I Want to Ride My Bicycle

I’m definitely getting older. Well, that’s what the optician, dentist and physiotherapist told me within the space of a week last month.

Ahead of The Big Cycle, I’d booked an appointment with Achilles Heel because I felt my knee, which I’d injured at football in June, was still continuing to act up a little. My ‘usual’ physio, Shona, was still on maternity leave, but I saw another therapist who was equally positive and reassuring. I’d aggravated the medial ligament, but it would heal, and running and cycling would help. Emma also gave my tight calf muscle a massage, which made it feel a hundred times better.

I’ve found from my half-dozen or so visits to Achilles Heel that their physios are very good at addressing the mental side of injury, working with you to increase confidence and understanding of what your body is still capable of, and what you can achieve with a rehabilitation programme.

While I’d said that I was going to try and avoid football until after the cycle, the guys being a man short the Thursday beforehand resulted in me playing after all. I then told myself that I wouldn’t run around daft. Which I did. However, Emma had given me some stretches to do after exercise, which I did before the 22-mile drive home. I also applied RICE (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation) to the knee before I went to bed. It seemed to help; I had markedly less pain for the following two days.

On the Saturday, I tried to prepare for the cycle as best I could, but it was something of a leap into the unknown. The longest I’d cycled in one go before was just over 50km, so I was definitely pushing myself farther.  Nevertheless, I packed my bag the night before, and tried to get a decent night’s sleep. My train for Glasgow was at 9:30am.

I met up with the rest of my retinue at the People’s Palace; Graeme had dropped out for personal reasons, but Gail and Craig were still there. Mike had brought two of his friends, Tony and Robbie. Over the course of the route, we would split into two groups of three.

By the first stop, at Drumpellier Park, near Coatbridge, we’d lost sight of Mike, Tony and Robbie. We refuelled for ten minutes, before pressing on with the next stage, through Airdrie and out of the Glasgow conurbation, to the countryside and the small town of Avonbridge. This was the part of the route with the highest elevation, of around 227 metres above sea level. From here, it was a skoosh towards Edinburgh. Or so I thought…while that would turn out to not be precisely the case, soon after we left Avonbridge, in the one-street village of Standburn, I happened to glance to my right and noticed the southern tower of the Forth Road Bridge, which my great-uncle helped build. We were getting closer.

It was mostly downhill to Linlithgow, where we stopped for a late lunch.  I had planned to eat something substantial here, but the queues for the complimentary pasta and sandwiches put me off. Craig and I ended up on Linlithgow High Street looking for a sandwich shop. I eventually bought a banana and ate a caramel wafer, which would later come back to haunt me.

We were also able to deduce at this point, through the wonders of modern telecommunications, that Tony’s gears had exploded at some point before we’d even left Glasgow. While one of the course mechanics had tried to MacGyver his bike, it was a write-off. Mike and Robbie had managed to catch us up however, which indicates just how much faster their average pace was.

Linlithgow Castle

Craig and Robbie discuss the ride so far.

Linlithgow Castle feeding station

Linlithgow to Kirkliston was something of a climb again, and I got the distinct impression that I was starting to run out of puff. The last of the five feeding stations was at Kirkliston, and I gleefully took the opportunity to take on more sustenance, only to have something of a tete-a-tete with a steward, who told me I couldn’t leave my bike where it was, amidst a field strewn with other bikes. I muttered under my breath, and left in the huff, being the sort of person that is willing to cut off his nose to spite his face.

As I suspect I’d become somewhat undernourished, the last seven miles turned into a Nietzchean battle between mind and matter. At least, that’s what it felt like the latest time the land began to rise in elevation YET AGAIN. By the time we reached the suburbs of Edinburgh, I felt as if I was beginning to lose my mind. I’d fallen behind Craig and Gail at Davidson’s Mains, and the only thing that kept me going amid the pain in my legs, arse and back was the estimate that I couldn’t be much farther than a couple of miles from the finishing line.

I’d familiarised myself with the route beforehand, to an extent. When the cycle path crossed West Coates, I knew it wasn’t far. Indeed, Scotland’s national rugby stadium was literally round the corner. I only had to make it across the apron, through the tunnel, and down the running track, and I was across the finishing line.

The route then took us back out of the other side of the stadium, where we received our medals and the opportunity to dismount our bikes for a while, to the blessed relief of every part of my body south of my navel. I completed the ride in just under six-and-a-half hours; Gail and Craig were slightly faster.

