Looking Forward

Thought I'd do a wee update since I'm sitting doing nothing, having a quiet few days.  On Friday morning at the Queen Margaret hospital I had the feeding tube removed.  I've been looking forward to this for weeks,  having the tube was necessary but still a pain.  Having an open wound with a plastic tube hanging out my tummy has hindered my movement from the day it was put in (March 7th) stretching and bending have been restricted and I don't mean any super duper yoga stuff, just reaching a kitchen cupboard or picking up something from the floor, and I'm not going to mention coughing or sneezing!  I don't know if being  bit more active these last few weeks has irritated it but it's been very tender lately.  I'm told the wound will heal quickly but I've to be careful for a few days, I'm looking forward to being able to move freely, it is another step in my recovery.

My energy level is increasing and I've been running,  it has felt very hard though, my legs feel very heavy and don't have any strength.  I have a lot of faith in muscle memory but my quads have a touch of  Alzheimer's, and with some gentle encouragement they will soon remember what they're supposed to do.  I hope they get the hang of it soon I've got a 48 hour race at the British Ultra Fest  in four weeks!

I had a great six mile walk on Friday 12th, it was the fourth anniversary of Dario leaving us, so there was only one place to go, the Angels Playground on the West Highland Way, and on impulse just before I left home I grabbed a Goblet,  wrapped it in three Buffs and a long sleeved top and placed it in my backpack, I never go by Dario's post without my hipflask  but I thought on this day I wanted to make  a special gesture. I wore running shoes in case I felt like a wee scamper, it was a roasting hot day and I loved it, I was a bit over dressed in long tights but I had good reason for wearing them,  the bracken would be thick and tall and it's tick season.  I did stick in a few wee jogs but the feeding tube jarred every step so I practiced my "walk with purpose" technique, I think I'll be doing more walking than running at the 48 hour so it was worth doing.

My recovery is a lot slower than I'd hoped, my mouth is still very sensitive and tender and the food I'm managing is still soft.  I have lost a little more weight but it's not too much.  My Macmillan nurse did stress to me on Friday that I'm still burning extra calories recovering and repairing and doesn't want me to lose any more, especially as I'm getting more active, me neither really, I don't mind burning fat but I don't want to burn muscle so I've promised her I'll add drinking a pint and a half of full fat milk every day to keep my weight stable.  A couple of weeks ago I had a strange feeling in my stomach, it took a bit of time for it to dawn on me what it was.  Hunger.  My appetite has returned, which is great but also a bit frustrating, I see and smell food I want to eat but can't manage, fruit is still very nippy, anything with texture is abrasive,  but I'm enjoying trying different things even though it irritates my mouth.  I've had an appointment at the clinic in the Western and they are happy with my progress.  I also found out why it takes a long time to recover, the radiation stays in my body for around twelve weeks and it's effects hang around until it's gone.  But every week I'm feeling a gradual  improvement and that's me seven weeks post treatment so I'm over the worst of it.

Looking forward to August, it's going to be a busy month, on the 3rd is the Devil O' the Highland, this year Pauline and I are not supporting anyone but we'll be oot  n' aboot, probably up the Devil's Staircase to shout abuse.  Then my next race, the Graham Clark Memorial Race at Knockhill on the 6th, the club has organised this race in memory of Graham, since 2004, I have always helped  but this year I have decided to run it for the first time, and in memory of Catherine Wilson, a very inspirational friend and Carnegie Harrier, she fought her cancer for eleven years, never giving in, and lived her life to the full right to the end, she ran London Marathon last year.  Our last run together was a girly group 10 miler in February.  All the proceeds from this years race is going to Ovacome so if you fancy a birl round Knockhill you can enter here, mind it's Shanks Pony and no fast cars!

Next is a fun weekend in the Black Isle for Runrig's Party On The Moor, I'll try not to jump about too much since I'll have the 48 hour race five days later! My plan for the 48 hour is to run the first half hour and the last half hour, I'll pace the other 47 hours according to how I feel.  At the beginning of June I set myself a big goal of 200km optimistically thinking my recovery would be faster, I'm still holding onto that goal although it is probably beyond me just now and I'm not going to damage myself trying to reach it.  I've been running consistently for nearly three weeks now, around three times a week of a distance of three and a half miles, and I increased it to five miles on Thursday knowing I'd be having a quiet weekend.  My running has been quite slow, but that's how I run in an ultra! The way I'm looking at it is it will feel like I'll be starting the race as if I've already done around fifteen hours, because that's when the pain and tiredness usually plateaus out and I've certainly honed my management skills in the pain and tiredness departments lately, so run, walk, stroll and a few rests I'll just do what I can, it will be a learning experience and set a bench mark for the next time.  I'm also hoping running with the remnants of radiotherapy still in my system won't get me banned, I don't think it's on the prohibited list as I doubt it's performance enhancing!

