Everything has gone SOUTH!

I have had getting on for 4 months of inactivity on the sporting front.

I have a valid excuse,  I have recently undergone a serious surgery on my hip. As a result of injury,  I had the femur head reshaped and the cartilage trimmed. (I know…gross!!)  The recovery process was interrupted by an excruciating bursitis on the hip which required a steroid injection.  In the midst of all this was the season of indulgence and vegetating in front of the television also known as the Christmas holidays.

I have been doing my physio (more or less) with a view to getting back to full fitness, I even tried the suggested exercise bike with mixed success (it doesn’t go fast enough for my tastes!!) But apparently, I have had a rougher recovery than most , according to the surgeon said.  His original prediction that I would be back on my bike in 3 weeks was way off.  When I’d told the physiotherapist this time-scale, he had laughed.)

At long last however, it was time to get back out there and tonight was the night.  This evening for the first time since the beginning of October I located the lycra at the back of the cupboard, dug it out and wriggled into it.

Oh my goodness - 4 months off and everything has gone SOUTH!!!

The HORROR!!

Why, oh why, did I not cover all the mirrors in the house and get dressed in the dark?

Jelly thighs, jelly tum and jelly bum in lycra does not a pretty picture make. It seems that as a women of a certain age, if I neglect, or am prevented from exercising for any length of time it has an adverse effect on my body.  The whole thing looked like a sad, old, jowly, frowny face, wobbly, sagging, bloated and miserable.  Oh dear, oh dear….what was I to do?   I certainly couldn’t back out having announced my intention to return to the Adventure Racing Monday night group, on Facebook.  “Come on woman are you an adventure racer or a mouse!!”  I chivvied myself

 It was dark outside so nobody would see my shame and if I left it much longer the damage may become permanent…. What if everything decided it liked where it was and wouldn’t relocate back to where it should be on my body!

Having undergone the trauma of imprisoning the wobbly bits in less-than- flattering lycra,  I wanged on a fleece and a raincoat.  I think I was in such shock at the pasty white wobbliness that I sort of lost track of everything for a bit. …  What else would I need….?... Oh yes that’s right,  trainers.  I hauled them out from underneath a heap of winter boots.  Good grief!  they were like something out of Miss Haversham house...cobwebbed over with ages of not being used and in a sorry state of neglect and misery. 

“Don’t worry my preciousnesses,  we will go out into the cold and wet….”  I reassured them, shoving my feet into them.  The joy of never undoing your laces – they were perfectly ready to go.

I unhooked my  head torch from under my onesie behind my bedroom door where it has hung lost and lonely for so long.  I slipped it onto my head.  It felt so alien…. Finally, I was ready. 

I trotted downstairs and out of the house where only a tiny group of stalwarts were waiting to brave the damp and the drizzle.  We split into 2 groups.  I went with Will, my son and erstwhile team mate from the Beast of Ballyhoura race last year.  He is going back to university this week so it was nice to go out with him.

I set my endomondo sports tracker to… wait for it…...’hike’ (well I had to start somewhere and running was out of the question at this stage.)  I pressed start and with no ceremony,  we were off plodding down the road towards the woods.  The great return to the world of adventure racing would be restricted to a sedate off-road walk. 

Two minutes in and I discovered I was glad I had a buff in my pocket, my ears were freezing.  I slipped my torch off, hung it over my shoulder and pulled my buff over my head.  Ears warming up, I repositioned my torch and switch it on. “Once more unto the breach dear friends...”  I was going into that final frontier the woods at night.  At least the torch was starting to feel more like it used to.

Wow, it was muddy and slippery.  I was struggling with my hip and to stabilise my core so was a bit wobbly on my pins. I looked like a 14 year old girl trying out high heels for the first time.  At least I was trying.  I think it was more of a stroll for Will as we certainly weren’t doing the cracking walking pace we had achieved last summer but I was back even if it was at slightly faster than snail’s pace.

It was then that I noticed the smell.  “Can you smell that,” I asked.

“What?”

“That miff smell.  Is that your coat?” I accused.

“No… I think it’s yours.” Will suggested.

It seems that three months in the back of the cupboard hadn’t done anything to improve my running  jacket’s aroma.  Great! so now I was wobbling like a jelly, tottering about like a drunk teenager and stinky. Fabulous!  That’s ok, at least it’s dark and the woods are pretty much empty.  There was silence for a bit as I negotiated the uneven ground. 

Finally, I piped up, “Did you bring water?”

“Err no.  I didn’t really think we’d need it for a short walk.”

“No, but I’m thirsty.”  I seem to have forgotten all the fundamentals of training during my time off.  I tried swallowing my spit and carried on striding alongside Will.  My confidence was growing on the flatter, if squelchy ground.

Wow, I was even working up a sweat.  Amazing!  A proper work out sweat, I hadn’t had one for months.  I could feel my face glowing and my heart rate was slightly faster than sitting in front of the television speed.  All good.  We had a nice chat and I carried on going.  I was feeling quite chipper, I definitely didn’t like the down hill slippery bits but I was ok.  I even got excited about passing the badger sets as we wandered along.  They had cleaned out their bedding.  Maybe I should follow their example and air out my coat…..nah!

It was when we got back to road that I began to feel a little discomfort in my hip.  Nothing I couldn’t handle but an awareness and a sense of relief that I was only 300m from home...

 So it seems that for now I have to be satisfied with 3 km at an average pace of 11.28 mins/km which is quite a lot slower than I am used to.  Mind you it is only the beginning and on the plus side, I am a reformed athlete…..  As soon as I got back I was stretching out just the way the physio taught me full of smug self-satisfaction and a hope in my heart that soon I would be kissing the wobbly bits goodbye and things would head back north on my body where they ought to be.

On that day the lycra will once again be flattering and not a thing of shame and torture….I am truly looking forward to that.