June 2013 - A month of snail mail... and connecting with what's important

My experience this week has caused me to do some reflecting, and think about what is truly important to me; in work and in life.  How often do we do that? Reconnect with what is at our core... What drives me? How do I represent myself to the world? What am I truly committed to? Why do I care so much about something, and not about the next? What is my fear holding me back from? What is possible? What is impossible... and is it, really?

Giving myself permission to examine these things was incredibly powerful for me this week. I encourage you to do the same. 

And if you're really brave... share some of it with your loved ones, friends, colleagues. You might discover a new connection, commonality, shared commitment. Try it on.

As part of my adventures this week, I reflected on the aspects of my life that I value most. For me, the most profound item on that list, is my relationships with my husband, my friends, my family, myself.

I am left asking myself - Am I true to my values in my expression of actions and words? Am I prioritising and governing my energy and resources in a way that nourishes the parts of my life that I care deeply about, and is aligned to what is truly important?

...

Last night, I returned home after 3 nights away for work, and (along with my hubby and puppy), there were two treasures waiting for me - a letter from my beloved Grandma S, and a second letter, from a much loved friend.

Receiving a handwritten letter, in a handwritten envelope is a rare gift these days.

My Grandma read my last correspondence (a postcard from Skenes Creek post marathon), then took the time to respond. To relate. She looked up my address in her book and carefully copied it to the envelope. She selected an appropriate stamp from the packet (the one with the Sumatran orangutan at Perth Zoo), and purposefully affixed it. Later, she remembered to post it, probably going out of her way.  Along with her warmly informative and interesting letter, I received the implied message - She loves me. I can tell, because she took all of that action to follow through on her commitment to our relationship. She showed me I am special to her. Just like she is to me.

The second letter, from my friend Jacqui was a response to a letter I wrote the day we returned home from Skenes Ck. My letter was full of self-indulgent crowing about my achievements. Jacqui's response was much more modest, full of all the things that are important in her life at this time.  Reading her news, rather than hearing it, enabled me to be a more attentive listener - just absorbing all that she wanted to tell me, she wasn't rushed, I wasn't finishing her sentences, or applying my own interpretations and filters to what she was saying. And I get to read it again whenever I want.

I feel that the simple, intentional and mindful act of writing a letter is seriously underrated. It sends a message of care and consideration. It says, I want to share my thoughts, experiences and feelings with you... but I don't want to interrupt you. I want you to hear these things in your time. And respond in your time.

We are staying connected. These letters are adding interest to my days and value to our relationships.  I'm responsible for keeping the conversation going with Grandma and with Jacqui. I can see they are committed to the same.

So... for every day for the month of June, I commit to writing at least one letter to someone that is important to me - the kind that requires a stamp, or at least an envelope. And I started a day early, with three cards sent this morning. Go team!

Cathedral Range Escape

This afternoon we returned home from a relaxing, picturesque and delicious weekend in the Cathedral Ranges. A weekend away with my wonderful in-laws - celebrating some belated birthdays, and clocking up a few hours of R&R... something we all needed.
 
We stayed in 'the hideaway' at Elite Stays, off Cathedral Lane near Taggerty. http://www.elitestays.com.au/index.htm . The website really doesn't do this place justice. After looking at a few bed & breakfasts nearby, we thought Elite looked like good value and decided to give it a go.
 
Chris and I arrived after dark on Friday night. Jen and Garry were already settled in, the fire was roaring and the cottage enveloped us in its comfort. The owners have done a beautiful job of furnishing the two bedroom, two bathroom cottage. The huge master bedroom had separate bath (the deep, water up to your neck kind) and a king sized bed. The second bedroom, albeit much smaller has breathtaking views of the cathedral ranges, which you can admire from the crisp, white linen-dressed, queen sized bed.

A bay window in the second bedroom, and another in the living area provide
gorgeous views, and a quiet place to sit and contemplate one's navel.