In September I'm looking forward to the Glenmore 24, Pauline and I are supporting Vicky O'Reilly and Fiona Macdonald. I'm also looking forward to  running a very special and exclusive event with the entry limited to one!  The Glenmore 6 (why does that sound like a band of outlaws?) Bill and Mike have generously offered me my own wee fun run, I'll start at 6.00pm and finish with the 12 hour race. I'm targeting marathon distance, whether I reach that goal or not doesn't really matter, supporting and having a run at Glenmore is like having my cake and eating it. (Vicky, Fiona don't worry when I swan off for a toddle, Pauline is an expert at support, I trained her myself, that was my job before I ever ran any big daft stuff!)

Next week I'm looking forward to going back to work, (yeah, I know that sounds mad) I'm only going in for one wee shift and see how I feel,  I'm sure I'll be fine.  Work has been so supportive, "Take as long as you need."

I have many goals to aim for and look forward to, from eating Stornoway Black Pudding in a roll at the Real Food Cafe to smashing the Leisure Centre's doors off and picking up my tenth Goblet.  

I have the patience of a puppy waiting for the garden gate to be opened but  I'll just have to try and be sensible (bloody hell, I've just used the S word!) and go with the flow and not push too hard, apart from running the 48 hour race that is, but I'm a Fifer and I've paid the entry fee.

Groupies on tour

The last time I just watched the race was in 1997, it was Pauline's first time and Mum, Tim, Erin, (a teeny toddler at the time,  she's just had her High School Prom and looked stunning - proud Mum moment) and I went up to Fort William to see her finish.  I supported Pauline in 1998, she then had 1999 and 2000 off, since then I have supported Pauline three times and ran nine times. I didn't want to commit to supporting or marshaling this year in case I wasn't up to it but there was no way I could miss it even though it didn't feel right not having a proper role for the race. Adrian did make me feel a bit better saying it was ok to have a year off.  So the plan was for Val and Gillian, (they have both supported us over many years) Pauline and myself to go to Milngavie for the start and follow the race up to Fort William.

When I was told I was to have chemo and radiotherapy I knew I wouldn't be running this year, it took a good few weeks to get my head round that fact and even longer until I could face withdrawing.  Ian had said he wouldn't issue number two but I had a plan. Dave Waterman has given me immense support through my surgery and treatment topping it off with a fighting mantra to get me through. Hands Up, Chin Down.  I asked Dave if he would wear my number for me and it made my day when he said yes. Wearing number two has a few traditions, since 2007 I have always changed into the same blue fleece and Saltire Buff scarf for going up the Devil's Staircase, that might be pushing tradition a bit far so I let Dave wear his own clothes but there is another tradition that had to be observed.  I gave Dave my racing hip flask (it's just a wee dinky one) filled with Glengoyne to share with Dario.

On the Friday morning while everyone else put the final ticks in their long lists of preparation I was at the clinic, I have lost a little weight, but they were impressed that I managed the half marathon and I'm doing remarkably well even though  I'm a bit impatient that my mouth is still very sore and I'm only managing to eat soft food but I was told that most patients don't eat at all until around seven weeks after the radiotherapy has finished, I was only three weeks and the radiotherapy is still working on me and I'm burning around 400 extra  calories a day because of it, that will by why I've lost weight then!

We got to Milngavie for the back of midnight since Gillian had ran the Black Rock race earlier in the evening  and needed a wee bit of time to get ready, I was able to give my best wishes to a few but not everyone I was looking for.  I felt ok being there knowing the there was no way I could have run,  but emotion did get me at the end of Ian's briefing when he read out the words of encouragement I'd written on the race facebook page.  Right, get a grip woman!  

Val was assisting with the start, Pauline, Gillian and I wandered up the High Street and stood on a bench ready to cheer everyone on in their adventure.

