Stepping up

After recovering surprisingly well in the week following Perth Marathon in June this year, after talking with a local ultra runner and event organiser, and with the support and "just give it a go" attitude of my mountain biker husband, I decided to capitalise on the fitness and endurance I'd gained through marathon training and work towards the Waterous Trail on Foot 50 Miler (WTF as it's affectionately known - you can make the connection). There is also a 100 Mile option which runs Through the Night, which is the event's slogan. This event was once run on the Waterous Loop Trail south east of Perth, but has since moved to the Munda Biddi mountain bike trail which my hubby knows like the back of his hand, so I could utilise his navigation and company on reccy runs.

Having never run more than a standard marathon before, and only doing that distance twice, on a flat road course, the prospect of running 82km on a hilly (by Perth standards) trail was more than mildly terrifying. I Googled a few training programs and pulled something together that I thought I could make work with kids, work, and life, and started training. Most programs I found were 16-20 weeks long and suggested a 4-6 week post-marathon recovery before starting, but I only had 13 weeks until the event on September 26th, so 13 weeks it was (and I just ignored the part about marathon recovery)! I was hoping I wasn't going to be hopelessly underdone. The prospect of rocking in the foetal position under a tree somewhere beyond 42.2km, with only snakes and kangaroos for company did cross my mind more than once.

A favourite mid-week training run I do is an 8km tempo. I like running 8km. I like getting to 5km and only having 3km to go. So in my head I upscaled this concept by a factor of 10. Let's forget the extra 2km (because quite franky when you're up to 80km are you even still counting?) - once I get to 50km I'll only have 30km to go. It's just like an 8km, right? Concept sold, to yours truly, by yours truly. Yet another running mind game. I was going to need a few more than just that though to get me through potentially 10 hours on the trail.

My program built up to a couple of 100km weeks, with most weekends having a long (read: stupidly long) run on Saturday followed by a shorter run on Sunday. Fitting all of these runs in meant getting up at stupid o'clock most Saturdays to fit in up to 5 hours of running without eating too much into family time. This all happened towards the end of winter/early spring while it's still quite dark at stupid o'clock in Perth. I bought a cheapy ebay headlamp which turned out to be great, and roped in at least one other person to join me for part of my long run each week. I took my running gear on our winter camping trip up north and hubby would kick me out of the car in the middle of no where and pick me up in town.

Training near Shark Bay, WA - while on holiday

Donned in long sleeves, long pants and gloves, ready for wind and rain (and boy did it rain on a couple of those runs), the longest individual runs I did were a 48km trail run and a 50km on the footpath. Getting those runs under my belt gave me just enough confidence to think I might actually complete the entire 50 miles (even if some crawling was required).

Fast forward to race day. Stupid o'clock turned out to be 3:30am to get ready and drive to the start line for a 6am start. Day was just breaking and it was cold. I started with long sleeves on top of a singlet, long tights and gloves.

Everything packed up the night before and ready to go

The plan was to strip down layers as necessary over the day. I had drop bags at each of the 4 aid stations so I could offload some attire along the way and grab some nutrition. This is probably a good point to mention the volunteers on the course. I didn't have a crew and so was relying on myself (in a physically deteriorating state as the day was to progress) and the assistance of some volunteers to help me out with water & food along the way. They definitely came through with the goods. The vollies on the course were amazing, without them I would have been reduced to a rocking, hysterical ball on numerous occasions (more of that to come). If any of the vollies are reading this, you guys are da bomb!

Back to the race (where race = constant forward motion with no accompanying speed in this instance). The gloves were dumped at Aid 1, where I didn't stop more than to throw them into my clear zip lock bag (which I didn't retrieve until more than a week after the race - they could have walked themselves home!), and continue. I didn't want to break rhythm so early in the game by stopping. I'd been running with three other runners who were also first timers at the distance. We knew that we were probably being a bit ambitious with pace as most kms were around 5:30 min/km, but were walking the hills (with purpose! - a mantra I had practiced in training) to save the legs and figured slowing down was inevitable later in the day so we just stayed comfortable and didn't look at the watch too much. We all had a goal of "under 10 hours" and found the company helped pass the kms. Aid 2 came and went - I filled my hydration back and offloaded some rubbish but wasn't there for any longer than necessary. By that stage our group of four had split in two and I knew at that point that I was lead female. In the lead up to the event a few different people had suggested I was a good chance to place, and I'd largely ignored those comments as my only goal was to complete my first 50 miler and I didn't want any added pressure. It was at Aid 2 however that the pressure began to creep in. It became a game of holding my place - something I've not been terribly good at over shorter distances in the past. I knew there were at least two other women (who both have more endurance experience than I) not far behind and I was just waiting for one or both to come steaming past at any moment and leave me in their dust.

Somewhere between Aid 2 & 3, my trail buddy broke away from me and as I came to a turn in the trail I saw him up in the distance, going the wrong way. I had completely forgotten his name at this point (I've never been good with names), and so yelled a non-specific "cooooeeeeee" until he turned around. I waited for him to catch up and off we went again together for a while. It wasn't long before he broke away again though, and I was flying solo. Only there wasn't much flying happening. I hadn't run this part of the course before and it felt mountainous. It was at some point leading into Aid 3 where the wheels started to fall off for me. I'm not sure if it was as I passed the 50km mark and entered previously uncharted territory, or if it was the middle of the day and things were warming up (and I was still wearing my long sleeves), but as I stumbled into Aid 3 at 55km, one of the vollies asked if I was ok and if I was going to faint. I didn't realise I was looking quite that bad but stammered out "water.....head" and they obliged. I had only eaten Clif Shot Bloks and a banana up to this point and more than five hours had passed so it was probably time for some real food. I scoffed a stack of about 8 Pringles from my drop bag and a salami stick that someone handed me. OH MY GOD! That salami stick was hands down the tastiest thing I have ever eaten, ever! And I don't even like salami. It somehow breathed life and healing into my muscles, lungs and soul like nothing ever had before. Salami-induced euphoria - it's a thing! The vollies filled my pack with water and fed me electrolytes out of my drop bag, and again I was on my way.