Thankfully, we didn’t have to cycle back. We’d paid for coach transport, and for our bikes to be returned to Glasgow Green by courier. Unfortunately, I still had to cycle back to Central station, and then from Neilston station to my house. Thankfully, that was almost literally all downhill. I rewarded myself for my exertions with chips, cake and lager, and an increased sense of satisfaction.

The following week I tried to avoid exercise as much as I could. While I am a lot fitter than I’ve been for years, I was still acutely aware that my leg muscles were grumbling morosely about their mistreatment. I was able to play 5s on the Thursday night, and this is where things got interesting…

While I suspected that I might have felt the ill-effects of the cycle, I actually played one of my best games in years. I felt fit, strong and fast, free from any of the niggling aches and pains that have piped up whenever I’ve tried to play football in recent years.

The last week, I’ve tried to get back into the swing of my exercise regime. I didn’t make it to the gym much, and I discovered the rear tyre on my bike has a puncture. I didn’t feel my performance at 5s on Thursday was anywhere near as good as the previous week, but I did manage to secure a new personal best at parkrun on Saturday morning.

Right now, I feel okay, and I’m planning next year’s athletic endeavours. On Sunday, I went to Bellahouston Park to cheer on my friend Helen in her first triathlon. I had considered entering myself, but it transpired I’d never be able to raise the sponsorship required to take part, but it had planted a seed. Over the winter months, when it’s too dark and cold and windy to run and cycle, I’m going to learn to swim properly. Oh, I can swim a bit, breaststroke mainly. But that’s not going to cut it in a triathlon. I need to get my front crawl down pat. Additionally, my fellow gym/running bunny, Jude and I have also decided that we’re both going to enter the Edinburgh half-marathon next year.

So those are my new targets. And I will meet them. Oh, and you can still donate to our JustGiving page, should you wish.

My three sporting achievements: Paisley 10k (2013), Wolverhampton University 3rds F.C. Most Improved Player 2002-2003, and the Fresh ‘n’ Lo Pedal For Scotland (2013)

Born to Run

I’ve always ran; while playing football or British Bulldog, or trying to shake off that feeling of euphoria you get after seeing a really good action film at the cinema. However, I’ve never been a runner. As a sport, plodding around an oval or across country never really appealed to me.

And then I began to to experience the strangest desire to run. I’m not sure when it started, but I think it was after watching joggers bob along the pathways in Central Park in New York in the spring 0f 2008. And if I’m being honest, I think it was a reaction to the fact I’d recently developed shin splints. Now you want to run?

However, for the next five years, the very thought of being able to go out for a five km run that didn’t involve chasing a ball seemed unlikely. Playing five a side twice a week caused my lower legs to ache, to the point where I was barely able to run during games. I had x-rays done, orthotic insoles fitted, even an MRI; nothing unusual showed up.

Then, last summer, my right knee swelled up apropos of nothing. When it returned to its normal dimensions, it did so with a cadence of sharp pain, most noticeable when I climbed stairs. I went back to the doctor, who referred me to the physiotherapy department at the hospital. They diagnosed bursitis and referred me to the physiotherapist at the local health centre. He diagnosed a muscular imbalance and gave me acupuncture and exercises.

I started playing football again, but before long the knee was tender and swollen after games. Nearing the end of my tether, I booked an appointment with Achilles Heel Sports Injuries Clinic in Glasgow. Shona there suspected I’d suffered anterior cruciate ligament damage, and also had some scar tissue behind the knee cap, but that it wasn’t anything I couldn’t compensate for. Over the course of four or five months, she helped me work out a programme of exercises to strengthen the knee, and as my confidence grew, the notion of running returned.

I bought a pair of £95 running shoes, that allegedly address my over-pronation issues, downloaded a running coaching app, and started pounding the streets of my hometown on Saturday mornings. Initially, it was hard work, but my legs felt okay. Distance running is a very different beast to the sort of running I was used to in football, which is more of a mixture of sprints, short bursts, jogging, and the occasional standing still waiting on Davey retrieving the ball from the other side of the fence. It was around this time I saw the Paisley 10k advertised, and the idea of entering a race took hold again.

With something to aim for, I continued training, although this was interrupted in June when I managed to trip over the ball at football and twist my good knee. I rested for five or so weeks, which ate into my preparation time, and only returned to training three weeks ago. Last week I ran at Parkrun in Pollok Park for the first time, and completed the five kilometre course in a time of 33 minutes. I’d done about as much as I could.