Then Milngavie resembled the old classic Le Mans race start, support rushed to their vehicles and zoomed off into the night.  We set off at a more leisurely pace after handing over Ken and Sue's gazebo to Neal and Caroline, they were using it at Lundavra.  We got to the Beech Tree in plenty time to see folks coming through, it was hard to recognise everyone with their glaring head torches until they were up close, and looking down the path in the dark and rain, the stream of torches looked like a motorway during rush hour on a winter's evening. 

We went on to Balmaha and had a couple of hours dozing in the car before opening our eyes and realising we'd missed the leaders going through.  It was quite an eye-opener just observing the support crews with varying degrees of efficiency, from Formula One style to a guy doing a lot of faffing, putting stuff in his backpack, changing his mind, taking it out, picking something else putting his backpack on then taking it off and changing his mind again with his support just looking on! Then there was the jaw dropping incompetent.  One poor soul was hopping from one bare foot to the other changing his socks and shoes standing on the cold wet tarmac as his three supporters just stood, arms folded and watched him, I hope they managed to do more for him as the race progressed!  Or am I just a Diva?  This is how I do a shoe change.

Rowardennan 2012

We went on to Tyndrum, leaving Rowardennan, Beinglas and Auchtertyre for the real support and went into The Real Food Cafe for breakfast, Pauline, Val and Gillian tucked into delicious rolls filled with Stornoway Black Pudding and bacon, the Cafe were kind enough to provide hot water for my pot of instant porridge "Yummy!" I said sarcastically, and make a note to come back when my mouth wasn't so painful.  

We walked down the road and along past the By The Way to watch the runners, Paul cruised past with the quiet stealth of a Ninja! I didn't even have time to get my camera out my pocket!  Murdo was there and offered us a jelly baby each before he left to plant his Saltire on his hill with a huge supply of jelly babies.  We walked down the track and waited... and waited... it was around 37 minutes before Marco and Richie went past.

We strolled on to stand at Brodie's store for quite a long time, it was great to see the majority of runners coming through in great spirits, I felt frustrated for those having to wait to cross the busy road but I'm in awe of Lorna just putting her hand up, stopping the traffic  and crossing with no delay. 

We were watching the time, there were loads of runners I wanted to see through but if we were calling in on the Lord and Lady of the Bridge aka Tim and Muriel and their lovely assistant, Jane at Bridge of Orchy and then get up to Fort William in time for the finish we'd better move up the road, I'm sorry I missed you, blame Paul Giblin, it's his fault! I was spoiled by Tim, he had promised me ice-cream but with the weather being cold and wet I didn't fancy it so I got to sit in the campervan with a mug of coffee and a heater blasting my legs.  I wasn't freezing but I've been feeling the cold lately, not sure if it's down to my inactivity, my treatment or my tiredness but I always need loads of layers.

We stopped briefly in Glencoe, Rabbit the Bruce, an experienced and well seasoned supporter pointed out the route and scenery to Rampers, a newbie, then we were off into Fort William. 

Look over there Rampers, that's where the runners go.

We didn't have long to wait until Paul arrived knocking a huge lump off the record finishing in 15 hours and 7 minutes.  The emotion of his achievement was contagious and a privilege to witness. WOW! was the inadequate word on everyone's lips.  

Remembering when Jez Bragg smashed the record Dario put on the race website  a "Where were you when Jez finished?"  graph showing where us mortals were on the route.   Thinking about where I would be in 15 hours, even in my PB year I still would've been trundling along somewhere between Tyndrum and Bridge of Orchy when Paul finished!  WOW!

It was good to watch the fast guys finish and see that they are human after all when they stopped, a fair few were a bit staggery, and needed a seat or a wee lie down on the comfy concrete.  

By the time I usually see them they've had their tea, gone to the pub, gone to bed, had a lie in, had their breakfast and look well rested and the only evidence that  they've ran is they still do the keeky breeks walk!  

We stayed at the finish for quite a while, Aunty Val brought me a chair and kept making me sit down but every time somebody finished I'd jump up and cheer them in. We left the Leisure Centre and went for something to eat with Ken and Sue, they had been supporting Richie for the second half, I managed some chicken broth after mashing the lumps into submission with a fork.  After eating we went back to the finish.  What a pleasure it was to witness the tears of joy, relief it's over and the realisation of an achievement  that has been the focus for months and years, these emotions probably took a bit of time to sink in but they were plain to see.  