 The cottage has wooden floors throughout, a very well equipped kitchen, including coffee machine... and pretty much every window frames amazing views of the ranges and surrounds.

This is the view I enjoyed while cooking breakfast on Saturday morning

 

 (taken from the living room window on Saturday morning)

 

Our source of warmth. In the background, the outdoor dining area (for warmer days).

The property has a family of sheep, being overlooked by a gorgeous alpaca (Jenny getting aquainted with the menagerie in the photos below).

 

The original excuse for the trip was a fly fishing guided tour for the boys - they spent the entire day on Saturday walking upstream on Goulburn river tributaries. No fish biting unfortunately, but a day improving their skills, bonding and whatever else men do while fishing!

 

Meanwhile, back in the cottage, Jenny and I enjoyed a day of reading by the fire, and a walk in the foothills. We also had a quick drive in to Alexandra (apparently the whole town shuts down at 1pm - so get in early!) On the way back from Alex we went looking for Clearstream Olives (signposted on the road to Thornton) ... we found the address, but there was no sign of a shop. Bit of a shame. We ate cake instead. There may have been a little nana-nap in there somewhere too.

For dinner on Saturday night, we ventured about 15km from base, to Rennie's restaurant in Acheron. Run by the incredibly talented artist and cook, Marian Rennie. We have tried Rennie's once before - about a year ago, and remember it was outstanding - great food and wine. So, confident we'd get a yummy meal, I booked us a table for Saturday night.

 

When we arrived, we were seated, then Marian came to our table and explained how things work - "We have no menu, I just feed you... sound ok?". Heck yes. Spontaneous adventurism! And boy did she feed us! As each dish was delivered to the table, it came with Marian gracefully and proudly introducing the dish, and explaining how it was prepared - answering questions and adding value to our culinary experience. She also checked in with us during each course, to seek feedback and make sure we were enjoying every mouthful.  (We were).

 

We started with drinks and a tasting plate, adorned in delicious house-made/cured/marinated morsels including salmon gravlax, marinated fetta, feijoa with roasted tiny tomatoes and relish, meat pastries, marinated mushrooms (enoki and something else - these were really special), bread just out of the oven, awesome and interesting dips... and so on!

 

Second course was rare beef salad... Marian explained she had marinated it for 2-3 days in herbs and spices, then quickly seared the outside. The salad contained roquette, figs, beef, a delicious raita, pomegranate jewels, coriander, kaffir lime leaf. Seriously the best thing I have eaten in a long time. Fresh, light, satisfying. I want the recipe.

 

A surprising treat came before third course - a browse in the gallery behind the main building, exhibiting a local artist's (Robert Young) work. Clever, detailed pieces all telling a story. Open until early June.

 

 

We sipped our wine and enjoyed the display, picking out our favourites and chuckling at Mr Young's cleverness!

 

Back in the warmth of the restaurant, we got stuck into third course - baby chicken roasted with rosemary, fennel and cumquats. Yum. We had two between the four of us - and picked the bones clean. More pomegranate too I think.

By this stage, we were stuffed full, but couldn't bear to turn down dessert after the joys of the previous courses (FOMO - fear of missing out!)... and we weren't disappointed.

Mini lemon tarts, turkish delight, home made chocolates, baked cheesecake with persian fairy floss topped with stewed cumquat and pistachio,  pavlova, and finally pears poached in saffron, cardamom and white wine. More yum. Really stuffed now. Need to undo the top button full. The bill (no menu, no ideas of cost... risky, yes) came to around eighty bucks a head, including drinks. Damn good value for 4 courses of extraordinary food. A memorable night. We'll be back. Might even take some photos next time!

Stumbled back home, carrying our bulging guts, and rolled into bed for an easy 10 hours of zzz's!

After breakfast, the boys went fishing for a few hours, Jen read about 4000 pages of her book and I went back to sleep (my excuse is that I ran 45km last Sunday!). Wrangled a much appreciated late check-out at 12.30pm, and had a quick stop at the Dairy Cafe in Alexandra for lunch, before heading our separate ways for home.