I did buy a magazine book on how to get started in running last week, but aside from that I didn’t do a great deal of research into how to maximise my performance. I was willing to write today’s event off to an extent, due to my knee, and the fact it was my first race. I was more concerned about lasting the course than doing it in style.

I did okay, I guess. 1 hour and seven minutes, which represents an age grade of 39.85%, which according to the Runner’s World website represents

Your age-graded score is the ratio of the approximate world-record time for your age and gender divided by your actual time.

To score 100% you would need a time of 27:10.

Your age-graded time is your finish time adjusted to that of an open division participant using a factor for age and gender. Thus, the times for women and older participants are adjusted downward, while the times for most open division participants (such as 25-year-old men) remain the same.

That actually represents a slight improvement on my performance at last week’s 5k, where I scored 39.55%.

The best thing about today’s race was crossing the finishing line, getting a medal, and knowing I’d finished the damn thing. The best thing about today was the shower I had about an hour after I finished. As I type this, I have a compression bandage and anti-inflammatory gel on my left knee, and an ice pack freezing in the kitchen. Everything below my waist hurts; my hips, my quads, my knees, my hamstrings, my feet. I have half a notion to enter another 10k this year to see if I can improve my time, but I have a physio appointment on Wednesday that may dictate if I’m forced to rest up for the foreseeable, or if I can keep running.

Right now, I’m sore but I’m happy. I’ve achieved something that I set out to do, and I did so by working my arse off, and trying not to get too despondent with the litany of niggling injuries I’ve had the last five years. I haven’t always been able to see those sort of rewards for my endeavours, so this is definitely a boon.

August 2013 Update

The comeback continues. In my last update, I wrote about how I’d sprained my knee playing football, and how I was worried it had jeopardised my participation in the upcoming 10k road race run and 75km cycle to Edinburgh I’d signed up for.

Thankfully, the knee appears to have healed quite well over the last nine weeks, due mostly to a period of enforced rest from exercise I guess. Four weeks after the original injury, I’d attempted to play football again, and I just didn’t feel right the following day. However, two and a half weeks ago, lying on my bed on a comfortably warm and sunny Sunday afternoon, I decided that it was too nice a day not to get out for half an hour or so on the bike.

Thankfully, there was no major reaction from the joint this time. Encouraged by that, I’ve logged 118.3km in the last 18 days. 50.4km of that was accounted for by a 3 hour long ride out to Lochwinnoch and back last Sunday, which equates to roughly two-thirds of the distance of the Pedal for Scotland course. With that challenge being less than five weeks away, I’m now feeling a little more confident about my ability to last the distance than I was in July.

I managed to get out for a run as well last Saturday. I’m still making quite a slow pace, but I’m more wary about what running will do to my knees than the cycling. In fact, the app I use suggest I should be running three times a week, rather than the once I’m currently managing. We’ll see if that changes over time, but at the moment I’m working towards completing the 10k in less than an hour. I’ve potentially only another two training sessions before the race though.

In other fitness news, my college assignment is (hopefully) done and dusted, so I’m getting back into the gym, and last night my sister and I attended our first Muay Thai class. I’m still not sure where I stand on pugilism, but her neighbour runs the class, and she asked me if I wanted to go…

I did karate for six months or so last year, and I am intrigued by the notion of being able to handle myself, ostensibly for self-defence purposes, but…I do like punching things. This may represent a way for me to dissipate my permanently tumultuous anger in a controlled fashion.

Interestingly, the instructor asked me what hand and foot I preferred, and when I told him the left, he suggested I adopt the southpaw stance. However, the vestiges of the karate training led me to continually fall naturally into an orthodox stance (you learn the orthodox stance in karate, regardless of your limb dominance). My sister also suggested that my right hand was more powerful, although I don’t know if that’s because I was attempting to punch harder with that hand. Anyway, aside from the combat element, it was an extremely good hour’s workout.

I won’t update again until the second week of September. By then I should have completed both my 10k and my bike ride. Wish me luck!

July 2013 Update

There’s something of an unwritten rule among casual 5-a-side footballers that you don’t play on the eve of a holiday, because Murphy’s Law dictates that you will get injured.

And that’s exactly what happened. I had elected to play 7s the night before I flew out to Benidorm for my friend David’s stag do, and lo and behold, about half way through the game, the ball, the dry astroturf, friction, gravity and I got in a fankle, and I ended up banging my knee against the hard surface with some force.