Just before 10.00pm Val said it was time for us to head off to our hotel and it would be nice to make last orders, we were staying about 10 miles outside of Fort William, it didn't take long to get there, check in, dump our bags and go into the bar, every head turned, the young lad playing the banjo in the corner stopped!  (Just kidding about the banjo player, but  it was check out the tourists!) We got our drinks and took them into the residents lounge with the tartan carpet, big deep leather chairs and the ambience of a light-bulb with yellow and orange bits of floaty fabric flickering around it in the fireplace!  But it was inside, warm, dry and comfy, we didn't sit for too long, we were tired and headed for bed.  I felt guilty pulling the cosy duvet over my head with thoughts that most of the family were still out there and hauling in a second night, I wished them well before falling asleep. 

In the morning, Val checked her clever phone to see who finished through the night and who was still running,  Dave had gone through Kinlochleven so we got ourselves back along to the finish where we spoke to Darrel.  Dave had pulled out after climbing out of Kinlochleven,  and then had to turn back, I was devastated for him,  he had major problems which is his race tale to tell if he wants to, but he pushed on further than he should have.  Mr Waterman, you did me proud.

The prize giving was another traditional affair, not enough seats!  This family's getting bigger every year and no less special, it's just harder to get round everyone! Every finisher received their goblet to heartfelt congratulations, the family circle was complete with Paul, the first finisher presenting Peter, the last finisher with his Goblet. 

Photo stolen from Davie Hall

There was a special presentation to Tony, John and Alyson for completing ten races, next year there are four of us that WILL* reach this achievement.  

Photo stolen from Davie Hall

It doesn't matter that I didn't do it this year, this race has taught me a lot over the years,  especially how to cope when things get tough and don't go the way you'd like.  Life is a bit like running the West Highland Way, it's not just about how well you do when all goes according to plan but more importantly how well you adapt and get on with it when the challenge is the toughest you've ever had to deal with.  Head up and do your best, whether you reach your goal or not, as long as you've given your all, never be disappointed.

* I originally used the word may, but I stand corrected, Keith Hughes you're right, no doubt, we WILL do it!  

Landing the knockout.

We headed up to Skye on Friday, Pauline did all the driving and what a gorgeous day, brilliant blue skies all the way and that was the forecast for the whole weekend. 

We picked up our numbers and met up with the Sheffield crew, lovely to see them, we only see them at the Skye Half and they didn't manage up last year, also Joss and Irma, a Dutch couple that just happened to be in the pub after the race over ten years ago, Joss has now ran the race around four times although he'd never ran before or any other race for that matter.

Saturday morning for the first time in over a week I managed to eat real food, a small bowl of porridge, I hoped this is the turning point and my mouth and throat was starting to heal.  Although it was going to be a warm and sunny day I decided to wear my 2XU compression tights as worn by top class athletes and eejits that have done naff all running since March 6th and plan to run a half marathon on memory and would like their legs to stay in motion and in the upright position!   With it being sunny I better wear my big hat too, I have to keep my radiation burnt skin out of the sun, also a Buff scarf, I tucked it under the cord of my hat to stop it rubbing the tender skin under my chin. Not normal running gear I know but if it protected me I didn't care what I looked like.  Also for luck I pinned my number on with my little humming bird brooch and my  boxing gloves.  I did originally attached the boxing gloves to my bumbag, I planned to carry ginger beer and my syringe if I couldn't manage to swallow, but my bumbag wasn't comfy, it pushed  the feeding tube into my tummy so Pauline said she would carry it for me.

I wasn't nervous before the start I just wanted to get going, I had no doubt I'd finish, I've never DNF'd and I never will, it would just take a long time. We were walked to the start by the Pipe Band and then we were off.  My legs were running!  It felt fine, nothing wobbled due to the compression tights but they had no energy or bounce that you would normally feel at the start of a race but that was ok, I went straight into ultra shuffle and energy conservation, as soon as we rounded the corner and started up the hill we walked. West Highland Way race rules, walk the hills, run the flats and downs.   It was great to be running, the pace was irrelevant, I was running!

My mouth felt not too bad, I manage to drink at the water stations and have small sips of my flat ginger beer,  I was so glad it didn't nip. After half way,  my energy level was the same as if I'd been running for around twenty hours, luckily I've had a fair bit of practice at that, just relax and keep moving forward as best as I can.  At least it was just my muscles that felt that tired, my guts were fine, and so was my head, they usually start to get a bit dozy when you've been running for around a day! 

