heels. This style is suited to the new craze of bare-foot running. I laughed when she mentioned this. I live in and therefore run around Aspley. I can't remember the last time I didn't see broken glass somewhere on one of my routes so it looks like barefoot is out then. So I now have a new pair of Adidas something-or-other trainers on order which I'm assured are going to improve my running efficiency, decrease my aches and pains and make me zoom around those 26.2 miles, Marvellous. Do they have attached wheels and a motor then?
Then it was time for the training run with all the other marathon-ites. This is where it started to go wrong. A gentle jog from headquarters to a running track at Regent's park at conversational pace. I am quite sure that there is no such thing as moving any faster than walking at conversational pace. However, the tall, lean, athletic girl in matching expensive running gear who regularly runs 15 miles at a weekend and decided to run with me is very happy to jog and chat. Turns out, I'm good at jogging and listening, along with the occasional two-word question (to keep her talking so I don't have to waste precious breath on words) and an emphatic "hmmm". Once we got to the track we were introduced to the fresh torture that is Threshold training. In short, this is running for short bursts (3 mins for begginer numpties like me and 5 minutes for scary, running girl and the like) at 80% of full potential and then resting for 90 seconds and then repeating 4 times. Hideous. I was overtaken by a balding, overweight, middle-aged man. I thought I might die.
Now as you're all aware if you've been reading this, I'm running this stupid marathon in memory of Mark. I thought I might die during this threshold run business and quite frankly, two wrongs don't make a right. This was the kind of "Stop running NOOOOOWWWW" thought that was going through my head whilst gasping for breath and clutching my side with a terrible stitch. I've not had stitch before but I really hope I never have it again. OWWW.
Anyway, once I'd managed to get some blood flowing back to my head and regain control of my ludicrous thoughts, we had to jog back to the headquarters. Things improved here. I met a lovely girl who's also running London and is new to running. And guess what... I can run a bit better than her!! Extraordinary. She was walking (slowly) back to HQ so I stopped, walked with her for a couple of mins, persuaded her to run again and ran along beside her and it turns out that at slow-new-girl to running pace rather than scary-keen-serious runner pace, I can chat whilst jogging! I was doing the talking, she was doing the listening and "hmmm"ing and afterwards we had a good giggle about just how useless we are at running. I'll be looking out for her on the big day. 22 weeks away and counting.....
Next time: marathon nutrition (sadly, no cake)
Sunday 13 November 2011
A little bit further than not very far
Hello!
Sunday = Strictly Results, X Factor results, making sarnies for Monday at work, and trying not to dribble on the settee during your afternoon snooze (owners of toddlers excluded). It also = blog time and for today it = a new personal best!
In fact today has seen two personal bests. No, I am not referring to the record amounts of noise the children in our church can make at inopportune moments. Or the record for the amount of roast chicken eaten in one sitting (though I did attempt this). But, wait for it..... I ran FURTHER than ever before! And I ran the first 3 miles FASTER than ever before! Get me! Further AND faster! These are very positive words. Admittedly to run a bit further than not very far and faster than not very fast isn't huge but I'm quite proud of myself.
Today I ran twice round The National Watersports centre. This doesn't just mean circling the canteen twice whilst tucking into a cream tea (although that sounds fabulous) but actually running 5.93 miles. I'll say that again..... 5.93 miles! It took me 1hour and 6 minutes. I managed to run almost all of it and just a short walk at one point where my short, but chunky legs felt like they might collapse beneath my fairly substantial weight. But even with the walk, that's an average of 11:08mins per mile which is reasonably respectable. So that's the further bit.
I managed to run the first 3 miles of today's run in a blistering, blinding, blink and you'll miss me (in a taking 40 winks rather than a blink kind of way) average of 10:30mins/mile. Again, for anyone who knows anything about running, this is actually not awesome at all. The point is though, that when I started I could barely get to the top of the road before thanking God for the pedestrian crossing, the stop that creates and then taking a long time to stumble 2 miles. Progress!
On Thursday, I ran 3.67 miles (6K) in 40mins which was pretty good for me too.
So only two runs but both pretty reasonable pace. So I now owe my sponsorship pot £9.60- £1/mile/week. Maybe you could do 50p/mile/week? Or 10p/mile/week? Pretty please? (PS. Thanks to my first sponsor- Becca Williams is a lovely girl!)
http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/longrunlizzy
During today's run, there were some lovely moments when I managed a little smile to myself between the beetroot faced grimaces. There were lots of geese flying perfectly in formation- always makes me wonder how they're so organised. There some funny, little boys on bikes wobbling around with parents trying to keep up. There were some swans flying so low that one had it's feet scuttling along the water and looked like it was running on the water. There was also a memorial to Wayne Smith. I don't know Wayne but it just so happened that his memorial is next to some benches where I started and ended my run. Turns out that Wayne was 36 when he died. Another sporting, fit person dying in their 30's and another motivating sight for making all the pain, puffing and sweat (don't even get me started on the sweating) worthwhile if it raises money for research into medical science.
The benches, incidentally, were brilliant for collapsing on to after my run and taking a couple of pics.....
Next time: A day at BHF headquarters with other runners. EEEEK!
Sunday = Strictly Results, X Factor results, making sarnies for Monday at work, and trying not to dribble on the settee during your afternoon snooze (owners of toddlers excluded). It also = blog time and for today it = a new personal best!
In fact today has seen two personal bests. No, I am not referring to the record amounts of noise the children in our church can make at inopportune moments. Or the record for the amount of roast chicken eaten in one sitting (though I did attempt this). But, wait for it..... I ran FURTHER than ever before! And I ran the first 3 miles FASTER than ever before! Get me! Further AND faster! These are very positive words. Admittedly to run a bit further than not very far and faster than not very fast isn't huge but I'm quite proud of myself.
Today I ran twice round The National Watersports centre. This doesn't just mean circling the canteen twice whilst tucking into a cream tea (although that sounds fabulous) but actually running 5.93 miles. I'll say that again..... 5.93 miles! It took me 1hour and 6 minutes. I managed to run almost all of it and just a short walk at one point where my short, but chunky legs felt like they might collapse beneath my fairly substantial weight. But even with the walk, that's an average of 11:08mins per mile which is reasonably respectable. So that's the further bit.
