What's in a Foot?

It’s the final countdown to the Half Marathon and my feet have decided to throw their dummies out of their pram and act like the true primadonas I have always suspected them to be.

One week ago I took my little princess feet off to see the Podiatrist and was sentenced to a lifetime of no running. Not much difference to my pre Royal Parks life, right? Well the difference now is that I have spent the past 6 months training and quite frankly I am not ready to just give up. Having dragged my little legs out in the rain and sun I am quite determined not to maintain what little momentum I have gathered. So I faced the news with a healthy dose of stoicism and have decided to treat my feet to the royal pampering they deserve.

After running to Bond Street last Tuesday night I went home, smothered my feet in ibuprofen gel and wrapped them in ice. Pleasant, right?

I managed to get a physio appointment for Friday and in the mean time I dutifully wore my trainers combined with my hideously large orthotics at any given time. Walking home, check. Making dinner, check. Doing the washing, check. Friday I chose to run a short 5k at lunch time which, I admit, was more painful than I had anticipated and off I went to physio. The sentencing was similar to the one the Podiatrist dished out. I am not to be an acclaimed marathon runner. Sadly my career as a sprinter has been cruelly ripped from my hands. No more is the possibility of taking over from Sally Gunnell. Instead I have an elastic red stretchy bit of material that I am to use to strengthen my ankles and I am not afraid to use it.

So my Friday night was spent in my trainers, of course, as was my Saturday. Saturday night I was careful to rest my little tootsies in preparation for the Finsbury Park 15km race I was to run on Sunday. Before I knew it, the time was upon me. It was time to put my crazy orthotics and newly strengthened ankles to the test. I enlisted my die hard crazy cousin to run alongside me and he gallantly joined having not slept a wink. 

Sunday morning was quite honestly, horrific weather. To test out the tootsies I braved the elements and ran the full 15km in the hideous downpours. It was like Monsoon season without the heat. With each lap of Finsbury Park my sweat was washed away with more rain. But we did it. Coming in a cool 5^th from last place, we passed the finish line with only a medium ache in my plodders.

Worry not, as soon as I was home and showered, there I was with ibuprofen gel rubbed in, ice packs on and feet raised. I was giving them the real attention they deserved.

Tuesday morning ahead of fasting tonight, I was up at 5.45 to run before work and this morning post fast there I was hitting the streets once more for the prescribed short run. With only 9 days to go, I can say with full confidence and not in slightest bit dramatic way, I cannot wait for this Half Marathon to be over.

Fact of the Blog: There is a lot of research going on into finding out whether it is possible to screen particular groups of people who are at high risk of developing lung cancer. People at high risk of lung cancer include people who smoke and people who have lung disease, such as chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. It is always more cost effective to screen people at high risk, rather than to screen everyone. 

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/AmyWoolf
http://cancerhelp.cancerresearchuk.org/type/lung-cancer/

The F Word

It was only a matter of time before it happened. The signs were there, I was almost a fool not to foresee it. For after a long summer of training my little left foot has finally decided it has had its fill of running.

No amount of training will bring it back from the deepest darkest depths of despair, all I can do is hope and pray. Well, that and consult a doctor.

I suppose it all started with my flat feet. It is no secret (particularly now that I have blogged about it) that this body really ain’t made for marathons. Quite the contrary, I am much more suited to the low impact sports like swimming, dancing and walking towards the fridge. Perhaps I should have been more cautious during the past month and not happily sauntered about town in little ballet pumps. Maybe I could have taken more care to only wear trainers and yes, I ought to have been more conscientious when buying orthotics and not just bought off the rack. But who could predict my feet would finally just throw in the towel?

Upon our return from Geneva I may have noticed a little extra bite in my bounce when taking to the streets. It is fair to say that I have found my feet a little more swollen, but surely this was par for the course in becoming Linford Christie the Second? I am sad to tell you, this is not the case.

After a few interesting runs last week, jogging around Hertfordshire, I took a little break. We had a lovely wedding in Kent and then I needed to welcome in the High Holidays. It was only after once again bumbling about in little pumps that I truly noticed just how swollen my little tootsies are. It was then I really felt the pain in my feet when I was walking...sitting...standing.

The good news, I have been mildly saved by the wonderful Justin at First Podiatry. The bad news, if I manage to make it to the 13^th mile, this will probably be my last ever half marathon. I know, I know, cut down in my prime I hear you say. Starved of the prospect of entering into further running tests. Stolen from the land of marathons.  It turns out my tendons are giving up and my feet require a lot of TLC.

Despite the warning signs I have told the Podiatrist that the show really must go on. This Cinderella will in fact make it to the Royal Parks Ball, by hook or by crook I will finish that last mile. Even if I am limping through. My orthotics have been “doctored” I have purchased some ibuprofen gel and I am reacquainting myself with an ice pack. That, combined with physio and pilates – to increase my core strength – should get me through.

I tested out the new orthotics last night when my running buddy and I ran to Bond Street from Canary Wharf and I have to say my feet were very thankful for the extra support.  I may have given myself two rather substantial blisters but my spirits are up! This race is happening and I am going to purchase some geeky running socks and yes, I am going to finish the race.