Even with magic, euphoric salami running through my veins, nothing could detract from the fact that my body had absolutely no idea why my head was insisting on continuing with the torture. The next aid station was only 11km from the last, the shortest distance between any two aid stations, but those 11km felt like the previous 55km and more. One of the girls passed me somewhere in here and while I wasn't sure whether to curse her, hug her or cry, I felt the pressure of being in first place lift. I thought I'd be more upset about losing it, but even though I was mad at myself for hitting a wall so early, I was relieved. There were hills like I didn't remember, even though I knew this section of the course well, and at 60km I was reduced to tears for the first time (not the last mind you, the valve had been opened).  I had pre-warned a friend that if the proverbial sh*t hit the fan, she may get a phone call. And phone call she got. She had also been warned that the only answer was "keep going, don't stop" which she fed me smoothly. We worked out that I only had a half marathon to go, and as I reached the top of a hill I had walked the entirety of while on the phone, I promptly told her I had to hang up and run down the other side so as not to waste a downhill. She continued to send me motivational images via text for the rest of the afternoon.  

I somehow made it to the final aid station, known as Treasure Island. The vollies at this aid station (whose surname is Treasure), put on the best spread you could imagine, in the middle of nowhere. There were Tim Tams, Nutella sandwiches, boiled eggs, potato chips, coffee, coke..... the list goes on. They even had pizza delivered there later in the evening for the 100 milers as they passed through. I was so relieved to have completed that last section that I ripped my back off, passed it off to someone to fill with water and sobbed uncontrollably on the trestle table. This took both myself and the volunteers by surprise and yet again I was asked if I was going to faint, or vomit this time, and did I want to sit down. I was to do neither, and certainly didn't want to sit down for fear of never getting up. I just needed a couple of minutes to recompose. Mrs Treasure gave me a big hug (for which I will be forever grateful), I skulled from an open can of coke I found on the table, the owner of which I neither knew nor regarded, grabbed another salami stick and went on my way. Sixteen kms to go. I had this. I was actually going to finish.

A few hundred metres out of Aid 4, up another disgusting hill which I was walking, I saw the female who was in third place. She had taken a wrong turn somewhere and added a few kms. Given how close she was now, I knew it wouldn't be long until she too overtook me. She was looking much fresher than I was feeling, despite a detour. I continued on, passing one runner who had missed the aid station (and hence a 6km out & back section) and was coming back to finish it and avoid a DQ. I was reduced to regular walking breaks by this point, but was beyond caring - I was going to finish by whichever means possible, and even if I did little more than walk the entire last 10km I would still come in under 10 hours. I'd just finished these calculations when I came across another runner who'd missed the aid station. We were a good 6km past Treasure Island so he decided against a 12km deviation to rectify the mistake, and to continue on with me and tack on some kms at the end to make up the distance. Missing the aid station however had meant missing out on the opportunity to refill his water. I was carrying a small bottle of electrolytes as well as a freshly refilled pack of water so I gave him my electrolytes and decanted some of my water into an empty bottle he was carrying. Missing the aid station had also meant his crew were still there waiting for him, not knowing why he hadn't yet arrived. I had better reception on my phone than he did, so we used that to let his crew know what was happening. While all this was happening, we were continuing to walk the uphills and run as much of the downhill and flats as we could. Both feet, but my left in particular, were really starting to hurt by this point and I was convinced that multiple bones were broken and that I would turn up to work after the weekend in a moon boot (possibly two - hysterical melodrama had now been added to the list of emotions experienced throughout the day). Every time I started to run, it would hurt so much that all I could manage was a few hundred metres at a time followed by walking. Cue tears #3. The thought of walking the last 7km was more than I could bear.

We passed Marrinup camp site and my trail buddy #2 decided to hit up some campers for some water. I decided not to wait for him and just get this thing finished so continued on in a pattern of run 300m (or until I could run no more), walk 100m. Soon there were 3km to go. I ran a little more in excitement but soon needed another walk break. Then the fork in the track appeared. You go right to the town, or left to the caravan park and finish line. I rounded a left and saw a small group of people and a finishing tape between two trees. It was the sweetest finish I've ever experienced. No giant crowd, no spectators lining a finishing chute, no timing clock, just a few friendly faces, most which belonged to finishers before me and spoke of the pain and excitement I was feeling. I had just run (well run a decent chunk and walked more than I had anticipated of) 50 miles in 9hrs 17minutes and 50 seconds and come in as 2nd female and 8th overall. It then occurred to me that I never had been overtaken by the women in 3rd place. It turned out she had taken another wrong turn and added even more kms to her day, but still crossed the finish line with a giant smile and seemed to be in less pain that myself. I was hurting like I have never hurt before, and while I couldn't negotiate anything other than flat ground and my feet resembled something from a horror movie, I was buzzing on endorphins. Hubby and the kids had gone to Marrinup to see me pass through, but I'd beaten them there. I called to find out where they were and politely warned him not to show up without a giant iced coffee. He came through with the goods and my girls fed me lollies they had brought.

I had to use my hands to manually pull my legs into my car for the few days that followed, and couldn't negotiate the single step down to my driveway without sliding my back along the house and walking my hands down the wall, but I think I may have just caught this ultra running bug, and the trail running bug to boot!

All In The Mind

*Forewarning: while I do have some biology qualifications, this post is only loosely based on fact, and largely based on personal experience. I have no sports qualification, I'm not a running coach, I'm merely one of the plebs who likes to run and I won't be engaging in any arguments of validity :)

With running in my local neighbourhood taking off like wild fire, a host of new to intermediate runner's ailments are popping up for discussion. While most are injury-related, another common theme is mind-training. Once, the initial euphoria of merely completing an event was enough to satisfy the soul, but as the beginner runner turns the seriousness up a notch, the metaphorical devil on one's shoulder often rears it's ugly head. Why is it that the body is always stronger than the mind? How can we overcome this and achieve our running goals? I've had a few recent discussions with people about training both mind and body so thought a post about the mind games of running was timely.

I'll try to address some techniques I've found helpful to push through the mind's very convincing attempts to grind you to a halt and order a pina colada (while sitting on a bean bag eating a vanilla slice), 5km into a 10km race. But first it might help to understand why we experience such difficulty pushing through a race we are clearly physically able to complete:

We are designed to run, IF SOMETHING IS THREATENING OUR SURVIVAL.