I managed to run the first 3 miles of today's run in a blistering, blinding, blink and you'll miss me (in a taking 40 winks rather than a blink kind of way) average of 10:30mins/mile. Again, for anyone who knows anything about running, this is actually not awesome at all. The point is though, that when I started I could barely get to the top of the road before thanking God for the pedestrian crossing, the stop that creates and then taking a long time to stumble 2 miles. Progress!
On Thursday, I ran 3.67 miles (6K) in 40mins which was pretty good for me too.
So only two runs but both pretty reasonable pace. So I now owe my sponsorship pot £9.60- £1/mile/week. Maybe you could do 50p/mile/week? Or 10p/mile/week? Pretty please? (PS. Thanks to my first sponsor- Becca Williams is a lovely girl!)
http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/longrunlizzy
During today's run, there were some lovely moments when I managed a little smile to myself between the beetroot faced grimaces. There were lots of geese flying perfectly in formation- always makes me wonder how they're so organised. There some funny, little boys on bikes wobbling around with parents trying to keep up. There were some swans flying so low that one had it's feet scuttling along the water and looked like it was running on the water. There was also a memorial to Wayne Smith. I don't know Wayne but it just so happened that his memorial is next to some benches where I started and ended my run. Turns out that Wayne was 36 when he died. Another sporting, fit person dying in their 30's and another motivating sight for making all the pain, puffing and sweat (don't even get me started on the sweating) worthwhile if it raises money for research into medical science.
The benches, incidentally, were brilliant for collapsing on to after my run and taking a couple of pics.....
 |
| For Wayne |
 |
| This doesn't do justice to quite how red I was. So attractive. |
 |
| Tired feet |
Next time: A day at BHF headquarters with other runners. EEEEK!
Sunday 6 November 2011
The Reason
Hello!
Training summary this week: NONE! Ha! Various reasons including a community bonfire for 130 to organise (good times) but I'm sure if I'd tried hard I could have done better. So it's a cheap week on the self-sponsorship front but I am vowing to do better this week.
Let's move on from this teeny, tiny problem of a lack of running.
I've been reading a great book called something like "A non-running woman's Marathon". It's not called that but it's similar and the book is in my bedroom, "Downton Abbey" final episode is on and frankly I'm not walking upstairs to fetch it. Anyway, it's written by someone who has even less fitness than I (i.e. literally none- she describes reaching for the remote control as strenuous) who decided to run a marathon in memory of her Grandad. She talks about needing a good reason for running such a ridiculously long way that will stand up to the persuasive, crazy thoughts of an oxygen-deprived brain in training. For example, the reason of needing to get thinner falls down when you're running. I simply think "bring on the cake if it gets me out of even another step". But a good reason, like a late Grandfather is enough to keep you going.
You will already know that I'm going through this ordeal in order to raise money for British Heart Foundation in memory of our best mate, Verz as he was known to us. I've already cried sad tears (and therefore, wasted precious body fluids) whilst out running, thinking about Verz as my inspiration. Mark (aka Verz) died very suddenly in February of this year and we have been left devastated by the loss of him. I'm sure I'll write more about how Mark, his life and premature death have affected us in the future but he was my husband's best mate and his words sum him up best. So here is the tribute to Mark from his funeral, written and read by my husband, the lovely and brave Matt Elsey.
Training summary this week: NONE! Ha! Various reasons including a community bonfire for 130 to organise (good times) but I'm sure if I'd tried hard I could have done better. So it's a cheap week on the self-sponsorship front but I am vowing to do better this week.
Let's move on from this teeny, tiny problem of a lack of running.
I've been reading a great book called something like "A non-running woman's Marathon". It's not called that but it's similar and the book is in my bedroom, "Downton Abbey" final episode is on and frankly I'm not walking upstairs to fetch it. Anyway, it's written by someone who has even less fitness than I (i.e. literally none- she describes reaching for the remote control as strenuous) who decided to run a marathon in memory of her Grandad. She talks about needing a good reason for running such a ridiculously long way that will stand up to the persuasive, crazy thoughts of an oxygen-deprived brain in training. For example, the reason of needing to get thinner falls down when you're running. I simply think "bring on the cake if it gets me out of even another step". But a good reason, like a late Grandfather is enough to keep you going.
You will already know that I'm going through this ordeal in order to raise money for British Heart Foundation in memory of our best mate, Verz as he was known to us. I've already cried sad tears (and therefore, wasted precious body fluids) whilst out running, thinking about Verz as my inspiration. Mark (aka Verz) died very suddenly in February of this year and we have been left devastated by the loss of him. I'm sure I'll write more about how Mark, his life and premature death have affected us in the future but he was my husband's best mate and his words sum him up best. So here is the tribute to Mark from his funeral, written and read by my husband, the lovely and brave Matt Elsey.
This is the easiest thing I have ever had to do yet the hardest thing at the same time. I consider it an honour to pay tribute to my best friend, Verz. I tried to write Mark but I don’t think I have ever called him that! Trying to sum up his life, personality, character and calling in a few minutes, as you will all appreciate is a pretty big task, in fact it is impossible.
I can’t give you a definitive moment when we became friends, we just did. Our friendship, although focused around our involvement with the corps here in Felixstowe, quickly developed into a relationship that others would probably be described as brotherly. In Fact, my mum recalled one evening Verz coming to our house about tea time and enjoyed a steak or something rather tasty only for my Dad to be told on his arrival home that Verz had eaten his tea and there were some sausage in the fridge!
I am not the only one that is grateful to Verz for his friendship and willingness to share his life and home in our youth. His house became the venue for numerous takeaways, board games, phase ten marathons, friends viewing on a Friday and many many happy memories of our youth group. Allow, he did get some ribbing for his strange obsession with Coke. This was compounded by a Doll he brought that seemed to be watching our every move! If you were to look in his fridge at his house at the Downs it would have consisted of Milk, butter and coke! I’m not sure his washing machine ever got used either! Even up to a couple of weeks before his passing he would return home to Jean with a load or two of washing. A domestic godess he was not but a hospitable, loving and sharing friend he always was. I, along with many others can only thank God for those years we spent sharing life with him.