I played on, stupidly enough, and I was still fit enough to make the flight to Spain. On my return to the UK however, I arranged to see my GP. He suspected that I’d sprained the knee, but it would heal itself given enough rest.

While I was relieved I hadn’t done any serious damage, I was still slightly concerned about the impact this would have/will have on my participation on the cycle ride to Edinburgh in September, and the 10k Road Race, two weeks’ earlier.

My fitness regime has already taken something of a kicking, with two colds (in April and June), a college assignment to complete, and a period of malaise following a misdiagnosed dental problem. I have played football once in six weeks (a perhaps ill-advised early comeback from the knee injury two weeks ago). I haven’t been to the gym, swam or cycled in months. I anticipate that’ll change in August, and it’ll have to if I’m going to do any sort of running in the 10k.

On the positive side, my weight’s remained pretty stable, even allowing for the fact I’m not using the meal diary any longer. I’ve bought two new suits and several new shirts to reflect my new body shape, and I’m feeling a lot more confident about myself, and that’s all I could have asked for this time last year.

One Year On

Well, that’s a year, give or take a few days. A year since I decided to start a blog documenting my attempts to recover from a knee injury and to try and get fit.

The purpose of this blog was to track my rehab, as I attempted to reach a plateau of fitness that would allow me to take part in a 10k run. At first, the notion of losing weight didn’t cross my mind, but it lurked in the background, like the nuclear threat. At some point I would have to address it.

In May 2012 I weighed 17 stone and 4lbs. My BMI was 31.12 and my body fat content was around 34%. By the NHS’s BMI tool’s reckoning, I was obese, and while I was playing five-a-side football once a week, I was struggling with shin, back and particularly a knee problem.

I didn’t set out intending to lose weight, because I’d tried to watch what I ate in the past, but it never seemed to have much effect. I stumbled into the weight loss programme I’m currently using, almost by accident, when I started using a pedometer to track my steps each day, and realised I was burning calories.

I had always known that calories provided the body with energy, but for some reason I hadn’t realised the average human being needed to consume around 2000kcal per day just to keep their motor running. That’s 14000kcal per week, and 1lb of fat is equal to 3500kcal. As soon as I realised I could measure my calorie intake using a meal diary, and create a small surfeit, the weight began to drop off. The table below shows the difference between my vital statistics a year ago, and today.

	1 Year Ago		Now
	Metric	Imperial	Metric	Imperial
Weight	110kg	17st 4lbs	84.6kg	13st 4lbs
BMI	31.1	Obese	23.9	Normal
Fat	~33.6%		20.50%
Waist	107cm	42"	88cm	34.6"
Hip	108cm	42.5"	96.5cm	38"
Chest	114cm	44.8"	104.5cm	41"

Because the weight loss has been a slow and gradual process, my friends, workmates and I haven’t really noticed a great difference. Physically, I do feel a bit better about myself, although perversely I think I was actually fitter last year; I was playing football regularly then.

I won’t lie, I’m still experiencing some problems with my knee, although the wonderful Shona at Achilles Heel in Glasgow has assured me that this is within tolerance, and by all standards the joint is in decent condition.

As a result, using this blog and my Twitter archive has been useful to let me track my progress more objectively, by reminding me how frustrated I felt eight, ten, twelve months ago. I know that using the words ‘objectively’ and ‘feel’ in the same sentence seems counter-intuitive, but as my friend pointed out, sometimes you forget how down you were, or how much progress you’ve made. Having a record of the change, or otherwise in your mental outlook allows you to look back with more clarity.

Looking through my tweets, I first started experiencing this problem with my knee in August 2011, and I had my first hospital  appointment in January 2012. Having since had three separate physios manipulate and investigate the joint, I’ve had three or four different diagnoses. Bursitis, tight quads/weak hamstrings, ligament damage, scar tissue; all have been suggested as reasons why I occasionally experience pain and swelling after exercise.

As I continued with my weight loss, I took up Pilates (which I’m still doing on a regular basis), and karate (which I gave up after achieving my red belt, for non-physical reasons), but I still felt that my knee wasn’t quite right. Four or five sessions with Shona helped me immensely, as she assured me my knee was strong enough to do what I wanted it to, I just had to regain confidence in it.

