Sunday, April 26, 2015

Migraines and Evil Knieval Rides Again...............

Yesterday was the pits!

I woke up with the alarm. Big Gazza had been to Dawn Service for ANZAC. Somewhere I lost a good 15 minutes in 'getting ready' time and when Gaz came home I was still sipping a coffee and eating my healthy homemade Granola, Greek yoghurt and yummy fresh raspberries. He grabbed my little bike, I grabbed a couple of Dextro shots ad my helmet and he drove me to meet the boys for our Saturday ride. I knew I would be in for a ribbing at being driven, but that was better than me riding at breakneck speed to still be late.

We headed off for a round the lake trip. I sat on the back the whole time listening to the boys give each other the usual hell that they subject each other to and me trying desperately to warm up. By about 15kms the legs finally started to turn over freely. It was pretty fresh out and I think that contributed, and I had done a run 2 days earlier so the legs were a bit tired. We got round ok and we went our old course as the road works had finally opened the road. Out on Calderwood Rd, which is a back road that has farms littered along it and receives very little love from council other than the occasional rough patch job to fill the gaping holes in the road. But with the heavy rains we have had over the past week, the potholes had been exposed and some were so bad you could easily break your neck if you landed in one. And I guess I almost did about 4 times. There were some pretty nervous and outta control bike handling skills as I dodged, weaved, jumped and willed myself over and through a serious of potholes, that when I was still upright and moving forward afterwards left me not only surprised but the adrenalin was raging and I felt a little sick at the thought of what might have happened. But before I even had chance to settle down again, we were dodging another hole that literally took up half the road. With a milk truck bearing down on us all I could do was hang on as I skimmed the rim of the chasm and screamed for Roberto to look out as he was behind me and I would have been blocking his view. I heard a deep whoaaaa and then a whew.

Finally home with only just over 50kms done, I lay on the floor recovering. I didn't feel too bad, just happy to stop. I had sat on the back the entire way because I was conserving energy for what was supposed to be an 80km bike ride today to Garrie. That's not going to happen!

Kez, far right, Jess 4 back same file
With a bite to eat including a weird concoction of a smoothie, we watched the ANZAC Sydney march on TV and finally spied Kez and Jess. So proud of our girls. Kez looks so smart in her uniform. I can't believe how wonderful she has grown up. A mum just couldn't ask for anything more.

After the march we headed to Bunnings and then started work in the garden. I just couldn't operate. My head was banging, my eyes were stinging. I finally told Gazza I was having a snooze and shortly after was punching out Zzzzzz's. I woke up and the world had gone grey again with Gazza racing to mow lawns before the rain. The rest of the day was spent sitting on the lounge with a massive headache and a stiff neck.

Wearing her medals & her Great Grandads medals
I think the neck was from  the ride. Turtle neck, even though I didn't spend much time at all in the tri-bars. And the headache???? Perhaps from the exercise, maybe lack of water, maybe the neck, maybe lack of sugar. I'm not sure, but 4 Panadols to shift it is not the norm.

This morning is grey and wet and I decided to run the wrath of Coach rather than ride 80kms on my own uphills in the rain and be miserable. Gazza said he would ride wingman with me next Saturday and we will head to Garrie. I need to get this done! Maybe Monday is the go. The weather looks like the best it will be all week. Take a half day off work.
 
 
So proud of our girls

Friday, April 24, 2015

I Can See Clearly Now the Brain Fog Has Gone……….

It has been an interesting few days. Most exciting (after the headache finally lifted) was the new sense of determination I have found. Armed with a Blog from Damon Gameau, producer and human guinea pig for “That Sugar Film” and a little shock therapy from what I read, I started doing even more research. (Which is how I am wired. My mum brought us kids up to question everything and back it with fact. A woman of science and a researcher, with a Science Degree under her belt. I’m certainly not unhappy about that). Thanks Moom. But timely, was the discovery that “That Sugar Film” www.thatsugarfilm.com was playing in a small understated, never cleaned, thin walled cinema about 1hour drive South of where we live. So in the bucketing down rain (storm of the decade) Big Gazza and I made the pilgrimage to see the film. Having already read Damon’s blog, I was keen to hear the scientists that he had interviewed and their stories, while Gazza was in for an interesting ride having not had a chance to read the blog. I think he still should, as it has a lot of detail. We weren’t disappointed. It was a ‘fun’ but confronting venture into the effects sugar has on the body.

If I wasn’t convinced, I certainly am now. But more interestingly is that I came away from the film realising how we are all lab rats in a huge false spinning wheel all the while being fed giant chunks of Bullshit disguised as cheese….or rather in my case, and the rest of the world’s, as white crystallised sweetness.