To say that Verz and I were inseparable is probably not an understatement. Lizzy certainly questioned me on a number of occasions as to whom was more important in my life, Her or Verz! For example, when working for P and O Ferries we went on a romantic trip to Bruges in Belgium 3 days before Christmas, just the 3 of us. One of my lasting memories of that trip is ice skating in the city centre and 20 mins into our time Verz complaining that his right skate was hurting his foot. On closer inspection having two left skates may have been the cause. Nothing worried him, his approach to life was stress free and taking everything in his stride. No matter what the situation Verz would not faulter and would be the one prepared to come to anyone’s aid. When I left Felixstowe to go to the SA training college, I had a crash on the A12 halfway to the college. It was Verz that got in his car with my dad to pick me up and took me to London and drove back very late on a Sunday night. When Lizzy and I suffered a miscarriage 2 years ago, Verz’s response was to commit to fast and pray each week until Elsey junior was born. In one of his emails he said “After all the attitude of thanksgiving is not circumstances dependant.” Katherine was born 12 months later.
Of course Verz’s passion was sport, any sport really but of course Football. Playing as a junior for Trimley Red Devils he was spotted has having great potential as a centre back. He went on to play for the Salvation Army team in Stowemarket and is 9th on the appearance list but a lot lower for the Goal scoring one. It might have been a dream but I even remember his scoring with his foot once! Verz’s, main strength came in his strong tackling. Even in training many of us would go home having been kicked, I mean, tackled by him. He went on to manage the reserve team, which you would have thought would have meant I got picked every week but alas (mainly because I wasn’t that great) he dropped me to the bench, unless they need a Goalkeeper!
Of course, we know that sport was to become the medium in which he would invest his life and follow a calling that would take him all around the world playing football. Yet, for us the place where we spent most time was on the golf course. I was not always the most controlled golfer yet Verz had such patience. Alistar told me of a time where they were playing at Felixstowe and he decided to go for the green. First attempt in the farmers field, second the same and again the third. Not once did he lose his rag. Even though he played tough on the football pitch, he never over stepped the mark and was a true exponent of sportsman ship.
One of the greatest joys for me and so many of his friends was the year he discovered Ambassadors in Sport. On deciding to take redundancy from Lloyds TSB he made himself open to discover the next calling of God on his life. I have since discovered that the Bank offered him a really good package to stay but once he came into contact with AIS at Roots 7 years ago it was like a revelation in his life. The best testimony I can give to this revelation is the stories that have come to the fore since his death and his desire to follow where God called even when called to move to South Africa. This is a guy that was obedient in faith, always! Within a few months of his internship with AIS you knew that this was it, this was what Verz was being prepared to do. It was the calling that captured his passion for football, his desire to know God and his hope that others may know him too. I want to say thank you to AIS for investing in him and believing in him. We pray for your whole organisation as I know that there are not many parts of the AIS family he has not impacted in some way.
The things I have missed out: Him and Trevor as the ugly sisters in a youth panto, following England all around Europe, ITFC to Rome, his time at Lloyds TSB, his premed blond hair, various band trips, Sketches with the youth, his Views form Verz newsletters, his complete lack of a sense of direction, cricket for IBC, Fifa late into the night and my lasting memory will be of him shouting at our TV during the England Netherlands watch and him saying “oh no not Bopara” who then went on to smash the winning runs and so much more that you will hold dear in your memory of him.
To finish, I want to reflect my own love for this amazing friend. It was hard enough to start writing this tribute but to finish it is even more painful. The word that keeps coming up in conversation, written and spoken tribute is the word; legacy. Verz never set out to leave his own legacy but a legacy that would reflect the king of the kingdom he served. There is a sign in my office that Versey brought for me: “My Boss is a Jewish carpenter”. He knew who his boss/manager was! He would be astonished by the out pouring of love and tributes to his legacy that have come to light. Yet, he would simple shrug his shoulders, give you a little cheeky wink and smile and get on with what living out his life for God.
Bob, Jean, Michelle and Jonny, Nathan and Edward you can be proud of what Mark has not only achieved but the person he has become in the process. We will continue to pray for God’s comfort for you in the days to come.
Within the Salvation Army tradition we would say; Mark Versey good and faithful servant, Well done.
In a football tradition I invite you to give thanks through a minutes applause.
Well done Verz, Well done
Sunday 30 October 2011
Pensioners beware!
Hello to you all!
So here's a question for you.... how are your shins tonight? 'Cos mine hurt! I'm back into training, not that you'd think what I've achieved is very much but I've been for three runs this week (including last Sunday- I've decided that counts within the last week!). So Lizzy's diary of torture reads:
Sunday: 6K (3.7 miles)
Monday: 13 hour shift at work
Tuesday: 13 hour shift at work (including a very interesting story regarding an inappopriate use of batteries. Not pleasant.)
Wednesday: Travelled down to Felixstowe and had a date night with the boy. No running involved in a date night, just pizza and maltesers.
Thursday: 4K (2.5 miles) "Blowing a hooley" is the Suffolk expression for the weather conditions. i.e. practically gale force winds.
Friday: Trip to the Zoo! Thought about setting off around the lion enclosure with a string of sausages tied to me but decided Mr Lion looked quite chilled out and probably wasn't up for a jog.
Saturday: 4K (2.5 miles)
Now Saturday was an interesting run. It was my first run with a running buddy. The running buddy in question was none other than the subject of the date night: Mr Matthew Elsey. If you're not aware, Matt ran the marathon in 2010 in a reasonably respectable time of 4:45. Matt also did virtually no training as he's one of those irritatingly fit people that actually enjoys trotting around. He's also running the marathon next year when I do. He's sworn that he'll run it with me for moral support. I think we may come near to a divorce after 26.2miles of shared torture with him being all sprightly and jolly and me cursing and tripping me way round the sights of London. Anyway, so off we set on a little jog. Mum waved us off with a helpful "you look lovely, dear" (clearly the new running clothes haven't been worn enough and still look shiny and fresh).
