Goals... and a bit of a run.

You might remember all the way back here in January, when I purchased a new pair of running shoes. It was an arduous experience. A rewarding experience too. Those shoes changed my life. Like Forrest Gump, I started running. I also set my first ever (I swear to God) athletic goal. I wanted to do the Kokoda Trail walk.

Quickly realizing this was not as easy as I initially thought, I set a few new 'lead up' goals. I wanted to do the Inca Trail (in Peru), and before that, the Bridge to Brisbane (a 10km run).

I recently completed the Bridge to Brisbane (and clearly I survived, as I am here today to tell the story). But it wasn't easy!

My training consisted of downloading a few apps on my phone and just trying to keep up with them. What I hadn't factored in to my training was how many times I would get sick before the Bridge to Brisbane, and how much work I took on, resulting in even less time for running. Not to mention my natural aversion to exercise, and general lack of motivation.

So for the last few months I have more or less (but mostly less) increased my inclination to put one foot in front of the other in the pursuit of fitness. Truth be told, I was actually enjoying myself. Before Bridge to Brisbane, I knew I would need to set smaller 'training' goals to ready my body. I decided I would need a healthy eating plan, exercise and some rest as well. By September 1, I had nailed the 'rest' part of my training. The rest had fallen by the wayside. In actual fact, before the race, I had only managed to complete a full 10km run on two occasions. And one of those times I felt like death afterwards. I was feeling a bit out of my depth.

I headed to Brisbane the day before the big run. Having never been a morning person, I wasn't sure how the 4.30am start would affect me.

The night before the B2B I slept in as much of what I wanted to wear as possible. I couldn't take any chances. By 5am I was up and ready. My sister arrived (we were all taxi-pooling) and we realized we were dressed the same.

#awkward.

My mother and sister are both B2B old hands. I couldn't get over the sheer size of the crowd. We were probably about half way into the crowd. I couldn't even see the 'start' line.

I was there (in the yellow joggers) with my sister, mother, cousin and a friend.

And then the race started. And then we started about 20 minutes after that! It was a crazy beginning. I wanted to jog up the bridge, but my own lack of fitness almost did me in. The run back down the bridge was no easier. My general lack of fitness got the better of me. My run quickly progressed to a jog/walk, but nonetheless, 75 minutes later I was finished! (Also almost dead, red as a beetroot, and physically exhausted). I was so proud of myself.

Someone asked me (after the race) if I would come back again and try to beat my time, but I really don't think I will. I set a goal, and I achieved it. I have new goals now. And I want to achieve them too.

So look out Inca Trail! You're next on my goals list...

Girls trip anyone?

New Shoes, New Life

My sister is getting married in 5 weeks.

 Back in January she got me to try on a bridesmaid dress she had bought me, as I couldn't make it to the big smoke to try it on myself. The dress barely fit, and I resembled an animal being strangled by a boa constrictor with it on.

"How many kilos do you think you would need to lose to fit it?" She asked me.
"Ahhh, about 10. Plus two ribs..." This dress would never have fit me. I was devastated. She was devastated. We started the crazy process of trying to locate another dress in the correct size, but just in case, I decided I need to do something about my weight.

To be honest, I'm pretty happy with the way I look. I have issues. Who doesn't? But as I get older I don't seem to mind my imperfections as much. I'd like to be fitter, but I don't mind my weight so much. Because I was in the city, I decided I would be needing a new pair of shoes.

The last pair of running shoes I bought were at least 13 years old. I had purchased them to take through Europe with me before CP and I had married. They were falling apart at the heel and had sat, largely unused at the back of my wardrobe for the good part of 10 years.

This is them x RIP little ones.

I headed in to The Athlete's Foot (which has come a long way in 13 years I might add), and set about the process of getting a new pair of shoes.

"Hi! I'm Rick! How can I help you today?"  An over excited assistant buzzed towards me wielding some high tech computer thingy in his hand.

"Hi Rick. I'm Jess. I need a new pair of running shoes. It's been about 13 years since I bought my last pair." My dirty secret was out now.

"That's fine Jess." And so the embarrassing process began. "What sort of shoes are you after?"

"Ummm. Exercising ones?"

"Will you use them for running, walking, sport?" Poor Rick. He didn't see me coming.

"What are my options? General wear? I'm hoping I will run and walk in them, but I won't know that until I get them, will I? I'm hoping I'll feel like exercising with a new pair of shoes. I don't know." Was that a raised eye brow and cocky sideways smile Rick?

"OK Jess. I'll put you down for general wear. How many days a week do you think you'll be wearing them?"

Realising that all of this was going into his hand held device, I thought I should try harder with my answers. "I don't know. What are my options? I'd like to say 3 days a week, but maybe it will be none? Just put down 3. That sounds good. Look Rick, I do relief teaching, so there is a chance I'll just wear them on days I take PE classes." Another sideways smile from Rick. "You know. For the LOOK."

"OK, so I'll put down 3 days of casual wear."