A huge part of me has guilt over the amount of sugar I have consumed over the years. My poor body, my poor liver. And I push this little body, which is trying to do its best, and is ageing to-boot! And expect it to perform! And on triathlon days when I am exhausted and beating myself up for not having gone harder, I wonder why. I berate myself for not having woken up earlier, say 20 years ago. I forgive my youth for being ignorant and overindulging, but as an adult of say 30, I should have got my act together. Now facing 50 in just 5 months, I wonder what the next 42 years (based on my Grandma life expectancy scale) will be like. Will my liver say FUCK YOU BOWDEN and just curl up and refuse to play the game? Will my cholesterol levels go so high that my body decides to dump some nice chunks of hardened fat in my arteries and squeeze the living day lights outta me? I wouldn’t blame my body if it did quite honestly. But you know what? For all the mis-treatment this ol’ bod’ has been through, it still ticks along ok. I can run (ran 1 hour last night comfortably btw, no ITB issues and loads of energy) Maybe, just maybe, it’s not too late and I can be kind to myself and take action.

Last night, (after the run) again very timely, we went to hear Dr Sandra Cabot talk about ageing and issues that we need to be aware of. It is quite surreal to hear the words ‘over 50’ and the sickening feeling, when you look over your shoulder and there isn’t a little old white haired, wizened lady standing behind you, that you realise that hey, she is talking about us! Holly crap are we 50!!!!!! When did that happen? Both Damon and Sandra talked about blood tests. I think one of my first actions (beside dropping sugar out of my diet) is to get some blood work done. I have a list, liver function LDL, ALT, Triglycerides etc. But also as a side note is a test for Vitamin D deficiency
Segway here……

Through my lense, I see the world slightly different as far as the calendar is concerned. (I reference my dad here as my source of learning and understanding on how the world works. A nature science minded Dood, no bit of paper required) but, my year doesn’t start on January 1st. It starts on October 7th. My birthday. Spring. Awakening, a butterfly opening her wings. It’s warm, I feel energised and I feel like I have emerged from a deep sleep. Even my wardrobe changes and the dresses come creeping out from under the doona. My seasons are simply broken in half, Spring and Winter, day time/night time. Come April 7th I am ready for hibernation. And so, on Gary’s birthday, exactly 6 months later, Zippety says, it’s time for bed!  
Zippety, a TV character from my childhood
And soooo, back to the story….Dr Cabot recommended that people who feel lethargic and unmotivated during winter months should have their Vitamin D levels checked….ringing bells (or rather alarms) here, wouldn’t it be great to have a shot in the caboose of Vitamin D to get me through (and up and at ‘em) during winter instead of crawling under my flannelette sheets and dreaming of slow cookers and snuggles.

Back to Triathlon training.....This morning I was awake, I mean wide awake at 2:53am. I tossed around for a while and Gazza woke up at about 4:20am. I was still staring at the ceiling. We got up and Gaz went to the gym while I fluffed around until 5:30 and time to get ready for a swim session. When I arrived pool side I looked at the slash of blue as the sun was rising and against the blue was a plume of rising steam. The pool was cranking and a comfortable girl heat. So happy.

Tonight Big Gazza is working back late and I am on cooking duty. Wish me luck, no sugarrrrrrrr! Zucchini spirals with bacon, blistered tomatoes, homemade pesto. Photo to come.
 
Flashback Sugar Memory….
I remember the X buying, at least weekly, a 6” cake box packed to the brim with cream filled soft profiteroles. The chocolate topping, the mock cream, the choux pastry. I can still taste their lushness. Confession.....I never stopped at one, I just couldn’t. Between us we would shovel them down. I knew at the time I was over doing it. But I couldn’t stop. I had no will power and neither did he. Honestly, I didn’t want him to stop buying the sweet mouthfuls of false happiness and he didn’t stop. Shamefully, one particular time has stuck rigidly in my mind, when we devoured a full box and then he went back and bought another box. I reckon in that space in time, I have devoured about 8 Croquembouches alone. It’s a horror story of addiction and loss of control, people!

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Someone Slap the Crazy Woman...........

“Howdy, Sooo, today's ride was pretty ordinary.” That was how my email started to Coach. After that is was a download of misery.
 


Up at 4.40am. I was awake though and drove through the dark feeling ok. I needed to shut my eyes for 5mins again, but that never happened. Bike ready, we gathered in the dark under the veranda. Hushed whispers so as not to offend the neighbours. No pre-ride talk this morning. Obviously Ava and Megz needed more sleep.

We headed out and I found myself in familiar territory with Lil Dog, Bec, Juannie & Deb. Physically I was fine, the legs were still feeling the heavy effects of the pump class a few days prior and so I struggled on the hills a bit and fitness wise I guess. To the sound of wheels on tarmac and the occasional call to avoid a hazard, the sun rose in a red ball and the girls paid homage to the Sun God instead of the Rain God who had plagued them for weeks.