Here's where our problems started. Matt made a joke, I tried to whack him, he dodged, I tried a crafty little kick and nearly twisted an ankle. Who says violence is bad?! Matt had agreed to run at my pace (I say run, he could have walked and overtaken me) so he obediently jogs along beside me, chatting away whilst I'm becoming more and more luminously purple and can barely utter two words together in reply. We ran along Felixstowe prom. Now for those that have never visited Felixstowe, it is a lovely little town but it has a disproportionate number of pensioners resident there. That translates to a fleet of old biddies in motorised scooter thingys. So I'm stumbling along, beetroot in the face, gasping for breath in the wind from the North Sea and there's all these smug grannies and grandpas zooming along in their battery-powered scooters. The thought going through my mind? I'M GOING TO MUG A PENSIONER FOR THEIR SPEED MACHINE!!!
I didn't. But I might next time.
Then my running "buddy" made me run even faster after promising I could walk up the really steep hill. Oh. My. Word. We ran at about 8 min/mile pace. Never, ever again.
Things I have learnt this week:
- Matt is not a good running buddy
- I can't run fast, only about as slowly as a speed walk.
- All motorbility scooters should keep away when I'm training for their own safety.
That's all for now. See you next week (provided I'm not in custody for mugging a wheelchair user).
Lizzy x
PS. I've now set up a money raising, cash donating, give BHF your pennies (but preferably pounds) site. It's http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/longrunlizzy . Feel free to start donating in advance. Little and often is a great philosophy!
So here's a question for you.... how are your shins tonight? 'Cos mine hurt! I'm back into training, not that you'd think what I've achieved is very much but I've been for three runs this week (including last Sunday- I've decided that counts within the last week!). So Lizzy's diary of torture reads:
Sunday: 6K (3.7 miles)
Monday: 13 hour shift at work
Tuesday: 13 hour shift at work (including a very interesting story regarding an inappopriate use of batteries. Not pleasant.)
Wednesday: Travelled down to Felixstowe and had a date night with the boy. No running involved in a date night, just pizza and maltesers.
Thursday: 4K (2.5 miles) "Blowing a hooley" is the Suffolk expression for the weather conditions. i.e. practically gale force winds.
Friday: Trip to the Zoo! Thought about setting off around the lion enclosure with a string of sausages tied to me but decided Mr Lion looked quite chilled out and probably wasn't up for a jog.
Saturday: 4K (2.5 miles)
Now Saturday was an interesting run. It was my first run with a running buddy. The running buddy in question was none other than the subject of the date night: Mr Matthew Elsey. If you're not aware, Matt ran the marathon in 2010 in a reasonably respectable time of 4:45. Matt also did virtually no training as he's one of those irritatingly fit people that actually enjoys trotting around. He's also running the marathon next year when I do. He's sworn that he'll run it with me for moral support. I think we may come near to a divorce after 26.2miles of shared torture with him being all sprightly and jolly and me cursing and tripping me way round the sights of London. Anyway, so off we set on a little jog. Mum waved us off with a helpful "you look lovely, dear" (clearly the new running clothes haven't been worn enough and still look shiny and fresh).
Here's where our problems started. Matt made a joke, I tried to whack him, he dodged, I tried a crafty little kick and nearly twisted an ankle. Who says violence is bad?! Matt had agreed to run at my pace (I say run, he could have walked and overtaken me) so he obediently jogs along beside me, chatting away whilst I'm becoming more and more luminously purple and can barely utter two words together in reply. We ran along Felixstowe prom. Now for those that have never visited Felixstowe, it is a lovely little town but it has a disproportionate number of pensioners resident there. That translates to a fleet of old biddies in motorised scooter thingys. So I'm stumbling along, beetroot in the face, gasping for breath in the wind from the North Sea and there's all these smug grannies and grandpas zooming along in their battery-powered scooters. The thought going through my mind? I'M GOING TO MUG A PENSIONER FOR THEIR SPEED MACHINE!!!
I didn't. But I might next time.
Then my running "buddy" made me run even faster after promising I could walk up the really steep hill. Oh. My. Word. We ran at about 8 min/mile pace. Never, ever again.
Things I have learnt this week:
- Matt is not a good running buddy
- I can't run fast, only about as slowly as a speed walk.
- All motorbility scooters should keep away when I'm training for their own safety.
That's all for now. See you next week (provided I'm not in custody for mugging a wheelchair user).
Lizzy x
PS. I've now set up a money raising, cash donating, give BHF your pennies (but preferably pounds) site. It's http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/longrunlizzy . Feel free to start donating in advance. Little and often is a great philosophy!
Sunday 23 October 2011
A lapse of effort....
Hello!
I'm aware it's been a while since I last blogged. Four weeks in fact. It's also four weeks since I last went for a run. UNTIL TODAY! Back on track. Or back on Aspley Lane actually.
I've got tonnes of excuses for why I haven't been for a run in the last weeks. Some of them are even true.
- I had a really nasty bout of tonsillitis
- I worked some night shifts and a few long days shifts and was too knackered to run
- My right leg fell off
- Matt went away and I can't run with no-one to look after Katherine
- Someone stole my trainers
- I'm a bit lazy
- I prefer the settee to running
- We got snowed in..... (actually I might pull that one out of the bag as an excuse in December)
- I've had tonnes of other stuff to do rather than run
The problem with being public about my useless running is that loads of people ask me how I'm getting on. This is a conversation I had with one of my bosses this week:
Boss: So how's the training going?
Me: Training for what?
Boss: The marathon, idiot.
Me: Oh yeah.... that.
Boss: Running....?
Me: Yes, I believe it's a forward motion faster than walking.