Almost ready for another busy and fun week...

Great Ocean Road (ultra)Marathon - 19th May 2013

On Sunday I did something a bit different, out of the ordinary. Something beyond what I’d thought possible a few months ago.

I ran a marathon. Actually, an ultra-marathon (45km).

Traditionally, the marathon is a running race of 42.195km. Why so specific? Well, the legend goes along the lines of this: The Greek army prevented the Persians’ attempt to invade Greece in 490 BC, out-muscling them in the Battle of Marathon. The Greeks sent news of their win with a Greek messenger, Pheidippides. He allegedly ran his guts out in the 42.195km journey from Marathon to Athens, announced “nenikekamen” (“we won!”)… then collapsed and died. The adage that pain is temporary and glory lasts forever didn’t really work for poor, exhausted Pheidippides! Anyway, that’s his claim to fame, and the apparent inspiration for the modern marathon. Let this be a warning to young players. Preparation, hydration and fuel are very important steps to avoid likely death!

On Friday morning, after about 5 months of preparation, physical and emotional ups and downs, self-doubt, injury and other setbacks (including getting the flu 2 weeks out from race day!), I packed my gear and hit the road with my awesome husband and wingman, Chris.
 

Mr Solum

We collected my cousin Louisa at the airport on our way through to the Great Ocean Road. Louisa lives in Sydney, and has been my marathon training buddy/motivator/idea-bouncer-offer person for the past few months. I signed up because of her, and she signed up because of me. What the heck were we thinking?!

An example of my research in the lead up

Once on the road, Louisa and I convinced each other that the “nervous” feeling was actually “excitement”. Yeah, that worked for about 5 minutes. The drive along the GOR was glorious, and gave us the opportunity to study the elevation profile (read ‘really big and intimidating hills’!). We arrived at our home-away-from-home in Skenes Creek and settled in. A short run before dinner to loosen up and try to shake the nerves excitement.

(The view from our house at Skenes)

A fairly sleepless Friday night – agonizing about what to wear (long or short sleeve, how much food to carry – all the things that I should have squared away well before the eleventh hour!)

The Great Ocean Road Marathon carnival started on Saturday morning, with a 6km return run from Apollo Bay to Marengo. There were also some other great events, including a wheelchair race, a 14km run, and a kids 1.5km ‘dash’. Our friend Cathy ran her first event in the 6km race, smashing her expectations, and well and truly catching the running bug. Look out runners, there is a new girl in town.

Cathy and Michelle

Cathy soaking up the high-fives on the way to her finish line!

 

Along with Louisa and I preparing for the full marathon distance, our posse included my sister in law, Lib, and her partner Christian running the half marathon. 

 

with Loui and Lib

Saturday evening, my stress levels well into the danger zone, with my cohort less concerned with preparation for the big day, than watching the Norway caboose and Nana Mouskouri lookalike (with diamantes in all the wrong places) on Eurovision semi-finals. I dealt with this in the only way possible – barking instructions, setting alarms, running through the plans, setting out the gear, and only just stopping short of frog-marching the gang off to bed at a reasonable hour.

Unfortunately, another restless night, eventually found a few hours in the early hours of the morning and woke up at 4.25am, a few minutes before my alarm was due. For the record, I am not a pretty sight at that time of morning. Exhibit A:

 

I sat in front of the heater, drinking strong coffee and eating delicious fruit toast. As the food filled my belly, the fear filled my mind.

The other sleepy runners joined me around 5am, enticed by the coffee brewing on the stove. I showered and climbed into my running gear (assembled after a very tedious dress rehearsal on Saturday). Number pinned to top, shoes tied, fuel and phone packed, and an armful of water for the journey to Lorne… We set off by car, in the dark and rain, for Apollo Bay.

