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I’m probably (most definitely) not alone.  It’s probably not unexpected and in the grand scheme of things it probably isn’t the end of the world, but I probably shouldn’t have so confidently proclaimed to the world, in Movember, that I would shed 20 lbs before the end of 2012.

I almost got there.  Up until last week that was, up until I ditched my daily runs, my healthy eating and every ounce of self respect I had.  Despite vowing not to let the festive period derail me, I didn’t even get that far.

You have probably guessed by my rant, that I slipped…big time.  I’ve slipped before. I’ve slipped many times before. But I’ve always picked myself up, I’ve always managed to prevent any long lasting damage and I’ve always appreciated that it happens.

I’m aiming for a six pack, but currently sporting more of a keg

But 12 lbs in two weeks is my greatest EVER gain (post transformation) and I was seriously in danger of undoing months of work. Chances are, given my normal slow carbohydrates intake, that a fair percentage of this is water but it still both deflates and inflates me. I’ve lost the same 10 lbs about 4 times in the past 6 months.  For, you see, it’s time for a bit of honesty.  To myself and to anyone who follows my posts.

I’m currently at the same weight as I was this time LAST year. Although I’m running further and a little faster (and easier) my body shape and weight hasn’t progressed. I’ve probably improved my endurance and I’ve possibly increased my leg muscles, but upper body strength and fitness have probably not improved much.

I could probably so easily say that 2012 has been a waste, that my fluctuating weight and lack of progress has derailed my goals, my ambition and my life.

But that’s probably a little unfair. 2012 has seen me complete my first 10km, my first triathlon, my first Half marathon, my first Tough Mudder and my first Spartan Beast.  It’s been a year of firsts. But first and foremost, it’s also the year that I fell in love again.  While my heart rate probably hasn’t improved much, my heart is beating strong.  Yes, I’ve eaten too many refined sugars, but it’s been croissants in Paris, churros in Madrid, fudge in Edinburgh and scones in the Lake District with my lovely girlfriend, who loves me for who I am. My life is richer, happier and better.  So, while I am disappointed in my weight, I am probably…no scratch that… I’m definitely the happiest I’ve ever been.  You can’t always measure your life by the scale. Some aspects carry more weight (pardon, the pun) than others. But with a few Challenges ahead I need to address my free fall and get back on track. No point in waiting for January 1st.

So, here is the truth.  My name is Stephen and I’m a sugar addict.  Today is the first day, in a while, that I’ve went sugar free. It is going to be the first of many.

Henry Ford proclaimed that the man who knew his job well, never considered himself an expert.  He was too busy seeking new ways to improve and get better to think about how efficient he was.

Now, I’m far from being an expert, but I do constantly seek new ways to improve myself. And I’m not naive or big headed (enough) to think that I can coast my way to running 26.2 miles comfortably in May’s Edinburgh Marathon, without careful preparation and regular running.

For the past few weeks I have, against the advice of my previous post, being putting in some regular miles. with even a cold earlier in the week not stopping me doing seven miles today with another five planned for tomorrow and my longest run yet, of fifteen miles, on Sunday. Before long I’ll be up in the twenties, with nothing stopping me…..

And then I remembered about the terrible toos – doing too much, too soon, too fast.  It goes against my mantra of “Only Too Much Is Enough” but then I also remembered something else.  I’ve only been running for just over a year  and although I have the race bibs and medals, the snazzy running shoes and kit, the soon to arrive (Santa willing) Garmin 610 which will make me the happiest, most excited and appreciative bunny in the world and a strong passion for running,  I know practically nothing about Marathon training. 

Like the Sea Captain in the Simpsons, I look the part, I talk the part and I live the part but like him, when his boat sinks, I have to admit: “Y’ar, I don’t know what I’m doing!” .  I do know that I should only really be increasing my weekly longest run by a maximum of 10% and that a fair percentage (or unfair, you may say) of those training for marathons never see the start line, due to injury.  I don’t want that to happen to me.  I have too much riding on this and it means too much to me to scupper.  My marathon effort will not be sunk. 

So I had an Epiphany of sorts and decided I needed an expert of sorts. I needed someone who has been there, got the bib and who could mentor and train me, both physically and mentally,  for the biggest race in my life.  Someone who I could trust with my development and trust not to shy away from telling me when I was going adrift (sorry for the sailing puns).

So being a Jog Scotland member (look out for my feature in the New Year edition of Stride), I went searching on their site for registered running coaches/groups and lo and behold I found some old friends, who had introduced me to the joy (and pain) of Pilate’s.  Jen and Elle of Forward Fitness Glasgow 

I got in touch, explained my voyage and my intended destination and quickly agreed that I would let Elle be the captain of my ship, that she would be the wind that guided my sails….right enough seafaring  puns, sorry.