Lots of theatre staff keep asking how my training is going too and have even, very helpfully, suggested a specialist running shop with NHS staff discount, recommended special socks and given me inspirational talks. One of the staff (Hi Donna- if you ever read this!) laughs each time she asks how I'm getting on with a "I suspect you might die trying to do this but it's very funny watching you squirm every time I ask" grin. Cheeky. But true.
The thing I've realised is that it's so easy to get out of a habit. It's SO hard to get back to it again. The thought of going for a run has been tormenting me. I'm back to that feeling of nausea every time I consider a little trot up the road.
So what I need is help. And that's where you horrible, teasing, chuckling, meanies come in. I hereby give you all permission to nag/ moan/ poke me every time you see me and ask why I haven't been for a run and cheer/ jump around/ yelp a yippee when I proudly tell you I have been. I think I need lots of positive encouragement and lots of hitting with a big stick to get me going too. So please help!
Tonight I dragged my sorry self and trendy, new training togs out on the road. I did my "usual" (though not for the past month...) route of 6K in 42 minutes which isn't too bad given it's been a while. Plus it was windy. Running in windy weather is awful- it takes your breath away and makes your mouth even drier than a dusty playgound. Bleugh.
Anyway, the important thing is that the first crucial run is done. I'm back to training. Oh joy, oh wonder, oh brilliance (said most defiitely in a dour tone with heavy sarcasm).
Right. Best go and massage my painful calfs/ calves (still haven't worked that one out and it really does have entirely different connotations). Until next week..... xx
PS. If he can do it, then I can! Cor blimey.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-15330421
I'm aware it's been a while since I last blogged. Four weeks in fact. It's also four weeks since I last went for a run. UNTIL TODAY! Back on track. Or back on Aspley Lane actually.
I've got tonnes of excuses for why I haven't been for a run in the last weeks. Some of them are even true.
- I had a really nasty bout of tonsillitis
- I worked some night shifts and a few long days shifts and was too knackered to run
- My right leg fell off
- Matt went away and I can't run with no-one to look after Katherine
- Someone stole my trainers
- I'm a bit lazy
- I prefer the settee to running
- We got snowed in..... (actually I might pull that one out of the bag as an excuse in December)
- I've had tonnes of other stuff to do rather than run
The problem with being public about my useless running is that loads of people ask me how I'm getting on. This is a conversation I had with one of my bosses this week:
Boss: So how's the training going?
Me: Training for what?
Boss: The marathon, idiot.
Me: Oh yeah.... that.
Boss: Running....?
Me: Yes, I believe it's a forward motion faster than walking.
Lots of theatre staff keep asking how my training is going too and have even, very helpfully, suggested a specialist running shop with NHS staff discount, recommended special socks and given me inspirational talks. One of the staff (Hi Donna- if you ever read this!) laughs each time she asks how I'm getting on with a "I suspect you might die trying to do this but it's very funny watching you squirm every time I ask" grin. Cheeky. But true.
The thing I've realised is that it's so easy to get out of a habit. It's SO hard to get back to it again. The thought of going for a run has been tormenting me. I'm back to that feeling of nausea every time I consider a little trot up the road.
So what I need is help. And that's where you horrible, teasing, chuckling, meanies come in. I hereby give you all permission to nag/ moan/ poke me every time you see me and ask why I haven't been for a run and cheer/ jump around/ yelp a yippee when I proudly tell you I have been. I think I need lots of positive encouragement and lots of hitting with a big stick to get me going too. So please help!
Tonight I dragged my sorry self and trendy, new training togs out on the road. I did my "usual" (though not for the past month...) route of 6K in 42 minutes which isn't too bad given it's been a while. Plus it was windy. Running in windy weather is awful- it takes your breath away and makes your mouth even drier than a dusty playgound. Bleugh.
Anyway, the important thing is that the first crucial run is done. I'm back to training. Oh joy, oh wonder, oh brilliance (said most defiitely in a dour tone with heavy sarcasm).
Right. Best go and massage my painful calfs/ calves (still haven't worked that one out and it really does have entirely different connotations). Until next week..... xx
PS. If he can do it, then I can! Cor blimey.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-15330421
Sunday 18 September 2011
New Clothes!
Well it's been a terrible week for training and everywhere I look there seems to be reminders of how much work I've got to do. Last Sunday was Nottingham's Robin Hood marathon. Today was the Great North Run. Whenever I drive around the city or to work I see smug looking goody-two shoes runners casually sprinting up hills barely breaking a sweat. Advertisements for running kit seem to laugh at me from large bilboards. Or maybe I'm just feeling a bit guilty about my lack of effort this week.
This week's shameful schedule:
Sunday- 7.5K (the furthest I've ever run)
Monday- looking after my daughter in the day and then a night shift
Tuesday- sleep and another night shift
Wednesday- recover from night shift and a walk only
Thursday- work in the day, complete lack of motivation when I got home at 7pm
Friday- looking after Katherine, took her swimming- not sure splashing around with her counts as training, stayed at a friend's in the evening so no training then either
Saturday- Deep water aqua (weird but fun- 2m deep pool, flotation band strapped around your middle and lots of resistance exercise and jogging/ jacks/ kicks)
So that's one run and a deep water aqua session. And a lot of food including dinner at a friend's, a chocolate pudding, and cookies on the night shifts. And a few biscuits. And some salt and vinegar hula hoops (without doubt the best hula hoop flavour) And takeaway pizza on nights. Oh dear. Hardly the diet of a marathon runner.
But in some ways, this is good. This is my life- I'm a busy, working Mum who has lots of commitments to church and her friends and quite likes her food. Fitting training in is going to be tough some weeks and I'm bound to have weeks where the diet goes out of the window. Next week I'm doing two "Long Days" at work on Monday and Tuesday which means leaving home at 7am and not getting home until 9pm earliest. Two more days completely written off. But after that, the week is pretty clear.
My left foot hurt quite a bit after Sunday's 7.5K and I think it was the start of a bit of plantar fasciitis so actually having a week off running probably isn't a bad idea. It seems to be fine again now though so no excuses! Wednesday will definitely feature a run. Absolutely. Promise. Unless it's raining.....