Sure we do the bipedal thing pretty well, our centre of gravity is fairly central through our midline, we've got giant glutes (some more giant than others) to propel us forward, unusually large feet for a mammal - I could don my David Attenborough cap and go on, but you get my point, we're not that bad at running. This is a great evolutionary adaptation to pull out when you're being chased by something that wants to eat you. Our fight or flight response usually makes us run, until the threat has gone. In reality that will happen (or you'll become lunch) well before 42.2km, or even 1km for that matter. So it's not that surprising that our head tries to tell our bodies to go have a nap after 1 rep of Yasso 800s. We're designed to conserve energy until it's needed, not run 100 miles through the night all for a small piece of metal we can use to help hold our pants up.

Humour aside, I'm sure this information isn't new to most runners, but it is useful to remember so we can push ourselves through the tough training sessions and the low points in a race. I am by no means an expert at taming the anti-running devil within. I'm not actually very good at it (as I've discussed before, more than once) and have had more than one race failure, where I let my mind convince my physically capable body that slowing down (or stopping) and throwing away all the hard earned training was somehow worth the relief on the legs and lungs. It wasn't. It sucked big time. So over the last year or so I've tried to compartmentalize all the little tricks that help push through the pain.

To the new runner, there is only one piece of advice I ever give. Slow. Down. If you find yourself stopping after 200m or your breathing is so laboured you can't utter a word, you're going too fast. It's well worth building a little slower-paced endurance before trying to smash out some intervals. Let your body feel what it's like to get comfortable running even if it feels like you're barely shuffling. Speed will come later. Join a running club, drag a friend out there with you, try and chat through your runs. Before you know it you'll have run a km, then 5, then who knows what the limit is.

Now to those who have a bit more running under their belt and struggle to push through the distance barrier, or to hold pace for that interval, or to make it through the final kms of a race, here are a few things that have worked for me (in no particular order).

1) Mix things up

Even when I'm not training for anything specific, I like to follow some sort of program. It normally includes a long run, at least one interval or tempo session and some easy stuff. I know that Wednesday is pain day, but that means more often than not that Tuesday and Thursday are easy days. I look forward to long run Sunday, as I often get to catch up with a friend, run through day break and push the endurance limits while clearing my head of the week's chaos. Cross train if you like. Training the cardiovascular system in any way will improve your running. Mixing it up keeps the training interesting and the different types of runs give you a variety of goals to work towards (speed, distance, number of intervals before collapsing in a heap etc). It also stops you from getting bored.

2) Run with friends

Never under-estimate the power of peer-pressure, and I don't just mean in training. Hold yourself accountable by telling someone (maybe not the whole world as too much pressure is fuel for the little devil) of your goals. If you think someone is expecting something of you, you are more likely to put in the work and not give up. There is generally only one person I tell of my running goals, and who you pick is a personal choice (the dog doesn't count), but accountability works wonders.

Along the 'Run with friends' theme, run with someone who's faster than you occasionally. This helps you push yourself further than you might on your own.

3) Be prepared

The best intentions in the world won't make up for lack of training. If you're a bit under-prepared for a race, admit that to yourself and shift the goal posts. No one can run a 3:20 marathon just because they wrote it on their fridge, and trying to without the preparation will end in tears. Being well prepared for a race (and hopefully getting there uninjured) can fill you with the world of confidence. Not everyone is like this, but I'll be confident of a goal time if I can run a third of the race distance, at goal pace, a few weeks out, and recover well. Use the McMillan online calculator. It is an exact science that, given appropriate training, is yet to disappoint me. McMillan predicted my first marathon time to the minute. I cannot sing its praise loudly enough.

"They" claim that the last 6km of a marathon is all mental. The next few points are directed largely at those last 6km (or equivalent proportion of a different distance).

4) Break it up

Any distance can seem daunting, so break it up into less daunting parts. Celebrate making through the first 3 of 6 intervals by saying "more than half way" as you start number 4. Break a 10km up into quarters. 2.5km is much easier to swallow than 10, and once you've done 2, only 2 more to go! I like to break the marathon up into 6 x 7km legs. Counting down 42.2km in 1km increments can make even the most seasoned marathoner become disillusioned, but chopping the session up into whatever distance you feel comfortable with will help to get the job done. Use the next aid station as your immediate goal, or the next gel. I even use this on the treadmill. I'm allowed a drink every 2km (even though my water bottle is right there all the time), so every 2km I celebrate with  sip of water. It may not seem like much of a celebration, but when you're trying to push through the pain barrier, you'll take anything you can get.

5) Pretend a dog is chasing you

You may laugh, but I have done this with success.  Have you ever been chased by a dog? The adrenaline that gets pumped through your body will have you giving the best 100m sprinter a run for his money. It doesn't have to be a dog. Pick your deathly-creature of choice. Are you terrified of snakes? Spiders? Clowns? They're chasing you, and they want your blood. Now run!

6) Think of a time when you have been in more pain

For me this is a no-brainer. Childbirth x 3. Number three will be really quick they said, she'll just slip out they said, stake out at the hospital in case you go into labour they said. Thirty-six hours, and 25 hours of back to back contractions later, the sweet little cherub made her appearance. Unless something goes horrifically wrong, no run I ever do will take 36 hours. Point made. Three and a half hours to run a marathon is a privilege in comparison.

7) Think how lucky you are

I read this on a blog a while ago, and it has merit. Think of how lucky you are to be physically/mentally/freely able to run intervals, enter a 10km event, try and run a PB parkrun. There are many out there who would love to do these things, given the chance, so do it well. Deep stuff!

8) Latch onto something

This could be anything. This could be tucking in behind some big burly guy and holding his pace for as long as you can. It could be reading some scrawny motivational sign that a goofy spectator is waving. It could be keeping the advertising slogan on the back of a stranger's shirt in sight. At Perth Marathon this year there was an ambulance (of all things!) parked up at a medic tent and in huge writing on a sheet wrapped around it read "SHUT UP LEGS". The first time I passed it I laughed. The second time I passed it I thought "That's got some merit". By km 25, when my ITB started hurting, threatening to ruin my perfect marathon, I just kept saying "YEAH, SHUT UP LEGS! SHUT UP!" and even though my knee didn't stop hurting, it helped me to push the pain to the back of my mind and not get distracted from the job at hand.

9) Find your driver

This was the most prophetic moment in my battle against the inner demon. I spent around 4 years working with the "you want this so badly, just do it" mantra. One day I realised I didn't actually "want" to run 10km in less than 45 minutes. At the 5km mark what I really wanted was a hot bath, a piece of chocolate cake and to not be running 10km. Then I discovered it had nothing to do with the run itself. It had everything to do with wanting to be strong. Mentally and physically strong, and running is just the outlet I have found to work on those things. I stopped telling myself I wanted it, and started telling myself I was strong enough, that I had worked hard enough and that I was capable. The day after a 10km DNF where I let the devil win when I knew my body was capable, I realised how strong I have become and ran my fastest 10km - on my own, in the dark. Find whatever it is that you need to tell yourself to make it happen. Maybe like me, it will take 9 years of running to figure it out, but when you do, it will be amazing.