I was dropped resoundly on the steep hills and the girls waited patiently for me to catch up. Finally the big one loomed ahead of me. The closer I got to Bald hill the more apprehensive I became. As we started the ascent I told Lil Dog not to wait for me if I didn’t make it. (A self fulfilling prophesy perhaps? More like setting myself up for a fail). The last few rides up this way had either seen me turn back early, or make it halfway and have a chat with Bob Scott before rolling home.

But the stand out of today was the fucking anxiety attack I had half way up Bald Hill. I am not exactly sure what was going on, but mentally, I really really fell apart.  I even scared myself when I couldn't find a strategy to get through it. Usually I can self talk some positive 'come on ol' girl fucking get up this hill" or “Imagine how good you will feel knowing its behind you.” blah blah blah. But nothing worked. It took all of my energy to make my legs keep turning beyond the halfway mark and a small flat drive to pull out on to. I counted 10 pedals standing, 10 pedals sitting past the ‘45’ km sign. One more bend! I was breathing heavy and fast and I soon recognised anxiety and hyperventilating. I mentally tuned in to my breathing and screamed to self for calm. Slowly I crept to the top. There was no fist pumping celebration at the top as I rolled in to the expectant faces of the rest of the girls, just complete and uttter exhaustion mixed with fear and a good dollop of relief.

It wasn't just bald hill, it was the entire ride. As I sat there at the top, not appreciating the view, I had to do use all my willpower to not turn back right there. Lil Dog said she would turn back as her knees were playing up. I had no such excuse and I knew I just had to keep going. We headed into the Park and I managed to distract myself (going down hill) but when we started climbing up just past the Waterfall turnoff....I turned making some lame excuse before my brain could stop me and then I was left limping back by myself, no phone. WTF! I stopped at the Waterfall turnoff and berrated myself for turning back. Honestly my legs were still sore from the strength work and I hit myself mentally again with “why did you stop going to the gym?” Easy now to say, but at the time the gym had been dropped as work was out of control. But there should always be time for training.

Limping home, riding solo was slow but it wasn't that bad, the pressure seemed to lift a bit and the trip back to the first clearing was pretty quick really. I waited for AOA and Jac at Bald Hill and then rode home with Jac which was fine and the closer to home I got the stronger I felt and happier. Funny that!

I don't know exactly what happened. I have been doing 80kms regularly enough. Doing some hard rides with the boys, plenty of hills. Just the thought of going into the Park did my head in big time and while I didn't get to the tears, that didn't mean I was totally Fucked emotionally. But if I admit honestly, I have not done the work I should have been doing and knowing this meant I knew already that I was undercooked fitness wise. It was always going to hurt and I knew it!

I know the last ride I did into the Park was the day I went to Bendeella with Al and the gang. Etched into my head as it hurt like hell. That was last winter I think. And each time I have ridden since, I have not made it to the top of the hill for one reason or another and I know I have been avoiding/dreading this for some time. But an Anxiety attack? as in can't breathe, jeesuz!

I know I need to beat the demon and all that. So I will be back next week and the week after that (repeat) until it doesn't hurt any more. I just didn't expect it and it scared the shit outta me like it did.  I think I will take Gazza as wingman next ride and just ride to Garrie together without anyone else. Maybe on a Sunday or something. That way I can have my melt downs in private. Someone Slap That Crazy Woman, she needs a resounding Makatush and a good dollop of honesty. You need to work harder Sammi.


Breakfast
Cals
Carbs
Fat
Prot
Sod
Sugar
57
2
5
3
31
2
10
2
0
0
0
1
97
27
4
6
6
0
Lunch
 
 
 
 
 
 
78
15
1
3
142
0
74
0
5
6
147
0
11
0
1
0
6
0
8
0
1
0
0
0
68
0
3
11
750
0
Dinner
 
 
 
 
 
 
45
1
0
11
80
0
36
7
1
2
30
2
7
2
0
0
59
1
3
0
0
0
360
0
0
1
0
0
0
1
Snacks
 
 
 
 
 
 
214
34
6
4
4
10
90
23
0
0
63
23
69
2
6
3
0
1
339
84
0
0
9
43
88
3
8
4
0
1
78
2
5
2
8
0
54
1
5
1
0
0
118
20
2
5
1
0
36
3
2
1
1
0
5
1
0
0
3
0
12
3
0
0
0
2
50
0
6
0
0
0
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Totals
1,647
233
61
62
2,007
87
 
Cals
Carbs
Fat
Prot
Sod
Sugar

With a 4hr ride I obviously need the Glucose. So the sugars are up a fair bit today. But arguably, I should have burnt them off. I sure was low and depleted and a Cranky Bear for the rest of the day as a result of the effort and mental strain.

Sugars in - 87 grams.... That equates to 87/4= 22 teaspoons of SUGAR. I am now off to explore other options for sports nutrition. Coconut water anyone?