We had a lovely surprise at the turn just after seven miles, we heard someone shouting to us,  they were too faraway to recognise but it sounded like Jackie Baxter, (also from Dunfermline) it was Jackie! What was she doing here? I received hug and a brilliant boost, she was here with Martin, he was meant to run but was injured, they still came up for the weekend.  

                                     

The next couple of miles are not what you'd call a hill but it gradually goes up, not steep enough to walk but too hard for me to keep running, so Pauline started to time thirty seconds run, thirty seconds walk until the start of the hill proper, I was still managing to swallow my ginger beer even though it was small mouthfuls.  At the top of the hill, we ran all the way down, Stevie Hards came back to meet us, I did have to have a few wee walks heading into Portree, once back into the town I kept it running, there was nothing left in my legs, I panicked for a second when I had to step up a kerb, I nearly didn't make it, if I'd fallen would I be able to get back up? Hang on, and keep moving forward was my only thought, there's a wee hill up to the finish, will I manage to keep running? 

I did!  2hrs 55mis 57secs.  I bent forward with my hands on my knees, I felt ok, but I didn't want to take a funny turn and my big hat kept my emotion under wraps until I could gather my face into a smile.  

                                                                        The bastard was decked!  

The Skye Half has one of the best race mementos ever,  a specially engraved shot glass and a miniature of Talisker.  I'll keep mine for later and savour it when my mouth is better.  

                                                   (this was last year, we drank it at the coral beach)

A slow walk back to our B&B, Pauline had her shower first, I had a wee lie down.  We just had a quiet afternoon but managed out to the Tongadale in the evening, the walk would do me good, also had some medicinal Guinness, except it nipped my mouth, but I had a syringe and I wasn't afraid to use it!  The company was good and we were the last out the pub!  Same time next year folks!

On Sunday every muscle was sore, my shoulders, my arms, and my legs were as stiff as if I'd ran a big ultra but I was happy.  It might have just been thirteen miles but on my road to recovery it was over a hundred!  I still have clinics and stuff but that is it, I am getting back to being me.

The daft thing is on  Sunday I felt as if my mouth was going to heal quickly, it wasn't too sore and I was looking forward to getting back to eating  but by Monday night it was quite sore again, I think my body's own endorphins had worn off.  Gonna have to get me some more of them, they work better than prescription painkillers!  

I will be sensible for a wee bit, gather my strength slowly, my next race isn't until August, the 48 hour at the British Ultra Fest.  Pick your chin up off the floor!  It will be my 48 hours to do as much or as little as I like, no pressure for any distance. Run a bit, walk a bit, sit down for a bit. I'll even do a Knoxy (a technical term for having a seven hour kip during a race!) 

I'm not kidding anyone here am I?  Ok, I have a goal, and I have adjusted  it from when I entered the race at the end of last year and it takes into account my lack of training and assault on my health, and there will be no pressure... 200km.  Just 100km a day, that's do-able right? 

Going for the knockout!

The past couple of weeks have been the hardest, and I thought I wouldn't be going to Skye with my mouth being so sore and with struggling to eat. I asked Pauline would she still go if she could get someone to go with her. (Oh, before you get into this post I think  I better warn you if sweary words offend you, there are a few here, I'm not pulling my punches with this one.)

I started to feel a bit weary, this was the closest I came to letting my head go down.  I then thought Fuck it! I can have a sore mouth, stay at home and be miserable or I can have a sore mouth, be tired but happy in Skye, it doesn't matter if I can eat or not, I'll work round it.

Pauline was pleased when I said I was trying to get my head round going to Skye and I even surprised Pauline by saying I still would like to do the Half Marathon, it is very important to me, it was the first race I ran seven weeks after I had the brain haemorrhage in 2005 and again I think it's fitting the Skye Half is my first race to show I'm on the road to recovery.  Ok, a few more weeks to get over the treatment might have been better but I've never gone for the sensible option.

 I did have a lovely morning walk on Monday, the first day in six weeks without having to go to the Western for treatment.   It was arranged ages ago for Pauline and I to meet Clare Balding at Balmaha and have a wee walk out and back talking about our West Highland Way races for her radio programme Ramblings on Radio 4, but if I wasn't able to go she was happy just to do it with Pauline, I was glad I went and managed to say a few words, I was disappointed when she said it was time to turn back, I was hoping to get further, but it was lovely to stroll along the WHW for the first time is ages. I think we only walked for about four miles but probably just as well that's as far as we went, I got home around mid afternoon, I was very tired and slept until about 8.00pm!