10) Throw the watch away

When all your tricks fail, forget the goals, forget the pace, the distance, the splits, forget it all and just run. Remember the reason you started running, and the reasons you continued, the things you love about running, the people you run for. Hold them close to your heart and just run.

Perth City to Surf Half Marathon

With about 8 weeks to go before the Perth City to Surf, I decided to commit to the half marathon (21.1km or 13.1 miles) and up the training. My running buddy was training for the full marathon (42.2km or 26.2 miles) so slotting into her long runs was easy. I had worked up to about 30km a week since Blossom was born but had to up the ante a bit to make this a race rather than a run. I included a couple of speed sessions to the week and increased my long runs to bring the weekly total to around 45-50km.

Non-runners don't always understand that "racing" very rarely means "trying to win". It always means trying to achieve a goal, whatever that may be. I had run up until 38 weeks into my pregnancy and started again 3 weeks after Blossom's fairly straight-forward birth so my fitness wasn't that hard to pick back up. I knew I'd worked hard in the lead up to the race and I was in good enough form to break my PB of 1:45:48 from Darlington last year. I had hopes of going sub 1:40. I'd run a 1:43 in training and felt good. The only foreseeable hiccup was the terrain (and maybe the devil that invariably parks on my shoulder screaming doubtful messages during a big event). The Half Marathon of the Perth City to Surf begins uphill, then heads into the beautiful but elevated Kings Park. I hadn't trained on hills at all and didn't really know how to pace up or down the hills.

The race started a little late as we waited for road clearance from the marathon runners. It was drizzling but there was little wind and the temperature was cool. Perfect racing conditions. I was in the first start wave and as a group, we jogged from our marshaling area and surprisingly straight through the start line. That was it, it was on, straight up the first hill, then the next. I found myself becoming disillusioned with my pace uphill so flew down the downhills and was hurting early as a result. Seeing the pain in the faces of some of the marathon runners as we crossed paths (they had started 3 hours prior and some were still only half way through their journey) filled me with empathy. That was pain I would partly understand later in the race.

I'd foolishly written the 5km splits needed for a very ambitious goal time on my hand. When I was out by over a minute for the first, that devil spoke up. The rest of the race would be undulating. Both in terrain and in my mental state. I found another runner whose pace suited me and we stayed pretty close together for the entirety of the course. The hills hurt, my quads were killing me and I was having trouble maintaining the 4:40min/km pace I really wanted to be sitting on. I had a baby who would be ready for a feed waiting for me at the finish line, and I just wanted it to be over.

Somehow I made it to the 20km mark and managed to pick up the pace for the last km. As I headed towards the finish line, my running buddy (who had been waiting for an hour and a half because she finished the marathon in a phenomenal 3:11, and placed 6th female) was yelling "Go Pam!" I was glad someone was there to see me cross the line. Hubby had been busy negotiating public transport with Blossom and amongst the spectators for the 48,000+ competitors, had missed me finish. I stopped my watch at 1:40:55. My official time was 1:41:00. Most people didn't, and won't understand, but I was devastated beyond belief. I had just run a PB by 4 minutes, on a brutal course, 7 months after having a baby and in between breastfeeds, yet I was disappointed I hadn't run my goal time.

Upon reflection, I am proud of my result. I tried my hardest and ran a good time. The act of planning and training for a major event helped pull me out of a low patch, and mental health is the main reason I run, so for that I am grateful. I'm going to lay off racing for a while and enjoy just running for the rest of the year. I've got my sights set on a marathon in 2014, and I'm determined to get that sub 1:40 half that I so desperately wanted from the City to Surf some time soon. I accept that some weeks I won't be able to run as much as I like, and maybe I won't experience my running potential until the kids are a little older and I can put more hours in (but hopefully before my body decides it's a little older though!) but if I can run a marathon and have 3 proud little faces waiting at the finish line, then I'll be a winner.

In My Kitchen - September 2013

That's right folks, it's September, and my first "In My Kitchen" post since January. Actually only the second post since Blossom was born. I've been busy, very busy. In the few weeks after Blossom's birth we bought one and sold two houses, Chicky started school and I started running again. We moved into the "new" house (which is actually about 50 years old) in March and while I have been mostly working on rearing three little and very individual princesses, Hubby has been working on making the house our home. There is plenty of time to talk about that, as the renovations will likely go on for the next 25 years. Needless to say something had to give, and that was the blog. I'll ease myself back into things by telling you about what is in my new (read: old and manky) kitchen in September.

This is the oven that was in the house when we bought it. 

The only thing it's got going for it is the lid. It has a hinged lid that closes over the 5 (who needs 5??) burners. The kitchen is short on usable cupboards and bench space so I often use the top of the stove as my main prep area. Both stove and oven are gas, which is fine. I'd never used a gas oven before and had no idea what "gas marks" meant. Where I was looking for a temperature gauge I found the numbers 1 through 8 plus a star. The element is at the bottom of the enormous oven, and while it is fan-forced, heat circulation isn't even. I burned the bottom of everything for the first few weeks. Long and low seems to be required for even cooking. I much prefer quick so I'll be opting for a smaller electric oven when we do eventually re-do the kitchen. And while I do like a gas stove, the burners seem to have way too much gas coming through. There is no such thing as low, and simmering looks more like boiling. While I seem to be doing a lot of complaining, I am making do and it has helped me to figure out what I want out of a stove/oven.

In June a friend of mine asked me to make her 3 year old's birthday cake. This was an egg-free, dairy free cake for a child with allergies (recipe to come). I thought it was about time I bought a cake board as I have been wrapping my chopping board in birthday wrapping paper if ever I wanted to display a cake in the past. This pretty thing was only a few dollars at my local supermarket.

It had been a long time since I had done a chocolate order, and while I was making do with buying odd bits of decent quality chocolate at the supermarket when needed, I was running out of cocoa so it was time to replenish stocks. In my kitchen is a dangerous amount of Callebaut and Sicao chocolate.Well actually there is a little less than what is pictured as I got stuck into making some banana choc chip muffins, chocolate ice cream and choc chip cookies as soon as it arrived.

