Post by Di on Oct 11, 2008 18:42:50 GMT -5
How I trained for a half-marathon just after giving birth, by BBC newsreader Sophie Raworth
They say you do crazy things when you're pregnant. Mine was signing up to do the world's largest half marathon - the Great North Run.
Back in January, when I was eight months pregnant and could hardly walk, October felt a long way off. It seemed a good idea at the time.
I'd put on about three stone during my third pregnancy, so I thought if I set myself a target like that, I would make sure I had lost all the weight by the time I went back to work in September.
I had run it in 2006 when my middle child, Georgia, was nearly one. This time I was cutting it fine. I would have to start training within weeks of the birth.
Oliver was born on March 9. After eight weeks of sleepless nights, I started gearing up for a bit of light exercise. It wasn't easy. I found every excuse not to run - too tired, too heavy, too soon.
May:
Finally, during a holiday in France, my husband Richard pushed me out of the door and I was back on the road after nearly a year. Everything hurt.
I was still a stone overweight and I really felt the difference on my joints. Mentally, I was exhausted too after weeks of getting up at least once every night with Oliver.
We headed off downhill, running for about 20 minutes before heading back up what felt like a very steep road. I gave up and walked, too puffed out to go on. Suddenly this 13-mile run seems like an impossible goal.
June:
Back in England and back on flat ground, I have decided to run my oldest daughter Ella to nursery three times a week. She's on her scooter, I run alongside her through the park, drop her off and run home. It's only 2.5 miles. Other mums at nursery are rather impressed. That spurs me on.
July:
I'm still up most nights with Oliver. I'm drained, I don't seem to be losing any weight and I haven't run more than three miles without stopping. Another mum at nursery says I need to 'up the pace' and offers to bring her dogs and come running with me.
We set off on a gentle jog along the river to Hammersmith Bridge and back but a group of kids start hurling abuse at us so we decide to go the long (five miles) way back to avoid them.
August:
I've had a horrible chest infection for three weeks and have been feeling dreadful. The doctor finally puts me on antibiotics. I haven't been able to train at all. I tried once but had a coughing fit after about two miles and walked most of the way home.
September:
I'm back at work, and finding time to run has been virtually impossible. Up before 6am, at work until after the lunchtime news, and by the time I've picked up my daughter from school, then fed, bathed and got all three children to bed, I'm exhausted.
Until now I've managed to fit in at least one long run a week and two shorter ones. But my new routine puts a stop to that. I'm hoping the daily bike ride to work is keeping me fit, though I fear it's no replacement for running.
Three weeks to go:
I managed to slip out tonight once the kids were in bed and my husband was home. For the first time I try speed training - sprint for a minute then rest for a minute. Felt light as a feather. Either I've lost all my baby weight or that's what you get when you don't run for a week. Don't dare get on the scales, so not sure which it is.
Two weeks to go:
I attempt our usual Sunday morning eight miles round Richmond Park but after a couple of miles I want to stop. A woman jogger overtakes me. I wish I had a sign on my back saying 'just had a baby'.
I catch up with Richard and I'm back on track. Images of me crossing the finish line in under two hours flash through my mind.
We come up behind two men dragging car tyres. 'Why are you doing that?' I gasp. 'We're training for the South Pole,' comes the reply. That puts it all in perspective.
One week to go:
Finally got a run in. Only five miles, but enough. I was all ready to go on Wednesday after work, but when I got home, my two-year-old threw her arms round my neck saying: 'I missed you mummy. Pleeeease come and play with my fairy castle.' End of running plans.
Race day last Sunday:
Glorious weather as we set off with 52,000 other runners. I start at quite a pace, doing 8.5-minute miles, which would get me to the finish in less than two hours.
Then it all goes horribly wrong. I didn't see a small rock, stepped on it and sprained my ankle. Agony, but Richard told me to keep running. 'Dig your nails into your fingers and just keep going.'
It worked. After ten minutes I couldn't feel the pain any more.
I crossed the finish line, just about smiling, in two hours two minutes and two seconds.
My ankle felt OK until midway through a live interview with Sue Barker on BBC1 when it gave way.
There were comical scenes as, wrapped in a space blanket to keep me warm, I am dragged through a muddy field in a wheelchair to the doctors. They said I should be able to run on it in a fortnight.
Good job really because I've got the bug. Now I want to do the London marathon ... watch this space.
• Sophie was running for Friends of the Neonatal Unit at St George's Hospital, London. To make a donation visit www.justgiving.com/sophieraworth.