 I've been doing a lot of sleeping, trying to gather my strength for the trip to Skye, my body is not in  good shape,  I'm not eating at all just now, my mouth is too sore and raw but I still have the feeding tube in my tummy and I've been using that for the past few days, I've got a supply of the bags of drip feed they gave me after the surgery, I never thought I'd use it but needs must, it has around 1300 calories and supplemented with prescription milkshakes and full fat milk I'm making sure I'm getting over 2000 calories a day, and these things are all fortified with protein, vitamins and minerals.  I'm not hanging it up and using the pump though, too much palaver, I'm just skooshing it in with a syringe, even that's not correct procedure, you're just meant to remove the plunger, pour the gloop in and let gravity do the job, but a bit of common sense, (I do have a little) I don't force it in with the velocity of a power hose!

The Half isn't going to be pretty or very fast, my last run was on 16th March, I'll be walking more than I'll be running but I'm an ultra runner, I know how to do tired. I'll still be pinning my number to my club vest, it will still be the best I can on the day and I'll always be proud of my best effort whatever the time on the watch even if everyone else has gone home by the time I finish... but finish I will!

Cancer and it's life changing surgery followed by six weeks of harsh and painful radio and chemotherapy  has left my body tired and sore but it never got close to my heart and soul and that is what will get me round my race.  Cancer you can fuck right off, this is the last time you will dictate to me.

Final round, I'll land the knockout blow when I cross the finish line.

Hands up, chin down.

Getting there

Pauline dropped me off early morning on Wednesday 15^th for my overnight stay in the Western, I did warn her that she might get a text to pick me up if my blood count was down and they would postpone my chemo but all was fine, I even got a "Well done!", there's been a lot of folk having to delay their treatment but I was full steam ahead. 

No different from last time, loads of fluids first, loads of peeing, and just get on with it.  I was in a room with just one other lady, Carol, she's was quite down when she came in, last time she had chemo she went home with pneumonia and ended up with a hospital stay in her local hospital in Dumfries but after speaking to the Doctor she did perk up, we hit it off and had quite a laugh, even listening to the hospital radio, the nurse laughed at us sitting in bed with our earphones in dancing to "There's a moose loose aboot this hoose!"  It was patient request evening and going by the music selection I think must have been the youngest inmate but they did play Clash of the Ash for me, so all was fine. 

I didn't sleep much, with the fluid bags getting changed through the night and having to get up to go to the loo but I wasn't worried I could catch up with sleep when I got home.  When I left Carol said one of the nicest things, besides the lovely to meet you, we've had a laugh. Her parting words were "I hope I never see you again!"  I replied the same. 

I planned a very quiet weekend, going to the Fling after my last chemo wiped me out for a bit but it was worth it, this time I think my reserves would be a bit lower so I wanted to conserve my strength.  It didn't quite go that way, my cousin contacted me to say my Uncle had had a stroke, Pauline and I went through to Kirkcaldy's Victoria to see him on Friday night, we went along to his house on Saturday afternoon to tidy up, it looked as if there had been a fight, furniture and stuff all over the place, he'd fallen in the kitchen but got himself to the living room where the phone was.  He is my Mother's brother and my Uncle so he does have the fighting genes too.  His speech is ok but his arm isn't, if you have some spare prayers and vibes could you please send them to Brian, you don't know him but you may have seen his face, I think I look like him at the end of 24 hour races.

I felt a bit guilty leaving Pauline to it on Sunday but I was tired and needed to rest, she's already done her fair share of hospital running around and visiting.  On Monday I planned to drive myself over the Western for my radiotherapy but in the morning every time I stood up I went light headed, I was a bit better after my breakfast but I didn't want to drive through, a quick text to Pauline and she'd pick me up no problem.  It was a slow day with delays and we were late back but I rested when I got home.