I'm meant to be blogging about kit. I have no idea about what sort of stuff I need for running long distances and there is so much on the market (most of which seems entirely unnecessary). However, being a sucker for new, shiny things I scampered off to Decathlon (other sports shops are available!) in search of some motivation-inducing stuff. I returned with: new running leggings (with a cool, shiny strip thingy that might stop me getting run over at night); a fairly luminous pink vest affair (could also double for fancy dress at 80's party); a long sleeved running top for if it's cold and a running water bottle. Cool! At least I look the part now.
The water bottle is truly useless. It's got a little flip spout and the hole that the water comes through is miniscule meaning you give an almighty slurp and get a tiny 2ml of water. Now, when I'm running, I huff and puff like some sort of overweight bear having a ITU admission-worthy asthma attack and a tiny 2ml just isn't enough. Back to the drawing board on the water while training front.
I'm thinking that at some point I'll need some new trainers but am going to save this for when I need a serious motivation boost. Nothing like an urge to run than in new, shiny trainers! Lots of larger sports shops and specialist running shops do gait analysis and then try to flog you expensive running shoes designed to specifically work with your running style. At the moment I feel like I'm so unfit that I could possibly run on the treadmill in the shop in case they laughed at me. Sometimes the marathon seems such a long way out of my reach.
Next time: more about Mark Versey- the reason for this marathon madness.
This week's shameful schedule:
Sunday- 7.5K (the furthest I've ever run)
Monday- looking after my daughter in the day and then a night shift
Tuesday- sleep and another night shift
Wednesday- recover from night shift and a walk only
Thursday- work in the day, complete lack of motivation when I got home at 7pm
Friday- looking after Katherine, took her swimming- not sure splashing around with her counts as training, stayed at a friend's in the evening so no training then either
Saturday- Deep water aqua (weird but fun- 2m deep pool, flotation band strapped around your middle and lots of resistance exercise and jogging/ jacks/ kicks)
So that's one run and a deep water aqua session. And a lot of food including dinner at a friend's, a chocolate pudding, and cookies on the night shifts. And a few biscuits. And some salt and vinegar hula hoops (without doubt the best hula hoop flavour) And takeaway pizza on nights. Oh dear. Hardly the diet of a marathon runner.
But in some ways, this is good. This is my life- I'm a busy, working Mum who has lots of commitments to church and her friends and quite likes her food. Fitting training in is going to be tough some weeks and I'm bound to have weeks where the diet goes out of the window. Next week I'm doing two "Long Days" at work on Monday and Tuesday which means leaving home at 7am and not getting home until 9pm earliest. Two more days completely written off. But after that, the week is pretty clear.
My left foot hurt quite a bit after Sunday's 7.5K and I think it was the start of a bit of plantar fasciitis so actually having a week off running probably isn't a bad idea. It seems to be fine again now though so no excuses! Wednesday will definitely feature a run. Absolutely. Promise. Unless it's raining.....
I'm meant to be blogging about kit. I have no idea about what sort of stuff I need for running long distances and there is so much on the market (most of which seems entirely unnecessary). However, being a sucker for new, shiny things I scampered off to Decathlon (other sports shops are available!) in search of some motivation-inducing stuff. I returned with: new running leggings (with a cool, shiny strip thingy that might stop me getting run over at night); a fairly luminous pink vest affair (could also double for fancy dress at 80's party); a long sleeved running top for if it's cold and a running water bottle. Cool! At least I look the part now.
The water bottle is truly useless. It's got a little flip spout and the hole that the water comes through is miniscule meaning you give an almighty slurp and get a tiny 2ml of water. Now, when I'm running, I huff and puff like some sort of overweight bear having a ITU admission-worthy asthma attack and a tiny 2ml just isn't enough. Back to the drawing board on the water while training front.
I'm thinking that at some point I'll need some new trainers but am going to save this for when I need a serious motivation boost. Nothing like an urge to run than in new, shiny trainers! Lots of larger sports shops and specialist running shops do gait analysis and then try to flog you expensive running shoes designed to specifically work with your running style. At the moment I feel like I'm so unfit that I could possibly run on the treadmill in the shop in case they laughed at me. Sometimes the marathon seems such a long way out of my reach.
Next time: more about Mark Versey- the reason for this marathon madness.
Sunday 11 September 2011
Mending a broken heart with a .....Zebrafish?!
Hello!
So, it's one week into my "official" (very much in inverted commas- but I am trying hard!) training. Week One has involved the following:
Saturday 3rd- 40 lengths swim in 30 mins
Sunday 4th- 4K jog/run- see last blog. It hurt. A lot. Must stretch before and after running.
Monday 5th- REST!
Tuesday 6th- 3 miles on cross trainer, 3.5 miles on bike
Wednesday 7th -REST!
Thursday 8th- 6K jog/ run/ walk (First thing in the morning, not good. Felt exhausted!)
Friday 9th- Walk 2 hours total.
Not exactly stuck to the plan but it's better than nothing. And, I have great news of joy and wonder.....
A new record has been set in my life! I jogged/ ran/ stumbled for 7.5K this afternoon! Whilst this is not very far in comparison to the final goal, it is by far the furthest that I have ever travelled at more than a walk. Forgot to check the clock before I left but I think it took me somewhere between 50 and 55 mins which isn't fast but let's face it, I'm not going to be completing this marathon in record time. I'll settle for just completing it to be honest!
Whilst writing this, I thought "I wonder what percentage that is of our far I have to run on the big day." Oh my. The marathon is a whopping 26.2 miles which is a mammoth 42K!
I've got over 5 times further to run than what I did today! This has brought me out in a cold sweat. Best to move on from facts and figures sharpish.
Anyway, this blog is meant to be about British Heart Foundation.
So here's getting back to facts and figures of a slightly more grave nature than how far I can't run.
About 2.7 million people in the UK live with heart disease. That's a lot aint it?
One in every 145 babies is born with a congenital heart disease. That works out as 12 babies with a heart defect of some sort born EVERY day. Blimey.
Breast cancer is very well known about and publicised (and absolutely, rightfully so) but women are THREE times more likely to die of coronary heart disease than of breast cancer.