"Any pre-existing foot conditions, Jess?"

"Yes. Fallen arches and also one foot is bigger than the other. I know Rick. I'm a bit of a freak. Try not to look at my toes. I have an ET toe."

"Come over to this machine Jess. I just want to run some tests." I walked over to a machine where I walked and stood in front of it and it took readings of pressure on my feet. I felt like I was failing a school test.

"OK Jess, come and sit down. These are the three pairs of shoes we have narrowed down according to your needs."

"Oh. Don't we just pick shoes we like anymore?"

"No Jess. Now we narrow your choice down for you and make it a much simpler and more precise process." So this is simpler??

I surveyed the three pairs of shoes in front of me. In terms of comfort they were all much the same. What would I know? I had no experience to go by. So I went with the pair I liked the look of the most.

Yay - hello new friends!

And that was that.

I wanted to wear them as soon as I left the store. My head was instantly consumed by empowering thoughts. I suddenly felt overcome with the urge to walk the Kokoda Trail. I felt like I could run. Hell, I just WANTED TO RUN! That was enough.  The shoes must have been fitted with some magic that made me want to exercise. I was pumped.

I shared these thoughts with my family, who all laughed loudly and shook their heads. They know me well. They know all about my allergy to exercise. They smiled and nodded as I spoke of my 5 year goal to walk the Kokoda Trail, knowing confidently that it was nothing but a dream.

This fueled my fire. The more they laughed, the more I wanted it.

I've always felt that religion and exercise are on the same channel. I previously believed they filled a void in someone's life. But not my life. I wasn't going to fall for either. That was then.

Four months have passed, and instead of hearing the voice in my head say 'you don't have time' or 'your back hurts', I now hear it say 'please go for a run!' and 'your back will hurt if you don't do this' or even 'you know you want to!'

I am jogging up to 6km now. I look forward to it and I believe in myself. The dream is still Kokoda, but first it's the Inca Trail, and even before that the Bridge to Brisbane run. I am writing this here to be accountable to it. Another incentive.

I am fitter today than I was three months ago. I have a long way to go. It's all baby steps, but I'm loving every minute and gaining more and more confidence every week.

DD took this pic. It was the best of about 29746 photos she took of me running.

My children wave and cheer for me like I am the star runner in the school athletics carnival. Sometimes they join me on my laps around the house paddock. We are each others biggest fans, and nobody believes in me more than them. My mother says the shoes must have wings which make me fly, and my family are now my biggest cheer squad.

Six kg lighter, and feeling better every day, and nobody is more amazed than me.

The moral to this story (and I like morals to my story) is that if I can do this, ANYONE can do this. If I can motivate myself (using only apps on my iPhone) then absolutely anyone can. I'll keep you posted on my progress to the B2B and the Inca Trail!

PS. I found a bridesmaid dress that fits, and won't necessitate the removal of any ribs. So everyone involved has kicked a goal!

If you want more information on what it is I'm doing, please get in touch with me and I'm happy to pass on more information. Or if you want to sponsor me on my quest to get to the Inca Trail, I'd love that too :)

My Superstar

As it turns out, Olivia (my eldest), is something of an athlete. She's 5 of course, and I am being a stage mother. But in all seriousness, the girl can run! This is her (5 year age champion) in the front middle (yellow shirt). Tiny little munchkin in between all of those big kids. All of those serious athletes. I could just die with pride.

She really practised hard in preparation for this day.

In the afternoons, on the way home from the school bus, we stop the car about 2 km from our house (it's within the boundary of our property) and I let the kids take turns of sitting in my lap to 'drive' home. It's a farm thing. This year, however, Liv has decided to let her out 200m from the house so that she can run home. I'm not kidding. Clearly I was from different stock. I NEVER would have wanted to run home! Drive home, yes. But RUN home... NO WAY! But that's what she does. We stop at the last grid, and she runs home, way out in front of the car. Grinning from ear to ear the whole time.

So when it came to the sports carnival, where the Preppies (her year level) were running 50m, the stage Mum in me took over. I knew she had this in the bag. If my little girl can run 200m so quickly at home, she could do 50m no worries. The real issue wasn't the distance itself, it was mostly that she had never really run against anyone else before, and didn't fully understand the notion of 'competition.' So how do you instill 'run your hardest, and try your best' into your child, when all you can think is 'Flog them! Run so fast, that you can sit and watch them walk in 3 minutes later!' So I just went with, 'Hey Liv, this is a race. So run your hardest, try your best, and have fun! Oh, and no need to wave at Dad and I - we'll be waiting for you at the finish!'

And then the race was on. CP and I were cheering her on, and she got off to a fantastic start. But wait! What was happening??? Why are you stopping Liv?? Keep running! GO! GO! Run sweetie! Run! And then just as it looked like her competition was about to beat her, she stepped it up and barely beat them over the line. But it was CLOSE. We were (okay, I was) so proud! Okay, we both were, but I was relieved too.