Tuesday I felt ok , no dizziness so I text Pauline to say I'd be fine to go myself, there are road works on Queensferry Road and it was very slow going, noticed the car temperature going up and up.  Bugger! I pulled over, stuck my hazards on, phone the hospital, they said not to worry, they'll treat me when I get there.  Phoned for a nice RAC man and waited and waited, lucky for me I don't do stress-bunny.   I eventually got to the Western and my treatment, only two hours later!  The nice RAC man said that the fan has seized and I'd get home ok as long as I didn't have to sit in traffic. 

All these things were starting to take its toll and by Wednesday my mouth had gotten very sore and I’m now taking painkillers and another mouthwash which has an anesthetic in it before I eat, I’m not eating too well, in the morning it’s taking me around an hour to get in two Weetabix and a banana, I’m heating the milk too to make it nice and soft after that I’m just having milkshakes, soup, yogurt and ice cream, it’s just too sore to attempt anything else, even a cup of tea is a chore and sore to swallow but I’m still managing to maintain my weight at the minute.  My skin on my neck and face looks sun burnt from the radiotherapy,  it’s itchy and sore where my clothes touch, in the house I’m wearing wide necked t-shirts but outside I have to keep my skin out of the sun, lucky for me I've loads of Buff Scarves.  I thought I should change my name to Rosie Redbeard but Pauline thinks I look more like Bradley Wiggins

I am pleased that I got to half way through the fifth week before things got really tough, just five more radiotherapies to go then things will start to settle down.  They are saying it can take a couple of weeks after the treatment stops before this happens and I’m now thinking that if I’m still in as much pain on the weekend of the Skye Half there is no point going,  but I’m not ruling it out until nearer the time.  If I have to miss it Pauline and I will go another weekend and I’m sure we’ll have a good time and have a run in the Quiraing instead. 

I still have other goals and stuff to look forward to and friends have been very generous and given me goals and offers I’m not going refuse. My head is up and I’m looking ahead, I will get through this.

Hands up, chin down

Over half way.

Today was my sixteenth zap of radiotherapy, fourteen to go.  On Wednesday I have a sleepover in the Western for my second and last chemo.  I’ve been feeling ok, not doing anything really, resting and some gentle pottering about the house, well, nobody dusts my Goblets but me!  Actually, nobody else ever dusts in this house!  My Goblets do look a bit stoory, but they can keep. 

I've been sitting with purpose, now that Mel has a granddaughter, I've dug out my knitting patterns, one wee pink cardi done, a white lacy matinee jacket and matching bonnet done, now I working on a lilac cardi with daisies embroidered up the front, the last time I did these it was for Erin nearly eighteen years ago.

I have deliberately been taking it easy, reserving my strength for the last haul, also I don’t want my blood count to go down, if it does, my treatment will be postponed and I don’t want that. 

Over the last couple of weeks when the doctor looked in my mouth, she could see it looked a bit raw with a couple of ulcers, the radiation causes this, and asked how many painkillers I'm taking.  I answered none, she replied that I would be soon, and when I saw the dietician she said the same.  I still haven’t felt the need to take any but I will when I feel it’s necessary.  They don’t know me or that I have honed my discomfort management skills over nine WHW’s, five 24hour races, around thirty “wee” ultras and over thirty marathons.  Also it’s not the level of pain that matters but the way you think about it.  When running you can’t expect to reach the finish without some physical grief, it’s all part of the adventure.  In 2007 my first thought when I heard that Jane Tomlinson had passed away was “pain is a luxury for the living” and when completing the luxury of a big ultra, the more pain the more alive I have felt, it is a privilege.  The discomfort from my treatment is good, it is all part of the curing process. 

At the start I compared my treatment to running a big ultra and on Friday Pauline said “That’s you coming in Tyndrum.” I totally disagreed, running the WHW isn’t easy but it is loads more fun.   This is different and I'm using all the skills I've learnt through running, like eating when you don’t feel like it.  Eating is a chore and a lot of things now have an awful metallic taste, coffee is ok but tea is only ok if I put sugar in, something I would never normally do, everything has to be soft, but I'm making sure I'm getting all the nutrition I can, if I want my body to be strong it has to be fuelled even if it takes me an hour to eat a bowl of pasta! Soup is a favourite, although I’ve always made my own, I’m also buying cartons of fresh soup for variety, is it just me but when I make a pot of soup there’s usually enough to feed the street. I'm restricted with fruit, it nips a bit, the last time I had a glass of  fresh orange juice it felt and tasted like a mouthful of barbed wire. I was told I would lose weight and it is part of the challenge to prove them wrong.