Upon arrival in the ‘Bay, we parked the car and tiptoed around puddles forming in the car park – doing our best to avoid wet-shoe-hell and almost certain Pheidippides-like demise. Hundreds of nervous excited people squelched onto buses – almost all of them careful to choose the bus going to their preferred destination…! (Kennett River for the halfers, and Lorne for the full marathon crazies). Loui and I grabbed the front seat behind the driver – in a futile attempt to stifle imminent travel sickness, and chatted nervously excitedly for the whole journey.

It was dark when we left Apollo Bay, and as we slowly wiggled our way along the coast, night started to crack into day, with the sunlight peeking around the cliffs and spilling out onto the black ocean. This was an unexpected delight, and was the start of a day of magnificent views of ocean, sand, rock, cliff and sky.

We arrived in Lorne a little after 7am, and made a bee-line for the toilets – filled to busting point with our amateurish hydration strategy! Louisa and I found a dry spot to sit, stretch and try not to vomit from nerves excitement. We made a new friend, Patrick, who was about to run his third GORM… Patrick has chalked up so many marathons that he has lost count… was it 27 or 28? He offered his encouragement, advice and photography skills… and before we knew it, it was 10 mins to go-time. Nervous pee…last minute texts and photos… hugs and words of encouragement… envy Craig Mottram’s long legs… turn on strava… gawk at the guy wearing union jack budgie smugglers and a bow tie (no shit!)… quick calf stretch… and we’re off!

I kept pace with Loui for about 10 seconds, then watched as she vanished into the sea of bodies moving much faster than me. I hung to the left as we headed out of Lorne towards the pier, admiring the view and thinking about all those Pier-to-Pub weekends I’d enjoyed with family and friends over the last few years. Groups and solo runners, old and young, tall and short, thin and… wait a minute – mostly everyone looks buff! Lots of expensive sports gear, watches, fuel belts, sunnies, hats and fancy long socks.  People laughing, chatting happily, others studying their watch and reporting ‘we are on track for a 5-hour marathon if we maintain this pace’ (less than 1km in! Sure. Good luck with that!). I had a chuckle at another who asked ‘are we there yet?’ around the same time. Not even close.

 
1km into the marathon...44km to go!

At the 1km mark (I know this because there was a sign saying ‘Apollo Bay 44km’), I decided to get my tourist on, and take some photos – there were plenty of others doing the same, marveling at the view and just enjoying the moment. I was a little shocked when I asked a fellow runner to take a photo for me, and he grumpily barked back “this is a race, not a fashion parade”. Hmm. Thanks anyway! Selfie is the answer. I passed him puffing his guts out on a hill a few km later, and drew satisfaction from his displeasure… then instantly decided to send him some positive vibes, because it’s bloody hard, and us marathoners have to stick together! (did you notice that, I’m a ‘marathoner’). 

The first 10km flew by, and I enjoyed every minute – the views were magnificent, and it just felt totally fantastic to be running (after being stuck on the couch with the flu only 2 weeks earlier, with my mind full of doubt). I felt thankful that my body could carry me along that beautiful coastline. The runners’ high found me at about the same time as the race started… and thankfully hung around a while. The first drink station was at 5km, I was carrying my own water and didn’t stop… before I knew it, I was approaching the Mount Defiance lookout (about 8km) – I’d barely noticed the hill. A honey shot approaching the second drink station at 10km – took the opportunity to refill my bottle and thanked the awesome volunteers manning the station.

I started chatting with Brian and Edith, from the CanToo running team (there were 45 runners from Melbourne and Sydney in a team, raising funds for cancer support, having fun in fluoro orange tanks and looking after each other). Brian gave me a high-five after discovering I was a marathon virgin, and they both shared their experiences and advice. After Edith announced that they were aiming for a 5 hour marathon, I decided it wasn’t wise to keep pace with them, and backed off – reminding myself that my objective was to make it to the finish line before the 2.30pm cut-off.