Me: Hey darling! How good was that?! You did so well! I'm so proud of you! How do you feel?
Liv: Good. (Big hug)
Me: For a minute there, I thought you were going to stop! You normally run so much faster at home! But boy am I proud of you! You gave it your best!
Liv: No I didn't. I felt bad for the other girl, and thought it would be nicer if we could run next to each other.
Me: Oh okay...

Phew.

So yeah. And then she completely surprised us by winning long jump as well!

Considering I don't have an athletic bone in my body, I was completely amazed by her efforts. Clearly those genes don't come from me, however, my mother would be quick to point out that there have been other good athletes on our side, even if those genes did manage to avoid me entirely. So anyway, looks like athletics could be her 'thing'. Lucky, considering the limited range of community options for country kids, when it comes to extra curricular activities. It's either athletics, league, swimming, pony club or ballet (if you are prepared to drive more than an hour several times a week, there are a few other activities available too). My child will probably never be a world class ballerina, pianist or cellist There is no one close by to nurture any latent talent. So it's good that Olivia likes athletics.

Today we had her swimming carnival. Olivia is not a 'champion' swimmer by any means, however one thing the girl does have is confidence. Her PE teacher called me last week to ask how I felt about putting her into a 25m swim event, when he wasn't sure she could really do it. It seems that Olivia felt that she was more than capable, and had even discussed the possibility of swimming on the side of the pool, so that she could stop if she needed to. I swear that my heart could have burst with pride after that phone call. And then today, on the way to the pool, she told me that she just can't wait to hear people cheering for her. Amazing.

And so here she is today.

That's my baby up the back with the two 'first' ribbons. But I have a confession. I thought they were 'participation' ribbons. Sympathy ribbons. I was wrong.  But let me go back a bit to explain.

I took my other two (smaller) babies to the pool with me this morning. We wanted to cheer Olivia on. We knew she would be in a few races that would probably be too hard for her, and we wanted to let her know that we were proud of her. Anyone with small children would understand what a nightmare it is taking them to a pool. Especially if you are there to watch another child. I just don't have the number of sets of eyes that is necessary to keep all of my children safe all of the time. So yeah, I was frustrated. And it was raining. So I was cold, and wet too.

But there we were, cheering Liv on, and she was loving it!

She was grinning from ear to ear, swimming her little heart out. Well, more like 'monkeying' along the edge of the pool, but she tried so hard, and I just love her for it. But you definitely couldn't call it 'swimming'. So we cheered, she grinned, and she did this three times before finally coming and telling me she was tired.

And she got her ribbons, but I truly didn't think they were 'firsts'. In all honesty, there were only one or two of them in her races. So at lunch time, when her three races were over and she had dried and dressed herself, I suggested we head home. Olivia wasn't keen on leaving. She wanted to stay and cheer on her friends in their races. I looked at Sam and Darcy - dead on legs - and then told Liv that we could stay for two more races to cheer on her friends. And cheer she did. She did the war cry. She ran up the side of the pool, calling out the names of her team mates and friends. She clapped and smiled. I was so proud that my baby girl had so much more team spirit than even I could muster. And when the two races were said and done, we went home. As we left the pool, Liv asked me what would happen if she got a medal at the end of the day? And herein lies my confession.

I truly believed that there was no way Olivia was in the running for a medal. I had two smaller children crying and almost sleeping in my arms. I just wanted to go home, and so I made excuses for what would happen with medals and said we would find out what would happen on Monday.

And then this afternoon I learned that Olivia took out Age Champion. And my heart broke. I mean it really broke. Oh me of little faith. I broke the news to Olivia, who was still smiling, and still excited about how the day panned out. She told me we can sort it all out on Monday. I love that girl. And I know she will go to sleep tonight dreaming of stars. I really love that girl. I have learned my lesson too. But I'm not going to dwell on this one. I am lucky. As much as there are restrictions that come with living in such a remote area, I am lucky that I am even in a position to attend my children's sporting events. And so, as it turns out, Olivia, who not only possesses 100% confidence that she can do anything (even if her ability is far less as far as percentages go), really can do anything. The swimming is the clincher. We don't have a pool. We drive 40km to access ANY pool, and yet she can still take out age champion. Go figure!

If my children wanted to do ANYTHING, they certainly can. It just means a lot of miles in the car. Even for league, the 'district' covers more than 500 square kilometres. Some weekends families drive over 4 hours in order for their children to play competitive sports. Crazy. But it's just what we do.

I am certain there is a 'soccer mum' just itching to get out of me. Right now I'm happy to hide her away safely   within the confines of our property. So long as my children are happy and having fun, I'm happy for them. I just want them to do their best, try their hardest and be proud of the fact that they have had a go. And be supportive of other people too. Just like Olivia was in her 50m run, and when she was supporting her friends and team mates in their races in the pool. It was more important to her to run and swim together with the other competitors, than it was to win. And that's more important to me than any ribbon or medal.