My treatment should finish on the 31^st May and I have a goal for soon after, I entered the Skye half marathon months ago and it’s on the 8^th of June, just a week after.   I might be cutting it fine but I don’t doubt my determination, I won’t be daft and if I'm not able to do it I won’t but if I can walk/jog it in around three hours or so I will.  I've been going up for it since 1993 and in 2005 it was very special, it took me around two and half hours that day, it was my 100^th half marathon and just seven weeks after I had the brain haemorrhage and hopefully this year will be just as special.

I will look after myself well for the next three weeks; Pete is doing a grand job too.  I want to get to the end in the best shape I can, I'm going for a knock-out in the final round.

Hands up, chin down.

A great day out.

I wasn't running the Fling any more but I didn’t want to miss it so after Gillian had picked up Pauline she got me at 4.00am and we were in Milngavie for 5.00am, I felt ok with not running knowing there was no way it was going to happen.  It was lovely to chat and be hugged, I wanted to wish folk well but with it being busy I didn’t get round everyone.  Pauline registered and got herself organised then it was time for the start.  This year everyone went off together in the biggest herd of ultra -runners I've seen!

Gillian and I waited and watched the start of the relay then headed off to Rowardennan, we were helping with the drop bags.  Mrs Mac was in charge and Alan and Robin had started laying out the bags, it wasn't too long before they were all laid out and more helpers arrived when runners were coming through thick and fast.

Now there is no right or wrong thing for eating in an ultra, it is very much go with what feels right for you but my jaw dropped with variety and quantity.  Fair enough, have a choice of a couple of things if  you're not sure what you might fancy but I thought some folk must have been feeding a legion! After runners had been through and finished with their bags we gathered together all unopened food and placed to the front if anyone fancied something different,  I wasn't really surprised that no fancied the pack with two giant scotch eggs, the large tub of pasta or a whole Soreen loaf!  At least The Wilderness Response Team took all the energy gels to be used later.  Rabbit the Bruce was in charge of Pauline’s drop bag, its contents, a wee Twix and a dinky can of coke.

It was great fun being there, shouting at folk and getting sweaty runner hugs, even modelling the Blizzard Jacket for the Wilderness Response Team (a brilliant bit of kit, and about the size of a couple of slices of bread when vacuum packed.)  

                                         Not sure if it was me or her drop bag Alyson was pleased to see

When there were only a handful of bags left Gillian and I went on Tyndrum for the finish.  I'm sorry I missed Robin, he had headed off to do a bit of support but before he left he gave Julie a wee present to pass on to me, a wee pair of pink boxing gloves, Lee fastened them to the zip on my jacket, they're still there and I think a perfect place to keep them. Thank you Robin. x  (I heard you had a great day too, kissing all the girls at Crainlarich!) 

We began helping Ellen hand out medals, what a view looking down that finishing straight.  Watching and encouraging everyone reach their goal, some looked very painful, some were sprinting, some were an infectious emotional achievement, other's I shouted at to stroll faster! 

Discussing my treatment with Ellen, I wasn't sure I should be hugging and kissing everyone with my immune system being a bit suppressed, but we're family and what a boost I got from all the "Glad to see you out and about!" and "You're looking well."  If I'm a tower of strength it's because you guys are the mortar between the bricks. 

Eventually I think Ellen took pity on Pauline and Gillian standing waiting for me, and I eventually listened when she said “Right you, you've done more than enough, time to go home."  I'd had a brilliant day, I felt ok and I didn't want it to end, so we said out goodbyes and was walking away when Ellen called us back, they were just going to do the prize giving and Pauline got 3rd old dear, Mel got 3rd not so old dear so a wee bonus before we headed home.

I planned a lazy Sunday and had a bit of a lie in but as the day wore on I got even more tired and kept falling asleep watching the telly, I was totally wiped out and on Monday and Tuesday, I asked Pauline to drive me to the Western both days, I felt fine to drive myself on Wednesday, but I still feel tired but it was worth it, thank you all for making my day.

That's nearly the second week of radiotherapy done, my mouth is getting sore and food is starting to taste funny but almost a third done. I do feel more tired than I thought I would at this stage of my treatment, but I’ll just go with the flow and not force anything, this is a six week ultra and one thing I'm good at is my pace judgement, it is going to get a lot tougher but I'm focussed on the finish.  Hands up, chin down.