Her first pieces of advice were, to start lifting heavy things, to supplement with peptides and cut Sunday’s run to 10 miles (music to my ears….just hoping she isn’t a siren).  Along with..get a bike.  Now, I’m not one to question specialists and I was especially fearful of being made to do a plank (sailing and Pilate’s pun) but at this point I reminded her that I’m running the marathon.  I’m a brave guy on the keyboard but having been on the end of a few Elle broadsides in the past (she’s a no-nonsense -but fair-trainer), I was waiting for her rebuke.  Thankfully Elle simply advised that it would help strengthen my peg legs and then that I should invest in some ice grips for my running shoes.  Guess we will be setting sail in all weathers. 

But come what May, I’ll be ready and in the Edinburgh Marathon I will be flying the flag for all those feel their weight limits them and prohibits them from change.  

If I can do this, so can anyone. 

Yesterday someone on Twitter asked me if I was aware how bad for my health running could be?  If I realised that running more than 25 miles a week was possibly counter-productive?  And my answer was yes and yes!  I had, like most runners, read the latest research that linked running excessively at excess speeds (Phew, I’m ok there) with possible wear and tear on the heart.

Great Video here explaining the theory.

Although I was participating in Run the World (7 days of 5Ks  in support of Doc Andrew Murray) I was aware that just maybe my body needed a little bit more rest.

So I told him that I like running….but that is only half the truth.  I’ve realised that my need to run (I jumped out the car, the other day-I was the passenger!- and ran to work) is also driven by my childhood disability and by all those (myself included) that doubted me, at first.

I want to run because I never thought I could and I want to run to help those that help others .  So this weekend I’ll add another 13 miles to the 30 I’ve already done this week when I take part in the Wobbly Williams Half Marathon and then in May 2013, when I run in the Edinburgh Marathon, I’ve decided to try and repay those that helped me walk. Yorkhill Children’s Hospital.

Without the care and attention I received there, my childhood (which wasn’t all fun and games) would have been much harder.  

I appreciate that I’ve been relatively lucky. While I couldn’t walk, I was otherwise healthy and although my father’s method of parenting was questionable (and possibly illegal), my mum’s love has always been unwavering and  unconditional. 

And, I had also made another change to my daily runs. I was no longer the lone wolf. Up until this month I always ran by myself.  Partly because I liked the solitude but also because I still didn’t class myself as a “proper” runner. I was conscious of both my speed (slow to middling) and my style….or lack of it.  But then, one day, a colleague asked if he could join me and in addition to thinking that he was a sound guy, it’s my dream to inspire others to get more active….so I said yes. I won’t lie. I quite enjoyed being his mentor and it was nice to have company. But soon the student became the master and  after only a few runs, every run was ending with me at his heel. But I don’t mind.  As he has got faster, so have I. We’ve both improved and next week we become a pack with another two colleagues joining us.  In January, I hope to turn that two into 200,000 but that’s another post.

Walking was the activity that opened up a world of opportunity. I went from walking around my block to hiking for 18 miles in the Highlands of Scotland. It brought me serenity and opened my eyes to the beauty that surrounded me. For years I had walked with my eyes down, as not to catch anyone’s attention.

However, I longed for more. As a child I suffered from Perthes disease, which ate away my hip bone and left me dependent on firstly a wheelchair and then crutches. For years, I was reminded of all the things I couldn’t or shouldn’t do. Even when I was able to walk unaided, we were told that I would be troubled by my hip and that I shouldn’t participate in vigorous sports. I had one leg shorter (only slightly, mind you) than the other and when I ran after the ball or chased my friends, some couldn’t resist asking if I had a limp.

After a few times, I stopped running.

And when I first decided to lose weight I again attempted to run a little. Partly because it would aid my weight loss but also because I wanted to do something, that I’d told myself I didn’t want to do because I couldn’t do it.  It wan’t the limp or even my weight burdened knees that stopped me this time, but instead the howls of laughter and shouts of “on you go, fattie” from passing vans and cars. It was humiliating and made me both angry at them and at myself.

After a few times, I stopped running.

The shouts may have dented my confidence but they only hardened my resolve and determination. Each morning I would ask myself how many miles will I walk today and I never wavered? As I got slimmer and more confident I decided to try running again. I downloaded a coach to 5k podcast, ventured out and set about running for a little and then walking for a bit.

After a few times, I stopped walking    :o)