I chatted with Ian from Nunawading, who was busy executing his strategy to walk up the hills and run down (go with gravity, man!). I could hear him coming on the downhill, as his heavy stride in vintage NewBalance cross trainers smacked into the asphalt. The right shoe had a large hole on the inside near the ball of the foot. Maybe his dog chewed it. Maybe he cut it deliberately for ventilation. I wish I’d asked now, but he is gone forever!

Drink station #3 (15km), followed by hills and the first major landmarks that I’d memorized – Separation Creek and Wye River. The distances were not signposted for the first 22km of the run, so I had made myself a little (nerdy) bracelet, setting out the major landmarks, hills, drinks and checkpoints for my support team. It helped a lot.

 red - big hills, blue - drink stations, yellow - dad/mum checkpoints

 

 

I chatted with Glenn, the cop from Narre Warren who was aiming for 9km/hr pace. We ran together for a few kms. He had stayed in his campervan the night before the run, and not slept much either (this made me appreciate the heater and warm husband-cuddles I’d had the luxury of enjoying). After Glenn patted off ahead, I caught up with Megan, a 46y/o Melbournite running her first marathon. We agreed we were totally awesome, and that it wasn’t that hard so far! Her hair-tie had broken, and she was trying to find a replacement. She got lucky around Wye River, where some friendly gals were handing out lollies – and one was nice enough to sacrifice her own up-do for Megan’s comfort. After a few minutes I pulled away from Megan, and caught up with Matty from Craigieburn. He was running with two workmates – one was named Wayne. Wayne had been putting Matty to shame with his training – running 22km to work and back several times a week. (Wayne ended up beating me across the line by six seconds!)

Matty was concerned about the approaching Kennett River hills, 2-3km of steady climbing after the 23km mark. This was his third GORM, and the hills had broken him in the previous years. I later passed him on the KR hills, and he was still running!

approaching Kennett River

As I approached Kennett River, I was running alone. My brother had been tracking me on Find My Friends (an iphone app using GPS), and met me a few hundred meters before KR. He was full of encouragement and positive reinforcement, and it was awesome to take a few steps in synch with him. His girlfriend was chief photographer, and my Dad gave me the best hug ever. I felt great at this point, and was happy to report this to my super supportive crew! They had lined up an inventory of gels, jelly beans, water, powerade… and loads of compliments and positivity. A quick costume change, refuel and refill… and I was back on the road. Toilet block was a welcome sight.

Dad <3

It lifted me so much to see the family, and kept me going until the next checkpoint at Wongarra (33km).

On the way to Wongarra, I ran with a young guy from Ballarat named Dave (studying final year teaching at Wagga). His longest training run was 21km… and he was wasn’t surprised that his knees were in agony around the 30km mark. I gave him the last of my Nurofen and convinced him to wait til the 31km drink station before he attempted to swallow it. He asked if he could run with me for a while, then took a break when we finally reached the 31km drink station (after we were convinced the volunteers had packed up and gone home, because it felt a long way since the 25km drinks. That was a long 6km!)

I had my first walk in the hills heading towards Wongarra – after realizing there were people walking almost as fast as I was ‘running’. Powerwalk – a little relief for the legs, and still heading in the right direction. Walking doesn't really count as stopping, honest! Had a stretch somewhere there too, as the hips and calves were screaming, and my back was starting to complain. I passed a guy who looked like he had forgotten how to run, and was racking his brain trying to figure out how to make his legs move. I offered him some supplies but he politely declined. I ran on, guzzled a carbo-gel and looked up to see the Dad-support crew again at the Wongarra postbox. Hooray. Only a short break this time, to grab some more supplies. Took the opportunity to give the broken guy a bottle of Powerade as he shuffled past and looked longingly at my cocoon of love, support and goodies. Sharing is caring. I hope he made it to the end.

The worst of the hills were (allegedly) over by this point, with Smythes Creek marked on my bracelet as the end of the big hills. Wrong. Those hills just kept coming. Or maybe my geo-perspective was a little off, but the running started to hurt a lot. The uphill walking strategy from Nunawading Ian was working for me at this stage.

