Back in London, not long after I got out of hospital (probably not long enough, if I’m honest) I was feeling restless and frustrated from lack of exercise, and I decided to try out a new yoga class.
Spoiler alert – I shouldn’t have gone. And I should have known that from the off, when I called to ask what the class was like and the teacher described it as a workout. I tried to explain what I wanted from the class – relaxation, stretching, seeing if any of my yoga muscles still worked – and he told me to come on down, try the class and see.
I was still pretty weak at the time, and I didn’t know what I would still be able to do and what I wouldn’t. I didn’t necessarily know this yet, but what I really didn’t want was to be pushed.
I’ve been a bit slow at getting around to writing this, but only because there has been a lot going on and I have a lot to say. So much so, in fact, that I decided I can’t say it all at once. So, for now I’m just going to update you on my C25K programme progress.
The weekend after I was given the all clear to start running again I re-started the C25K challenge from the beginning again, with run one of week one. The first week (which I planned on doing twice) consists of three workouts, each involving walking for a five-minute warm-up, then alternating 60 seconds of running with 90 seconds of walking, for 20 minutes. After that, there’s another five-minute cool-down walk.
I said in my last post that I haven’t yet found myself on dialysis in a foreign hospital. What I didn’t say was that there was a very brief moment where I thought I might.
Since the fateful half marathon over a year ago, I have not done a whole lot of exercise. When I have, it’s been walking. Safe to say, therefore, my arm muscles are not what they used to be. If I’m being honest, they were never much to begin with.
When, in New Zealand, I decided to spend a whole day sea kayaking around Abel Tasman National Park, I probably should have realised that it was going to be hard. But I didn’t.
Make the most of your health. Live while you’re young. Make hay when the sun shines. They’re such clichés, and I may have just quoted One Direction, but it’s true that you never really know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone. Or, in my case, almost gone.
My now-husband and I were planning our epic round-the-world honeymoon long before I got ill. But if there’s one thing that’s sure to get you fired up to travel, it’s the idea that you might not be able to.
One of the many things no one ever tells you about spending time in hospital is just how much interest everyone takes in your bodily functions.
I don’t know if the levels of scrutiny are the same for all patients (although I imagine so), but drawing on my own experiences, hospital staff really care a lot – like, a lot a lot – about whatever’s coming out of you.
Running a half marathon nearly killed me, and that’s only a little bit of hyperbole.
A year ago today I attempted the Hackney Half Marathon and, to cut a long story short, found myself first with heatstroke and then with rhabdomyolosis, or rhabdo.
Caused by muscle exhaustion and heat (in my case anyway), rhabdo leads to a breakdown in muscle tissue and causes the release of a protein, myoglobin, into the blood. This kind of toxin would usually be flushed out by the kidneys, but myoglobin cells are too big for that, and lead to the kidneys becoming clogged up and ultimately – to put it politely – broken.