Fact of the blog: A UK trial called the Lung-SEARCH study is looking at using spiral CT scans combined with a new test called fluorescence bronchoscopy to find lung cancer at a very early stage in people with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD). COPD means lung disease such as chronic bronchitis and emphysema. People with COPD have a higher risk of lung cancer than people in the general population.

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/AmyWoolf
http://cancerhelp.cancerresearchuk.org/type/lung-cancer/

The Lonely Lycra Life

It is not often that I am shocked by Londoners. We come in all shapes and sizes and can be seen doing a number of strange and not so strange activities at any time of the day or night. Typically none of this phases me. Up until recently I was convinced that London was the most unfriendly of European cities which, being slightly anti-social at times, has never phased me.  Not ones for a stop and chat the most interaction a native Londoner may have with a stranger is when we are asked for the time.

One time we do show signs of a break down in our cool calm exterior is when we exercise. Runners hailing from all sides of the city, from the Concrete Jungle professional types of Canary Wharf to the Square Milers and even the cool artsy Soho Media Types, may wear a perma-scoul when walking through the tubes or pushing past tourists, but come Running Time there is an odd sense of Camaraderie. Many a time I have been huffing and puffing my way round the Wharf only to be passed by a sprightly sprinter who gives me a knowing nod. Whenever I am running red faced around Regents Park I know that when I am overtaken by another jolly jogger they will be sure to crack a smile back at me. Even cyclists tip their helmet or offer a wave. It is just part and parcel of the sporty clientele in London.

So imagine my surprise when I sampled the Geneva running route this weekend (just a little self plug as I am super smug that I ran whilst on my City Break!) only to find that London is not in fact, the rudest city of them all. Husband and I jetted off to Geneva for the weekend for a wedding and whilst I was there I decided to keep up with my training regime and sample the UNESCO suggested running route by Lake Geneva. It was absolutely stunning. The weather was gorgeous and the setting couldn’t have been more perfect for a serene morning run to clear my head. The route took me through the park, along the lake and up to the Botanical Gardens. Gorgeous. The only problem was the hard faced fellow runners I encountered. At first I beamed proudly at the chap I saw running towards me. It was oddly disconcerting to find my award winning smile was met with such a frown. The next random runner I saw I tried a more professional nod. When this still didn’t work I must admit I resorted to pulling out all the stops and hitting them with my best London glare and ignoring everyone. I would love to say that I managed to shock someone into smiling, or even to tempt someone to nod. But alas, I didn’t even get a little eyebrow raise.

So there it is, the lonely life in lycra. Who would have thought that the happy watch wearing, fondue eating, chocolate making Swiss would ever be so cold? If I can implore anyone who reads this to just spare a thought for this Lone Woolf running when you can. Give us a nod, go on.

Fact of the blog: As soon as you stop smoking, your risk of lung cancer starts to go down

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/fundraiser-web/fundraiser/showFundraiserProfilePage.action?userUrl=AmyWoolf
http://cancerhelp.cancerresearchuk.org/type/lung-cancer/

That Paralympics Spirit

I may have missed out on the Olympic vibe but something I am not missing out on is the Paralympics. The excitement I felt for Team GB has only deepened with the arrival of the Paralympics. So imagine my surprise and delight when my wonderful friend presented the hubby and I with tickets to the Paralympics Opening Ceremony! Not only did I get to finally see the Olympic Park, I was really part of the magic.

Unprepared as we were for the event (the call came in last Wednesday at 11am, a few hours before kickoff) I am unashamed to say that not only did I pop out at lunch for a Supermarket Sweep-esque attempt at buying warm clothes, we also had to buy matching Team GB jumpers. It would have been rude not to.

So there we were, the Woolfs on tour: sporting Team GB jumpers, eating mascot shaped chocolate bars and sipping over priced official Paralympics water. It literally couldn’t be better than that - until the show started. The event was, simply put, spectacular. The entertainment was vibrant, the fireworks dazzling and most of all the athletes and performers were truly awe inspiring. What better impetus did I need to motivate my lazy body than watching the pages of the 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights being marched across the stadium? What could possible ebb me on more than watching Royal Marine Joe Townsend carry the Paralympics torch into the Stadium on a zip wire? As it turns out, each event that has taken place since then and will take place over the next few days.  

I am constantly amazed and delighted by the determination and spirit of the athletes – swimmers, cyclists and blade runners just to name a few. Ludwig Guttmann’s idea of using sport in the recovery of paralysed individuals has enabled disabled athletes worldwide to become the sporting heroes they truly are.

If ever I needed a kick up the bottom here it is. Who am I to complain about going the distance now? So it is with great pleasure that I can admit to my challenge of the week. I have decided to (OK, mildly bullied into) trying to shave 10 minutes off my 10k time.  At the moment I have set myself a time of 1h 7 minutes. My lovely cousin and running pal has deemed this a little slow (in my defence I refer back to my aforementioned chicken legs) and as such this week we will be running 10k in under an hour.  Wish me luck!

Fact of the Blog: Less than 10% of people diagnosed with lung cancer survive the disease for at least five years after diagnosis.
As ever, any donation is very welcome...

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/AmyWoolf

http://cancerhelp.cancerresearchuk.org/type/lung-cancer/