Memories...of the Lyke Wake!

Guess where I stayed this weekend...

 

...half a mile from the end of the Lyke Wake Race! Obviously I miss the race, and am gutted not to be doing it again with the fabulous CAR team this year, and so I went back on little pilgrimage to Lyke Wake times. Also, there are many great races in this lovely part of the country, and I was going to do another one with my parents this weekend, called the Falcon Flyer, which is a 20 mile route, starting just down the road in Ravenscar.

Bad times - gutted to clock my first Did Not Start on a race sheet this weekend! After the stomach bug and not eating properly for a few days just didn't feel strong enough to get round. But hey, worse things happen at sea. My parents were on top form though, and kitted up and set off for the start. It was great to go down to the start and see them off.

Off they went!

Alone at the start and feeling a bit lost, I went for a slow 5 miler along the cliffs, which was beautiful but incredibly windy, and my legs felt as energetic as if small sacks of potatoes had been tied to both ankles.

The last hill back to the cottage slap bang into a headwind pretty much finished me off for the day. I spent the rest of it indulging in the restorative powers of tea, biscuits, and napping in the sun in an armchair looking at the beautiful view. 

My parents sauntered home looking fresh as daisies in the speedy time of 6 hours and 28 minutes. Job well done!

We watched the athletics, which on the one hand inspired me to want to get back out training and be that good (or, let's be realistic, just the best I can be) but at the same time depressed me that the closest person there that I resemble was Krtek the giant fluffy mascot. And that's not even an actual person. Later on we watched the darts, and I felt a bit better that here was a sport that might better match my current level of energy. Until I clocked it involves mental arithmetic, precision, and keeping cool under nerves. I will stick to running.

Sunday I felt better and we went for a 7 mile walk up Roseberry Topping. I can see this in the distance from my bedroom in Middlesbrough, and every time I see it, I just want to go up it, so this was a great day!

View from the top:

 

Beautiful! Feeling drunk on nature and on top of the world looking out at the view. It was quite steep though, and so appetites were worked up. Fortunately, soon it was lunch time, a gourmet picnic al la Mum complete with coffee, two types of butty, and fruit pies. My actual favourite meal in the world might be a good picnic:

All too soon the walk was over, but, good news! An ice cream van awaited in the car park! This is good on two counts. 1. There is ice cream. 2. Spring must be here if the ice cream van is out. Hurrah hurrah hurrah!

Finished off the weekend watching more athletics (feeling less like Krtek all the time) and a giant roast dinner.

Today I ran 10km in the sunshine and for the first time all year was too hot. Things are looking up. 

The Lurgy

The last two weeks have been a complete disaster! The Monday after the 15 miler I ran in the last blog, when I thought my cold had got better, I woke up. The Lurgy had revisited in the night. I went to work, but came over really sick when I went to the wards and had to come home. My first sick day on my whole course! Gutted! Felt quite rubbish for the rest of the week. Tried an 8 mile run with my flat mate Louise on the Wednesday, but she was sick too, and we both ended up coming home early and feeling rubbish for rest of the evening.

But, by last weekend, I thought I had shaken off the darned thing again. Busy weekend visiting friends in London/ Newbury. 6am start to run 16 miles with Andrew from his house to Greenwich, Backheath Common (where the London Marathon starts) and back. Felt on fire (metaphorically - physically of course, it being England and February, it was freezing). Brilliant run, no problems. Then had great weekend in Newbury with the lovely Childs family zipping on zip wires, walking though snowdrops and eating fabulous food. 

 

I thought everything was better. The last three weeks I must just have been getting used to the new placement, and working up an immunity to Middlesbrough, and now I would be strong like an ox for the rest of my time here. 

Then, Monday night I was sleeping. Something woke me at about midnight. It took me a while to realize what it was. Sickness. I never feel sick, literally, never. So I was unsure what to do. I lay still. Perhaps if I don't move, it will think I'm not here, and leave me alone. Nope. Oh no. Wow. OK, you don't need details. Two more days off from placement lying around feeling sick and useless. Thursday I thought I was better so went in, but felt sick again when I got there, so had another useless day, getting further and further behind. It felt like it was never going to go. I just wanted to leave, quit everything, it was a waste of time and I was going to fail it all anyway, because I couldn't manage to be well enough for enough days to actually go in and get it all done.

Fortunately, having not eaten much for a few days, I didn't have the actual energy to get out of bed and do anything to follow that through.

Then on Friday as soon as I woke up I knew it had gone. Hurrah! Up yours, sickness, ha!

There's not a lot to be said, but I will say one thing for being ill. You realize once you're better, how pretty damn good you feel most of the time, without even realizing it. And that you are SO lucky to feel so good, that most of the time you don't even notice. Health is something I take forgranted most of the time, but I shouldn't. Feeling bad for just a little while makes you realize how different things would be if you weren't lucky enough to wake up every day and be able to carry on, not restricted by your body, and do the things you want to.