Best of Luck Sophie with the plans for the london Marathon, we will all be shouting you on.
Di xxx
They say you do crazy things when you're pregnant. Mine was signing up to do the world's largest half marathon - the Great North Run.
Back in January, when I was eight months pregnant and could hardly walk, October felt a long way off. It seemed a good idea at the time.
I'd put on about three stone during my third pregnancy, so I thought if I set myself a target like that, I would make sure I had lost all the weight by the time I went back to work in September.
I had run it in 2006 when my middle child, Georgia, was nearly one. This time I was cutting it fine. I would have to start training within weeks of the birth.
Oliver was born on March 9. After eight weeks of sleepless nights, I started gearing up for a bit of light exercise. It wasn't easy. I found every excuse not to run - too tired, too heavy, too soon.
May:
Finally, during a holiday in France, my husband Richard pushed me out of the door and I was back on the road after nearly a year. Everything hurt.
I was still a stone overweight and I really felt the difference on my joints. Mentally, I was exhausted too after weeks of getting up at least once every night with Oliver.
We headed off downhill, running for about 20 minutes before heading back up what felt like a very steep road. I gave up and walked, too puffed out to go on. Suddenly this 13-mile run seems like an impossible goal.
June:
Back in England and back on flat ground, I have decided to run my oldest daughter Ella to nursery three times a week. She's on her scooter, I run alongside her through the park, drop her off and run home. It's only 2.5 miles. Other mums at nursery are rather impressed. That spurs me on.
July:
I'm still up most nights with Oliver. I'm drained, I don't seem to be losing any weight and I haven't run more than three miles without stopping. Another mum at nursery says I need to 'up the pace' and offers to bring her dogs and come running with me.
We set off on a gentle jog along the river to Hammersmith Bridge and back but a group of kids start hurling abuse at us so we decide to go the long (five miles) way back to avoid them.
August:
I've had a horrible chest infection for three weeks and have been feeling dreadful. The doctor finally puts me on antibiotics. I haven't been able to train at all. I tried once but had a coughing fit after about two miles and walked most of the way home.
September:
I'm back at work, and finding time to run has been virtually impossible. Up before 6am, at work until after the lunchtime news, and by the time I've picked up my daughter from school, then fed, bathed and got all three children to bed, I'm exhausted.
Until now I've managed to fit in at least one long run a week and two shorter ones. But my new routine puts a stop to that. I'm hoping the daily bike ride to work is keeping me fit, though I fear it's no replacement for running.
Three weeks to go:
I managed to slip out tonight once the kids were in bed and my husband was home. For the first time I try speed training - sprint for a minute then rest for a minute. Felt light as a feather. Either I've lost all my baby weight or that's what you get when you don't run for a week. Don't dare get on the scales, so not sure which it is.
Two weeks to go:
I attempt our usual Sunday morning eight miles round Richmond Park but after a couple of miles I want to stop. A woman jogger overtakes me. I wish I had a sign on my back saying 'just had a baby'.
I catch up with Richard and I'm back on track. Images of me crossing the finish line in under two hours flash through my mind.
We come up behind two men dragging car tyres. 'Why are you doing that?' I gasp. 'We're training for the South Pole,' comes the reply. That puts it all in perspective.
One week to go:
Finally got a run in. Only five miles, but enough. I was all ready to go on Wednesday after work, but when I got home, my two-year-old threw her arms round my neck saying: 'I missed you mummy. Pleeeease come and play with my fairy castle.' End of running plans.
Race day last Sunday:
Glorious weather as we set off with 52,000 other runners. I start at quite a pace, doing 8.5-minute miles, which would get me to the finish in less than two hours.
Then it all goes horribly wrong. I didn't see a small rock, stepped on it and sprained my ankle. Agony, but Richard told me to keep running. 'Dig your nails into your fingers and just keep going.'
It worked. After ten minutes I couldn't feel the pain any more.
I crossed the finish line, just about smiling, in two hours two minutes and two seconds.
My ankle felt OK until midway through a live interview with Sue Barker on BBC1 when it gave way.
There were comical scenes as, wrapped in a space blanket to keep me warm, I am dragged through a muddy field in a wheelchair to the doctors. They said I should be able to run on it in a fortnight.
Good job really because I've got the bug. Now I want to do the London marathon ... watch this space.
• Sophie was running for Friends of the Neonatal Unit at St George's Hospital, London. To make a donation visit www.justgiving.com/sophieraworth.
Best of Luck Sophie with the plans for the london Marathon, we will all be shouting you on.
Di xxx