The online store I buy my chocolate from also had these cute chocolate transfer sheets on sale. I've never used a transfer sheet before but look forward to prettying up some chocolate soon.

My birthday was in June and instead of buying me a token gift, my mum asked me to buy something I wanted and she'd reimburse me. It took me a couple of months to decide what I really wanted but settled on a 30cm Cuisinart Saute Pan. I didn't actually know such a thing existed until I went shopping for a "deep frypan with a lid", only to be told I meant a saute pan. Sure, call it what you like, this puppy is awesome. I use it for pasta sauce, curry, stir-fry, anything really. I always make enough dinner for the 5 of us plus leftovers so this pan gets a workout most days. And it's so shiny! Thanks Mum!

The final part of my kitchen I will showcase this month is a gift from my local Maternal and Child Health Nurse. At Blossom's 3 month check-up she asked how we were doing and how everyone was adjusting to the new addition. I explained what a whirlwind the last few months had been and maybe she saw something I was trying to suppress, as she reached into her filing cabinet and handed me "Top Tips to Help You Reduce Stress". It lives on my pantry door and I consult it daily. I think we're doing ok.

There are a few more exciting things in my kitchen, but I'll save them for next time. Head over to Fig Jam and Lime Cordial to see what's going on in some other kitchens.

Ginger Shortbread People

I was up at 5am this morning to walk/run with a very patient friend who doesn't seem to mind that I can't run more than a couple of kms at a time at the moment and is happy to walk the rest with me, even if we are STILL getting swooped by magpies in December! Everyone else in the house was awake when I got home and once the breakfast thing was over I'd been up for so long it felt like it must be midday. It was 7:30. What do you do when you've done everything by 7:30am? Bake (while waiting for another friend to bring much needed coffee).

I have a basic shortbread recipe that you can add to, to spice it up a bit. I got this from a Super Food Ideas magazine a few Christmases ago. I used it to make Ginger Shortbread People.

Basic Shortbread
250g butter, softened
2/3 cup caster sugar (I use raw)
2 tsp vanilla extract (I use home made)
2 cups plain flour, sifted
1/2 cup rice flour, sifted

Additions to make it Ginger Shortbread
3 tsp ground ginger
2 tbsp golden syrup
1/4 cup rice flour

1. Beat butter, sugar and vanilla until light and fluffy.
2. If making ginger shortbread, add ginger and golden syrup, beat to combine.
3. Add flours and combine (including the extra 1/4 cup rice flour if making ginger shortbread).
4. Roll dough out between 2 sheets of baking paper until about 3mm thick. Refrigerate for 30 mins.
5. Preheat oven to 160C (140C fan forced). Line 2 baking trays with baking paper.
6. Cut out "people" shapes and and place on trays, being careful not to "snap" the dough as it is quite firm when cold. If decorating with M&Ms etc, do this now, otherwise shapes can be iced once cooked and cooled.
7. Bake for 8-10 mins or until just golden. Cool on trays for 5-10 mins then transfer to a wire rack.

Aside from the refrigeration time, these were really quite quick to knock up, and they have the added bonus of being egg-free for those with allergies. I halved the dough and put half in the freezer for another day, and still made about 15 small gingerbread people (of which I've eaten far too many today). The 4 little people that were here this morning all gave them the thumbs up, and it even kept my friend's little boy still and happy long enough for me to cut his hair! 

Tales from a pregnant runner: When running becomes walking

A couple of weeks ago, Hubby went away for a 9-day boy-holiday and the girls and I stayed home for some quality oestrogen-filled, female time. This was fine except it meant I didn't really have the opportunity to run, and conversation was limited to sub-5-year-old topics most of the time. My ever-faithful running buddy Kat came to my rescue one afternoon and we took it in turns pushing the running pram over 5km (with a playground stop in the middle to appease the beasts). My bike, the trainer, some mediocre evening TV and myself got particularly well acquainted several times, and some new knicks made this a little bit interesting. I managed to hit the pool once and the girls and I also did quite a bit of walking. But it's just not running.

Hubby got back on Monday night, so on Tuesday I escaped for a little "me time". I headed out for 4kms, with a mid-way break to drink and stretch. I think bubs must be engaging because things felt quite different. I was cramping a little more than usual, my pelvis felt like it was being pulled apart, and when I got home I had to check that my cervix wasn't actually between my knees like I suspected. Mentally it was great to get out there but physically it was difficult. I had my suspicions that might be my last run, at 30 weeks.

Wednesday I decided to rest (read: casual 4km walk at Chicky's cycling pace while pushing Poppet in the pram). Thursday night I went to step, and had the best class I've had in weeks. Full of energy, no niggles, none of that pelvis-pulling-apart feeling of Tuesday and no cramps. Friday I cycled and again felt good so thought I'd try my luck at a run/walk combo on Saturday morning. I began running (slowly, 6:10ish pace) and felt ok for a while, but by 500m I thought I'd only make 1km then walk for a bit. By 800m I was cramping so stopped. I thought I'd see how I was feeling after a km of walking and maybe run for bit more, but walking just felt so much better. I was power walking, not just strolling (the whole arm swinging thing and everything), and I began to monitor my pace (because who really knows how fast they walk). I was hovering around 9min/kms, which for a runner sounds PAINFULLY slow, but it was enough to keep a moderate heart rate and slightly laboured breathing. I managed to keep my pace sub 9min/kms and finished 6km total in about 52 mins. So, the new goal: sub 9min/kms while walking, 2 x 6km walks a week (plus step, swimming and cycling until any of those become too uncomfortable). I was a little sad to think I may not run again until after bubs is born, but at 31 weeks pregnant I'm ok with where I'm at. Who knows, maybe on a good day I'll be able to throw a km of running into one of my walks, but if not then I'll get back to it on the flip side.

This morning I was proud to cheer on my best friend in her longest run to date - a 7.5km race. While I couldn't run with her, I could be there for her, and be the super proud friend, camera in hand, as she crossed the finish line under her goal time.

Tales from a pregnant runner: Episode 2

Last time I posted about running, I was just getting back into it. Now, two months on, I can call myself a pregnant runner, hitting the footpath 2-3 times a week to tally between 10 and 20kms. The bump is more than obvious now, and I get more than the occasional double-take while strutting my stuff, but overall the public's reaction is positive. I even "competed" in a 5km event on the weekend, and other than a few surprised glances, I disappeared into the pack nicely. I entered the event with my best friend who has just started running. This was her first event, and the furthest she had ever run, and I was so proud to help her achieve that.