One of the current research projects run by BHF is called "Mending Broken Hearts". It's all about a random little zebrafish. This zebrafish is pretty special and has a skill worthy of display to Simon and his Britain's Got Talent crew. The zebrafish can mend it's own broken heart. If its heart muscle is damaged, no sweat, no bother, no blue light ambulances needed, it simply recovers and hey presto, back to full strength. Now the thing with us humans is that if we damage our heart muscle, it never recovers. Scarred and pretty useless. Sometimes worse than useless. This leads to heart failure which is pretty much as bad as it sounds. Go to www.BHF.org.uk/research to find out more or watch this slightly cheesey video: http://vimeo.com/19384995
So that's just one of the BHF projects and a pretty good reason for you to all dig deep and donate pots and pots of your hard-earned cash or ill-gotten gains. And if you can't afford pots and pots then just a few quid will do. We'll talk more about that in the future! Chaaching! (Did I mention I've set a goal of £2500?)
Lovely. That's all for now. Next time..... New Clothes!
So, it's one week into my "official" (very much in inverted commas- but I am trying hard!) training. Week One has involved the following:
Saturday 3rd- 40 lengths swim in 30 mins
Sunday 4th- 4K jog/run- see last blog. It hurt. A lot. Must stretch before and after running.
Monday 5th- REST!
Tuesday 6th- 3 miles on cross trainer, 3.5 miles on bike
Wednesday 7th -REST!
Thursday 8th- 6K jog/ run/ walk (First thing in the morning, not good. Felt exhausted!)
Friday 9th- Walk 2 hours total.
Not exactly stuck to the plan but it's better than nothing. And, I have great news of joy and wonder.....
A new record has been set in my life! I jogged/ ran/ stumbled for 7.5K this afternoon! Whilst this is not very far in comparison to the final goal, it is by far the furthest that I have ever travelled at more than a walk. Forgot to check the clock before I left but I think it took me somewhere between 50 and 55 mins which isn't fast but let's face it, I'm not going to be completing this marathon in record time. I'll settle for just completing it to be honest!
Whilst writing this, I thought "I wonder what percentage that is of our far I have to run on the big day." Oh my. The marathon is a whopping 26.2 miles which is a mammoth 42K!
I've got over 5 times further to run than what I did today! This has brought me out in a cold sweat. Best to move on from facts and figures sharpish.
Anyway, this blog is meant to be about British Heart Foundation.
So here's getting back to facts and figures of a slightly more grave nature than how far I can't run.
About 2.7 million people in the UK live with heart disease. That's a lot aint it?
One in every 145 babies is born with a congenital heart disease. That works out as 12 babies with a heart defect of some sort born EVERY day. Blimey.
Breast cancer is very well known about and publicised (and absolutely, rightfully so) but women are THREE times more likely to die of coronary heart disease than of breast cancer.
One of the current research projects run by BHF is called "Mending Broken Hearts". It's all about a random little zebrafish. This zebrafish is pretty special and has a skill worthy of display to Simon and his Britain's Got Talent crew. The zebrafish can mend it's own broken heart. If its heart muscle is damaged, no sweat, no bother, no blue light ambulances needed, it simply recovers and hey presto, back to full strength. Now the thing with us humans is that if we damage our heart muscle, it never recovers. Scarred and pretty useless. Sometimes worse than useless. This leads to heart failure which is pretty much as bad as it sounds. Go to www.BHF.org.uk/research to find out more or watch this slightly cheesey video: http://vimeo.com/19384995
So that's just one of the BHF projects and a pretty good reason for you to all dig deep and donate pots and pots of your hard-earned cash or ill-gotten gains. And if you can't afford pots and pots then just a few quid will do. We'll talk more about that in the future! Chaaching! (Did I mention I've set a goal of £2500?)
Lovely. That's all for now. Next time..... New Clothes!
Sunday 4 September 2011
The training schedule
So I always said that when September hit I'd start to train properly for the marathon.
Well it's September. Oh good. Can't tell you how much I hate running! Probably about as much as Paula Radcliffe hates it when people ask her if she actually pees herself when running competitively to save time. For the record, I'll stop to pee if I need to. No worries there.
Anyway, I emailed the lovely running support team at the British Heart Foundation and said that I was wondering if the personal trainer that supports their runners would put me a plan together to help me train. There were a few questions on a form to fill in.
I, of course, lied.
According to the form, I'm of above average fitness, weigh half a stone less than I actually do and exercise twice a week on average. Excellent start.
Then a happy email from the mis-led trainer pops into my inbox. Several attachments included. One about stretching (haven't read that one yet- wish I had, will explain in a bit). One about general advice. And one with what doesn't appear to be a training plan but rather a schedule of torture.
Seriously, it's ridiculous. This week I am meant to be doing the following:
Monday: 30mins cross-training
Tuesday: 45 mins steady run (whatever "steady" is)
Wednesday: 40 mins body conditioning or pilates
Thursday: 45 mins steady undulating run (undulating? as in hills? I don't think so Pal)
Friday: Rest (thank goodness!)
Saturday: 45 mins recovery run and stretch session (how is a run "recovery"?)
Sunday: 75 mins long run, easy conversational pace (surely that's walking then?)
And that's week one!
Now I know that I've got a church meeting Monday night and choir to lead on Wednesday night so I thought I'd better get going this weekend.
Yesterday, I went for a swim. 40 lengths of 25m pool in sub 30 minutes. Great. Easy peasy. No running involved.
Tonight, I've been for a 6km run. It took me 43 minutes. I was determined to at least jog all the way rather than my usual stop-start technique of run a bit and walk a bit. I achieved that! No walking for me. Nope. None at all. Some fairly slow jogging in there, especially up Aspley Lane which seems a lot steeper incline when attempting to run rather than when I drive it. But some quite quick running (down-hill of course) and no walking at all. Did I already mention that? No walking!
All good. However, the no walking rule appears to have taken over now I've stopped running. The laptop needed the power cable as battery getting low. I got up to walk to the other side of the lounge.