I knew Mum was at Skenes Creek, which was 6km on from the last family checkpoint. The leg from 33km (Wongarra) to Mum (39km at Skenes) was definitely the hardest part of my day. It took a massive amount of self-talk and bargaining to get my sore, sorry legs to Skenes Creek. There were two memorable moments during this leg, 1) noticing ‘Barb’ from the CanToo team – she looked fit and experienced, and had been near me a few times throughout the run. I was happy to have kept pace with her. 2) the wacky, sweaty guy singing along loudly and well out of tune with his music. I shared my jelly beans with him. I congratulated him when I saw him at the finish line, and he thanked me for the lollies (and apologized for the singing!). All was right in the world.

I almost cried when I saw Mum’s red sun hat as I ran down the hill into Skenes. She was beaming and snapping photos on her phone. We swapped water bottles, and I offloaded my spare food, to lighten the load for the final leg into Apollo Bay (6km). She was in the right place at the right time, and seeing her spurred me on. Maybe Pheidippides just needed his mother!

The marathon finish line (42.195km…have you memorized it yet?) was actually about 3km from the official finish line (45km). After leaving Mum in Skenes Creek, I passed the 40km distance marker, and started smelling the finish line. I overtook Brian (he was the CanToo runner with Edith earlier planning the 5 hr mara). I wondered whether something had gone wrong, because we were surely beyond the 5hr mark? When I spotted the marathon finish timing checkpoint I did a double take. The clock was showing less than 5 hours. I couldn’t believe it, I had expected to be somewhere around 5:30:00. I sprinted (ok in my mind it was a sprint, but in reality probably looked quite ridiculous) for the mara-finish line and crossed at 4:58:47, 31 minutes faster than my dream time! Wow. Go me. Many other participants stopped running as soon as they passed the mara-finish line, and were walking towards the official finish… but I couldn’t stop. I was desperate for the finish line, my hubby’s cuddles, my friends’ support and to let myself stop running. I was also really excited to see Louisa and find out about her journey. The 3km between the mara-finish line and the ridgey-didge finish happened quickly (I think I ran a PB!). There were other runners who had finished, walking back along the road, with their medals hanging around their necks, cheering and calling out encouraging things like ‘you look fresh!’, ‘keep going’, ‘you’re almost home’ and ‘congratulations marathon runner!’ People were hanging out of their cars whooping and waving. All of this helped with the continuous forward motion.

 

Approaching the finish line, the crowd thickened, the high-fives started and the loudspeaker became audible. I spotted Wayne (friend of Matty) as he started pushing for the finish line. I tried to keep pace with him, but my legs wouldn’t cooperate. About 50 meters from the finish line I saw and heard Chris cheering and smiling at me, along with all my buddies. I high-fived an orange panda… and somehow found the energy to do a heel-click as I crossed the finish line. Someone put a medal around my neck, a cup of water in my hand and I stumbled to the closest chair. A second later my hubby’s arms were around me and I was a sobbing mess, unable to stand. My face was sore from smiling for 5 hours. I was so happy that I had done it. I’d run a freaking marathon! My final time for the 45km was 5:13:57.

some crazy woman at the finish line

Louisa reported a fantastic first half, allegedly running out of steam later… but still coming across the line for the mara at 4:07:54 and finish time of 4:22:47. Totally awesome! I realize how lucky I am to have shared this experience with her.

Hugs all round, the story telling began and a copious amount of salty, fried food was consumed. Dim sims have never tasted so bloody good!

The wash up:
Day 1 - world of pain, especially hips and back
Day 2 - same as day 1
Day 3 - body aches and pains slowing down, returned to work, dizzy, fierce headache... and felt like sleeping at my desk all day
Day 4 - body almost back to normal, looking forward to a treatment from my osteopath tomorrow.

I think the mind is going to take a little longer to recover than the body!

Hoping to pull the runners on again over the weekend.