When I started running again, I found things a little uncomfortable. The pelvic instability was unnerving and the constant bladder pressure off-putting. I was also getting a bit of lower back pain after even a short run. After a bit of research, and discussion with a fellow runner who ran until she was full term, I purchased a Gabrialla abdominal support belt. This has made the world of difference. I haven't experienced any lower back pain since using it, and it makes everything feel a whole lot more stable. I wear it to run, for step aerobics, and even for grocery shopping if I know I'm going to be pushing a heavy trolley full of shopping and children. Thank goodness they come in black, so you can't even see it on top of my running shorts. I can't recommend enough, some sort of abdominal and lower back support garment for anyone thinking of running through their pregnancy.

So I was feeling good running again, even getting in up to 10km at a time, but I still had a niggle in the back of my head asking if I should be doing this. My obstetrician is supportive but certainly not an expert in the area of maternal fitness, so I decided to do a bit of my own research. If a science background has taught me one thing, it's to be educated. I came across the name James Clapp who is a professor of obstetrics and gynaecology and an international expert on the effects of exercise during pregnancy. His latest book, Exercising Through Your Pregnancy, covers the most recent research on the effects of not just exercise, but training, on the mother and child. It provides answers to most of my questions and has reassured me that given I have a low risk pregnancy and am otherwise fit and healthy, regular exercise is a good thing. In the past, pregnant women were urged to exercise within specific heart rate ranges, but if running has taught me anything it's that heart rates vary hugely between athletes. Clapp's book appreciates this and suggests perceived exersion as a better determinant of exercising safely.

Another book I purchased was the Runner's World Guide to Running & Pregnancy. This provides month by month recommendations and advice for someone who was running regularly before pregnancy and wishes to continue to run.

So at 25 weeks I'm not sure how much longer I'll run for. I'm taking it one run at a time. Sometimes I have a shocking 3km run and end up walking home. Other times I can run 8-10kms comfortably. All I can do is listen to my body and follow the advice I have found and am given. I hope I can still run into the third trimester, but I'm not going to be devastated if I no longer feel comfortable. I'll take up another swim or stationary cycling session in place of a dropped run. I have to work off all the chocolate and jelly beans somehow!

Back to Basics

I've started running again. It's weird, very different but oh so therapeutic.

I stopped running when I was 6 weeks pregnant and contracted giardia, which rendered me weak, tired and void of enthusiasm. Given the complications of morning sickness and the fact that we were travelling the country, the giardia went undiagnosed until we got home 4 weeks later. I then had to wait until I was in the second trimester to take antibiotics for it, so after 6 weeks of gastro-like symptoms I had lost a lot of weight, almost all muscle mass and all my stamina. All the efforts I'd made to ensure I was in tip-top shape pre-pregnancy were moot. Perhaps being in prime physical condition helped the recovery, but it certainly felt like I was left with nothing.

So at 13 weeks pregnant, with the visitors evicted from my digestive tract and breakfast only occasionally revisiting, I began the journey to regain some of the muscle and stamina that I'd lost. At first I could walk little more than a kilometer to the local supermarket without having to nap when I got home. I slowly built this up to a 4km walk and had started cycling regularly on an indoor trainer (both my arms and legs looked like the arms of a Schleck brother!) when our household got hit with a nasty head cold. We somehow managed to back this up with the flu. Now at almost 17 weeks I am finally getting back into some regular exercise. I'm back at step aerobics (which I did up to 28 weeks when I was pregnant with Poppet), I started swimming again this week (oh my lord my shoulders hate me), I'm cycling on the trainer a couple of times a week and this weekend I started running again. Re-reading that sentence, it sounds like an awful lot for a preggo to take on, but compared to pre-pregnancy where I was running 50kms each week plus aerobics, plus swimming, plus cycling, I really am "taking it easy", I promise.

So pregnant Pam runs quite differently to pre-pregnant Pam. If you've been pregnant, you'll know that some of the hormones involved in nurturing your bundle of joy (primarily relaxin), cause your ligaments to loosen. The biggest offenders are the ligaments of the sacro-illiac joint in your pelvis. This has to happen, otherwise the thing the size of a watermelon won't fit out the exit the size of a golf ball, it's not rocket science. To an athlete, "loose ligaments" sounds like an injury, and this is one reason why you should be careful exercising during pregnancy. Pushing those relaxed ligaments too far will result in injury, so pregnancy is not the time to push your body to its limits. Being sick and effectively starting from scratch has helped me here. Running like a granny isn't such a bad thing for bubs and I!

So my leisurely 6km jog this afternoon consisted of a 200m walk break half way through (mostly to have a drink and to give my heart rate a chance to recover - too much blood moving away from the uterus for too long isn't good for bubs, so little breaks are great for us both). Can you tell I studied reproductive biology at uni? Education is great, but maybe if I were more ignorant I'd be sitting in a beanbag, watching Oprah with a donut in one hand and a coke in the other. I like to think my baby and my body will thank me for being an active mumma, and maybe I still ate the donut when I got back from my run.

Where was I? A mid-way break for recovery. The break also provided an opportunity pee-stop. The kid is the size of an avocado and my bladder is already compromised! I could feel my pelvis moving while I ran which was a little unnerving, but completely normal. I could also feel the milk jugs shudder with each step. Don't get me wrong, I have a good sports bra, but the puppies have just realised that we're pregnant and have shot up from non-quite-an-A-cup to something more like you might see on a Canberra-bought video. Keep in mind they were feeding Poppet up until a couple of months ago, so I'm not sure why they seem so shocked by all this, but needless to say it adds another interesting element to running.

I can see how all these changes might put even a runner off running during pregnancy, but the endorphins that were bouncing through my body this afternoon made me ignore the pain in my hip flexors and start planning the next run. I doubt I'll run much more than 6kms at a time until the wee-un is out, and pace is something set by my body and not my watch, but being active again is what's important, not just for me physically, but for my mental state. I was sick for a while, but now I'm not sick, I'm just pregnant, and while my doctor is happy and I'm happy, that's not going to stop me from being me.