Ouch. Ow. Oooch. Eeek. OUCH.
Why have my calfs (or calves- never sure which is plural cow and which is plural lower legs. Bad considering I'm a doc) seized up already?! They really hurt. And I've got an all day theatre list tomorrow so that'll be a right laugh.
So today's lesson for a non-runner running a marathon is stretch. I'll be reading that stretch sheet then Thanks BHF!
Next time......more about BHF.
Well it's September. Oh good. Can't tell you how much I hate running! Probably about as much as Paula Radcliffe hates it when people ask her if she actually pees herself when running competitively to save time. For the record, I'll stop to pee if I need to. No worries there.
Anyway, I emailed the lovely running support team at the British Heart Foundation and said that I was wondering if the personal trainer that supports their runners would put me a plan together to help me train. There were a few questions on a form to fill in.
I, of course, lied.
According to the form, I'm of above average fitness, weigh half a stone less than I actually do and exercise twice a week on average. Excellent start.
Then a happy email from the mis-led trainer pops into my inbox. Several attachments included. One about stretching (haven't read that one yet- wish I had, will explain in a bit). One about general advice. And one with what doesn't appear to be a training plan but rather a schedule of torture.
Seriously, it's ridiculous. This week I am meant to be doing the following:
Monday: 30mins cross-training
Tuesday: 45 mins steady run (whatever "steady" is)
Wednesday: 40 mins body conditioning or pilates
Thursday: 45 mins steady undulating run (undulating? as in hills? I don't think so Pal)
Friday: Rest (thank goodness!)
Saturday: 45 mins recovery run and stretch session (how is a run "recovery"?)
Sunday: 75 mins long run, easy conversational pace (surely that's walking then?)
And that's week one!
Now I know that I've got a church meeting Monday night and choir to lead on Wednesday night so I thought I'd better get going this weekend.
Yesterday, I went for a swim. 40 lengths of 25m pool in sub 30 minutes. Great. Easy peasy. No running involved.
Tonight, I've been for a 6km run. It took me 43 minutes. I was determined to at least jog all the way rather than my usual stop-start technique of run a bit and walk a bit. I achieved that! No walking for me. Nope. None at all. Some fairly slow jogging in there, especially up Aspley Lane which seems a lot steeper incline when attempting to run rather than when I drive it. But some quite quick running (down-hill of course) and no walking at all. Did I already mention that? No walking!
All good. However, the no walking rule appears to have taken over now I've stopped running. The laptop needed the power cable as battery getting low. I got up to walk to the other side of the lounge.
Ouch. Ow. Oooch. Eeek. OUCH.
Why have my calfs (or calves- never sure which is plural cow and which is plural lower legs. Bad considering I'm a doc) seized up already?! They really hurt. And I've got an all day theatre list tomorrow so that'll be a right laugh.
So today's lesson for a non-runner running a marathon is stretch. I'll be reading that stretch sheet then Thanks BHF!
Next time......more about BHF.
The starting line
This is the very first blog I've written and I'm hoping this blog will chronicle the ridiculous few months I have ahead of me.
Why?
Briefly:
Our best man and my husband's best ever friend died suddenly on February 25th this year. He was 38. Essentially, he died of a heart attack. At 38. And Mark was a fit, football crazy, golf mad, sport loving man who even worked for a sports organisation. We've been devastated by losing him.
It's wrong that young people die of heart disease. It's wrong that middle aged people die of heart disease. It's wrong that we don't understand enough about congenital heart conditions and premature onset of cardiovascular disease and so much more.
So......
I'm running the London Marathon in 2012 for British Heart Foundation in memory of the very wonderful Mark Versey.
You might think "Well that's lovely Lizzy, but what's the big deal? Loads of people run the London Marathon every year. 37, 000 of them to be precise."
Well, I can't run.
I mean it. At school I always ran the 100m (shortest distance possible) and if possible got out of sports day with some music commitment excuse. I tried to play goal shooter at netball (less running). I hung about on the wing at hockey and looked sheepish. At the gym I avoid the scary treadmills and favour aerobics or Zumba or ballet fit (when I actually drag my rather chunky bottom off the settee). Last year I watched my husband run the marathon and was so inspired I thought I'd give jogging a try. I found I was generally more successful at walking. I've even forced myself on a "Learn to run" course.
So this will be the blog of how a non-runner learns to run a marathon. Not because I enjoy running (I hate it) but because it seems appropriate that I do something that's a real challenge to celebrate the life of Mr Mark Versey and to raise vitally important funds for research into heart disease.
Next time..... the training plan.
Why?
Briefly:
Our best man and my husband's best ever friend died suddenly on February 25th this year. He was 38. Essentially, he died of a heart attack. At 38. And Mark was a fit, football crazy, golf mad, sport loving man who even worked for a sports organisation. We've been devastated by losing him.
It's wrong that young people die of heart disease. It's wrong that middle aged people die of heart disease. It's wrong that we don't understand enough about congenital heart conditions and premature onset of cardiovascular disease and so much more.
So......
I'm running the London Marathon in 2012 for British Heart Foundation in memory of the very wonderful Mark Versey.
You might think "Well that's lovely Lizzy, but what's the big deal? Loads of people run the London Marathon every year. 37, 000 of them to be precise."
Well, I can't run.
I mean it. At school I always ran the 100m (shortest distance possible) and if possible got out of sports day with some music commitment excuse. I tried to play goal shooter at netball (less running). I hung about on the wing at hockey and looked sheepish. At the gym I avoid the scary treadmills and favour aerobics or Zumba or ballet fit (when I actually drag my rather chunky bottom off the settee). Last year I watched my husband run the marathon and was so inspired I thought I'd give jogging a try. I found I was generally more successful at walking. I've even forced myself on a "Learn to run" course.
So this will be the blog of how a non-runner learns to run a marathon. Not because I enjoy running (I hate it) but because it seems appropriate that I do something that's a real challenge to celebrate the life of Mr Mark Versey and to raise vitally important funds for research into heart disease.
Next time..... the training plan.
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