Monday, 14 August 2017

I need to fall in love again.

Have you been reading my blog for a while?  It is probably quite obvious that I like running.  I've planned my holidays around races and some would say that I am quite obsessed with running.  I've made so many friends through running and have been evangelical in extolling the virtues of running in general and parkrun in particular.

But, in the last couple of weeks I haven't been feeling the love.  My trip to Tanzania was something that I had looked forward to and planned towards for almost two years.  While far from being a holiday it was an epic adventure.  I'm left feeling a little bit flat now.  I am well used to the 'post marathon blues' that tend to hit on the Wednesday after a weekend marathon, this is similar but on a somewhat larger scale!

The post marathon blues can be cured by an extra slice of cake or glass of wine (or possibly both!) an internet connection and a quick browse of the races available.  15 minutes with a credit card means that the next race is booked and there is something to aim for... which is just as well given that cake and wine have been consumed!  The post expedition blues call for something more exciting.  Given that no one else in my family thinks that camping and walking up mountains is remotely enjoyable - Husbando is not known as the 'five star canary' without good cause - I will have to wait for the next chance to jump on an aeroplane with a group of teenagers!

Normally, when I feel glum, I put on my trainers and head out for a run.  Now running when we were in Africa was not really an option.  I had a couple of runs along the beach - about half a mile out and back because that is where I was stopped by security.  Out and back running, even on the edge of the Indian Ocean at sunrise, is dull!  It just wasn't safe to run in most of the places we stayed.  So, despite walking miles and gaining much altitude, I did virtually no running.  I didn't really run for four and a half weeks!

On the 'plane on the way home I commented to SW that I was really looking forward to running again.  The day after we got back I pulled on my running shorts and headed on out and up the hill outside our house.  Oh my word, what was going on?  I could barely make it a quarter of a mile before having to stop.  I persevered - completing a very slow 3 mile run with lots of stopping and swearing.  I began to dread going out for a run.  What was going on?

It has taken me over two weeks to realise that expecting to take a month's break from running and then to expect to be able to run as fast as I had before was unrealistic.  I ran a chatty parkrun with a friend on Saturday, she had a marathon the next day, so was happy to bimble around with me.  33 minutes for a 5k is never going to set the world on fire, but it was the first time I had run 5k without stopping since June!

Sunday saw me up in London as Husbando had a book fair.  We leave home just after 5am which means that, once he's unloaded the car, I'm free to go for a run.  The weather was beautiful.  I set off with no real goal in mind other than enjoying myself.   I would run when I wanted to, stop if I felt like it, walk if I need to.  At one point I was running along the Embankment while a Polish walk racing athlete (I think he was one of the Blocki brothers) was training.  No prizes for guessing who was moving faster!

But, something was different.  Despite the fact that I was running slower than a race walker (!) - it took me an hour and a quarter to run about 7.5 miles - I was enjoying it.  The aches and pains (dodgy piriformis) were not hugely in evidence.  I wasn't really thinking about the fact that I was 'running' (one of the benefits of London being so flat), I was just enjoying being out in my home town in the sunshine, without the place being crammed with tourists.

So, I need to take it easy and ease back into running.  I haven't got any races planned until The Royal Parks Half in October.  I ran that race in 1hr 43mins a couple of years ago.  I doubt I will ever beat that time, even if I trained for it.  As is is, I'll try to remember that running is fun and concentrate on that rather than on pace and times.

And while I run I will plot my next big adventure...  

Sunday, 6 August 2017

Looking back...

Before, after and during our recent trip we heard comments about our 'holiday.'  The trip was many things, but it was not a holiday.  In my former career I got to travel widely and always sought to ring every possible ounce of excitement out of each trip - whether that trip be to South America or Cardiff -  I love travel and adore the chance to try something new.  Four and a half weeks in Tanzania was harder work than any other trip I have ever done.  Being 'on duty' 24/7 is exhausting.  If you are a parent, think back to those early days when you had a baby that didn't sleep through the night.  It was a bit like that - I never felt that I could sleep deeply and the unbroken nights were as rare as rocking horse poo.  And while I probably, on occasion, ignored my own child crying there is no way I could ignore one of my students.

Behaviour, in the main was excellent - but I still have a couple of 'tricky emails' to send to parents.  I'd not looking forward to that.  Most of the boys grew and developed over the 4.5 weeks, but decision making was still painfully slow.  The whole point of the expedition was that they boys take responsibility as much as possible, but this meant that it could take most of a day to organise a hotel, transport and places to eat.

Hmm, places to eat... teenagers don't tend to be the most adventurous souls when it comes to food.  Our food budget was meagre - purposely so in order, in theory, to encourage the students to try local food rather than more expensive western food.  I love food, I would quite happily eat street food at lunch time to allow space in the budget so that we could eat somewhere more exotic in the evening.  The boys were interested in food they could recognise, burgers, fried chicken, pizza... So that whole lovely holiday vibe of lingering over a good meal was not part of our trip.  We were much more likely to be dealing with a vomiting student.  NB One student who has necked 2 bottles of Fanta and a plate of chips in record time can empty a restaurant in record time by vomiting copiously at the table!

All this could drive one to drink... except that this is not an option on a school trip.  School rules state that at all times there must be two members of staff who have not drunk in the last 24 hrs - we had three members of staff, and the organisation running out expedition had a blanket 'no alcohol' policy.  So no relaxing evenings, sitting on the beech with a beer.  No chilled glass of wine with a meal.  I'm not an alcoholic but... Part of me wonders if an opportunity to model 'adults enjoying an alcoholic drink in a responsible manner' was missed.

So no, it wasn't a holiday.  It was hard, hard work.  Amazingly rewarding at times, incredibly frustrating at others, I experienced some of the (literal and metaphorical) highest of highs but also the lowest, bleakest and most lonely times too.  The days when I could not get in touch with home - but wanted to talk to Husbando or my children more than anything else.  The late nights when we stood in the pitch black in a remote bit of field (because it was the only place we could get a phone signal) spending hours on a conference call to discuss our concerns about certain boys and situations.  

Would I go back?  In a heartbeat.  I'd do this type of trip regularly if given half the chance.  The benefit to the boys is immense.  I've had emails from parents saying how much their son has changed, for the better, because of the experience.  I'd love to be able to run this type of trip with children from disadvantaged backgrounds - I have a hunch that they would benefit even more than our relatively privileged pupils.

I was amazed at how much of a circus Kilimanjaro was - I hadn't expected it to be quite so busy, which is naive of me I know. Hopefully my next long expedition with school will be to somewhere equally as exciting but very different.  Outside school, I've got a few ideas about mountains I'd like to climb, which is just as well as my running mojo seems to have deserted me at the moment.

It won't be with SW, which is a shame.  I am still struggling to come to terms with him sacrificing his summit attempt so that I could summit.  It was always going to be a very hard decision - I wanted him to summit as much as I wanted to summit myself, but going down, and choosing to go down rather than tossing a coin, must have been so hard.  I know that the day after he went down was one of the lowest days of the entire trip for me - I can't imagine how tough it must have been for him.  Maybe he realises that, at my great age, time is running out for me to get back to Tanzania!  I'll  miss him next term - work won't be quite the same without him there, but I know that he will be hugely successful and popular in his new school and wish him all the best.