Big Gypsy Getaway

This post, and all posts for the next 11 or so weeks, come to you from the Big Gypsy Getaway. On Monday 30th April hubby started 12 weeks of long service leave, so we left our cosy 4 x 2 in the 'burbs and headed off for a family adventure in our home-made (and I mean completely home-made) camper trailer. Those that know my hubby will understand this. He doesn't "do" hired help, and could not justify spending ridiculous amounts of hard earned cash on a sub-optimal prefabricated camper. So what does one do in this situation? The same thing my beloved does in almost every situation, make your own! I have to give credit where it is due; it may have taken 15 months of evenings and weekends, but this baby is a work of art. It is completely tailored to our needs and the workmanship is flawless. We now realise why the commercial versions cost so much, there is so much labour involved. Here is our home on wheels fully set up, with our trusty NH Pajero, on her first night in the bush; just north of Lancelin, WA.

I should mention that the trailer has an off-road chassis, so there aren't too many challenges it isn't fit to face. In the pic below, the trailer is attached to the car, and isn't stuck or is any kind of danger, it's just "bush bashing". :)

 Those that know me, know I'm no fancy girl, but there were a few things I demanded for our new home on wheels. A decent kitchen was one. We are camping, but I didn't want this to change our eating habits. It's important to me that we continue to eat a wide range of foods, and continue with a balanced, healthy diet. The prospect of cooking on a 2-burner stove for three months was less than appealing. I researched camp ovens, and while I'm sure you can get quite adept at cooking on one, we wouldn't be able to have an open fire everywhere we stopped, and with the girls running around the thought of having a fire and piping hot container at ground level was a little scary. And then I found this!

It's a Companion Portable Gas Oven and Cooktop. I didn't even know such a thing existed until I saw a similar unit in our local camping store. It was love at first sight. I had to have one. With both the girls and myself having birthdays while we're on the road, I couldn't not make cakes. It had its first test run today with roast veges which we had with pork medallions and boiled broccoli (I forgot to bring a steamer) for dinner. And I've just pulled a batch of Breakfast Muffins out, sans cinnamon because hey, I couldn't remember to pack everything. Temperature regulation is something that will take a while to get a handle on I think. The built-in thermometer seems to be the back of the oven, and I bought an oven thermometer which you can see hanging inside the door at the front. The two units read quite different temperatures (up to 100C at one point this afternoon!) so I'm cooking by intuition at the moment. It's looking very promising though.

WA has a spectacular coastline, and I am extremely lucky to be viewing most of it this month. I've always lived in Perth, but in 4 days I've already seen multiple stretches of coast that I've never seen before. I went for a very liberating barefoot beach run around Lucky Bay yesterday morning, and today we spent lots of the day riding around Kalbarri (with 4 flat tyres thrown in for spice). The photo above was taken at a place called Pot Alley, which we hurtled down a huge hill on our bikes to see. Fortunately the magnificent view was worth the return trip up the hill. Kalbarri is lovely, although the persistent mosquitoes have taken the shine off a little. Not much, just a little. I have plans for a lot more running and a little on-the-go herb garden. I also have lots of interesting camping accessories in my kitchen that I'll showcase in the next In My Kitchen post in the next few days, I promise. 

Best Ever Caramel Slice

Ok, so that's a big call, but one I think is well deserved. Since finding this recipe, it is the only caramel slice I will make. The flavour is rich, the caramel is thick, the base crunchy and I really could eat this until I vomit. My complete lack of self control means I come close, everytime I allow this beautifully indulgent treat to make it into my kitchen.

So where does one find a recipe for the Best Ever Caramel Slice? On the back of a Nestle Plaistowe Premium Milk cooking chocolate packet. I love giving "back-of-a-packet" recipes a go. Well, I love giving any recipe a go but there's an element of excitement involved when you're creating the dish that sold you the product right? Ok, maybe I am the only one who gets kicks out of that, but if you give this one a go I'm sure you'll be singing its praise.

Base
3/4 cup plain flour
1/4 cup cocoa (I used Dutched)
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup dessicated coconut
125g butter, melted
Filling
395g can sweetened condensed milk (I used the skimmed version)
2 tbsp golden syrup
60g butter
Topping
200g milk chocolate (that's where the packet comes in, but now I have the recipe I normally use Callebaut 34%)

1. Preheat oven to 180C. Line a slice pan (the recipe specified 26cm x 16cm but I only have a 20cm x 20cm).
2. Combine sifted flour, sifted cocoa, sugar, coconut and melted butter in a mixing bowl. When combined, press into the base of the pan. Bake for 15 mins or until lightly browned.
3. Combine filling ingredients in a saucepan and stir over medium heat for 10 minutes or until butter has melted and caramel is smooth. Pour over base and return to oven for 10-12 minutes. Watch it to make sure the caramel doesn't burn. Refrigerate 3-4hrs (I've gotten away with 2hrs before).
4. Melt chocolate in a heatproof bowl over a saucepan of simmering water, being sure not to let the bowl touch the water. (The original recipe combined 50g melted Copha to the chocolate. It makes the slice easier to cut as the chocolate doesn't set so hard, but I detest Copha and never use it. You could add a dash of vegetable oil for similar effect, but I just deal with hard chocolate, or heat a knife for cutting.) Refrigerate 1 hr or until set. Cut into squares.

You can see from the pictures what happens when the Copha is omitted: the cold chocolate cracks when you cut it. For me, that's a small price to pay, and I have never had anyone complain their chocolate was cracked. It's not show-worthy, but it's pretty damn good.

The only reason I could justify making this, is that I'm running 28kms in the morning, taking this week's total to around 55kms. Still not enough to burn off the whole slice, but enough to allow me a couple of pieces. This slice is divine, but it is evil, and is best made for sharing. Even better is if you can take it somewhere (birthday or a morning tea for example), have a piece or two yourself, then leave the rest there!

One week - two races

Running post alert!

With the gypsy lifestyle fast approaching (more on that matter another time), I have been getting in as much running and racing as I can before we leave civilisation as we know it. Last week was a busy one with two races 6 days apart.


Monday 9th April was the Mt Helena 40 Miler and Relay. Forty miles is 64km, and this off-road race is run on a heritage trail that used to be train line, beginning about 35km east of Perth. I half joked to my running buddy a few months ago that we could do this in a team of two, so 32km each. Neither of us had run that distance before, but the jokes got a little more serious and we eventually agreed to register. About a week before the race my partner injured her leg and was unable to run. I was disappointed at not being able to do this race, but not as disappointed as she was at not being able to run at all. Some more half joking took place with an old friend who also runs, and after a bit of deliberation he agreed to run with me! So off we trekked at 5am through thick fog to the Mt Helena Tavern - the start and finish point to the race.