I started going to spin classes at the leisure centre again. And I bought a pair of £100 running shoes, with support designed to counter-act my feet’s tendency to over-pronate. I’ve started running once a week, using the iPhone app I mentioned in my original blog post, building up the distance I run each week. I’m currently doing ~4k in half an hour. That’s a slow pace, but the programme is currently divided up into blocks of walking and running, each week getting closer to running flat our for 30 minutes.

I got my bike serviced as well, after having nearly killed it trying to adjust the brakes myself. In the last few weeks I’ve done a 20km and 30km cycle, and I’m hoping this will be a weekly occurrence as we progress towards the 47-mile Pedal for Scotland challenge in September, which I’ve signed up for. I’ve also booked my place in the Paisley Vision 10k in August, which was one of my goals set out in last year’s manifesto. If I’m being honest, I don’t expect I’ll be able to run more than half of it, but even that is progress.

And most excitingly, for me anyway, is that last Thursday night I made my football comeback, playing a game of 5-a-side for the first time since last September. I felt okay and reasonably fit during the game, as I had been running and cycling. The next day I felt as if my bone marrow had been replaced with adamantium, but a couple of days further on, I’m feeling okay.

So what are my goals for the next 12 month period? I intend to stay at this weight for a start, around 13 1/4 stone. I’ve changed my eating habits dramatically, but gradually over the course of the year, so I think it’s unlikely I’ll ever put on as much beef as I did again.

I want to keep running and cycling, and I’m considering once more the notion of entering a novice triathlon. The cycling and running distances wouldn’t be an issue, but I’d need to improve my swimming technique, but I don’t think it’s the pipe dream it once was.

Has the last 12 months of obsessively tracking what I ate, going to the gym, karate, running and cycling been worth it? I’d have to say yes. I’m feeling a lot happier about myself.

March 2013 Update

Yes, yes I know. Like everyone else that writes a blog, I swear that I will update the journal on a regular basis…and then I don’t. That said, updating every week when there’s nothing to say would arguably be worse. Anyway, it’s been around three months since my last post, so without further ado…

In terms of weight loss, from being 110kg, or over 17 stone in May of 2012, as of this morning (the 3rd March 2013), I’m now 89.8kg, or 14 stone 2lbs. As far as BMI goes, I’m still apparently slightly overweight, so I’m going to continue with my calorie deficit eating plan for now. Since the new year, people seem to have been commenting on my weight loss, observing that I look different, and that I look good, in some examples. However, a few people I know what perhaps suggested I don’t need to consider losing any more weight. They may be right. I think it is certainly a case of being happy with the way you are, and I am, to an extent. But having lost three stone in ten months after ten years of slowly putting it on, and not knowing how to do anything about it, I’ve got the bit between my teeth now. I want to push on, to see how far I can take it, to be able to say that for at least a year or two of my life, I had the body of an underwear model. Hey, every man has his dream, right?

On a more practical note, I think my knee problem was exacerbated by the extra weight I was carrying for so long. I had my final physiotherapy session with Shona in January, and she was happy enough with the condition of the joint to suggest I didn’t need any further appointments. I still have grumbling pain in my knee, but it’s improved so far over the course of the last year, and a good deal of that was down to Shona helping me understand what was going on physically, and how to build up my confidence in using the knee again.

I am still progressing towards my goal of running a 5k, although I’m taking such a circuitous route about doing it, you’d be forgiven for thinking I’m doing nothing at all. I’ve signed up for Pedal for Scotland in September (it’s a long story), and so I’ve been taking a couple of spin classes a week, as well as the old faithful Saturday Pilates session, and fitting in a visit to the gym whenever I can. I had a programme update at the leisure centre this morning, having not done so in far too long. The difference in how I felt immediately afterwards was noticeable; I hadn’t been shocking my body enough recently for my workouts to have as much effect as they should have. And, for the next four weeks at least, I’m going to be going to a circuit training class run by my sister’s friend.

It hasn’t all been positive though. I’ve stopped going to karate. I did enjoy it to an extent, but it was taking up too much time and money, and as a result of a difference of opinion I had with a classmate, I found I was spending all day Tuesday and Thursday worrying about that evening’s class. I have something of a history of grinding my teeth when something is preying on my mind, and inevitably, my teeth began to start acting up. When this happens, it’s a sensation I find particularly abhorrent, so I made the decision to take a sojourn. And the teeth feel much better.

I’m still weighing up the pros and cons of buying those £100 running shoes, so the 5k and a return to football is still very much a target, but I feel like I’m slowly getting closer to it.