To ease the pain of 32km, we broke the race up into relay legs, each running a 14km and two 9km legs. My friend started with the first 14km, which he ran in excellent time. My first leg was a very shallow uphill 9km. It was still early and the sun wasn't too hot, so I went out pretty hard. Maybe a little too hard for what was still ahead of me, finishing the 9kms with a 4:50min/km average. I felt great, like I could run another 23km (phew!). I got in the car, drove to the next transition point and waited. My next leg was 14kms, a slight downhill out and a slight uphill back. Downhill was good and I ran fast, but things were certainly heating up. The forecast was 31C and it was getting up there. The uphill return was painful. I slowed right down and began to question how I would make it through the last leg, but told myself "just one more to go" and made it to the top of the hill, handed over our relay wrist band and sucked some electrolyte life back into me.

By this point Hubby and the munchkins had arrived to cheer us on. The babes played "running races" in the bush and hunted for bugs while I got ready for my last 9km. It was now after 11 and the sun was very high and getting hot. We drove to the start point and waited. I knew this leg would be the slowest. We were hot and tiring, but just wanted to finish! My friend arrived and I took off. My legs made it known that they were tired, but off they went until they found a rhythm, albeit a slower one that the first 9km. This leg was a mental challenge more than a physical one. My injured running buddy recently shared a quote she found in a running book: "your mind is weaker than your body". This is definitely true. It was my mind that made my legs stop running with 3km to go. Thanks goodness my mind also realised that was a silly mistake and 10 or so seconds and a good mouthful of water later, I started running again. I even managed to pick up the pace a little in the last km, and we finished a 64km race in 5hrs 24mins. That put out average pace at just over 5min/kms and we both ran at almost the exact same pace overall! I can't thank my friend enough for agreeing to run with me. It was one of my biggest running achievements so far.


So.......over the course of the week it became clear that my injured running buddy wouldn't be ready to do the 10km run of the inaugural Shoalwater Classic Olympic Distance triathlon on 15th April, that she had entered with two of her friends. Although not quite as fast as her, I took her place. I have been a club member for the organising club for the last 2 years, so running with (or against) my friends would be fun. Ten km may sound like a long way, but it's the kind of distance that you have to run really fast to be competitive. I find running fast very satisfying, but not very enjoyable. I hadn't run a 10km race since November, and I've come a long way since then so really wanted to give it a good shot. I thought I might be able to run sub 45mins (or 4:30min/km pace). The morning was perfect, the course was familiar (I run it several times a week) and the atmosphere at the race was great. It was really exciting. Our swimmer and rider both did great, and then it was my turn. I started off really strong. That first km was fast, and I was a little worried it was too fast to sustain. Of course it was, but it had given me a good start toward that 45 min goal. The course ran 2 5km laps, and by the end of the first I was hot and starting to doubt if I could finish strong (that evil mind again). My splits were all over the place but by about the 7km mark I tried to pick it up and keep it there. It turned out someone had moved the turn around cone sometime between setup and the start of the race, so the total distance fell a bit short of the 10kms, but I managed to run an average pace of 4:27min/km and ran the 5th fastest female time. Woohoo! Keep in mind some of the phenomenal athletes that ran faster than me had also just completed a 1.5km swim and a 40km bike ride (which I had not), so while I was super proud of my time there were some pretty spectacular people out there. It wasn't fun, it hurt physically and mentally, but I'd run the fastest (almost) 10km I'd ever run. Crossing the line with lots of familiar faces and familiar voices cheering was so uplifting. It definitely made the pain worth it, and I hope I did my running buddy proud.

Where to from here? The Perth 32km, the last race before life as I know it changes for a while. I'm still undecided whether to run the 32km distance or try to get that sub 45min 10km, another distance option for the same race. I'm sure whichever I choose, it'll be a great last race for a while, and I might even treat myself to a massage once it's done.

Comfort Food

After a busy weekend down south including a triathlon and our first camping trip in the home-made camper trailer, I was in the mood for something with a high satisfaction to preparation time ratio. Something where I could put in little effort but reap tasty benefits. The solution: pizza and crumble, two of my "comfort foods".

Pizzas are a dinner that hubby loves, the girls will eat, and are almost as quick to prep as a salad. I always use some sort of wrap or flat bread as a base. We love our bases thin and crispy, and while I've made my own before, we still prefer a simple wholemeal wrap. Toppings vary depending on what is in the fridge at the time. Sometimes I use home-made pasta sauce, tomato paste or BBQ sauce. Yesterday I tried a shop bought pizza sauce which was basically tomato paste with herbs mixed through. It wasn't anything phenomenal but it was still nice. Chicky is fussy when it comes to toppings. Last night her pizza was topped with mozzarella cheese, halved cherry tomatoes, capsicum and green olives. The rest of us also had field mushroom, pepperoni and baby spinach. I managed to grab a photo before they went into the oven, but you've got to move quick around food in this house, and as soon as they were cooked they were being eaten, so unfortunately I didn't get a "finished" photo.


Dessert was apple and rhubarb crumble. I put this in the oven then went to the gym. When I came home half of it was gone, and the rest was in no way photogenic, so the "before" shot of the rhubarb will have to do.


This is my favourite crumble recipe. It's loosely based on a recipe from The Australian Women's Weekly Cookbooks: Cooking Class Basic. It's not terribly evil so I don't feel like I'm completely ruining a week of exercise by eating it.

4 stalks rhubarb, cut into 2cm pieces (from the garden)
2 apples peeled and sliced thinly
1 tbsp raw sugar
1/4 cup rolled oats
1 tbsp dessicated coconut
1/3 cup wholemeal plain flour
1/4 tsp cinnamon
40g butter, chopped
1/4 cup packed brown sugar

1. Place rhubarb, apple and raw sugar in a saucepan. Stir over low heat until sugar starts to dissolve. When sugar has dissolved, cover and simmer until fruit has stewed and rhubarb is soft.
2. Combine butter, coconut, flour, cinnamon and brown sugar in a bowl and rub between your fingertips until the mixture is coarse and crumbly. Mix oats through.
3. Place stewed fruit in a baking dish and top with crumble mixture. Bake at 180C for about 30mins or until the crumble is golden brown.
   

I love crumble served hot with vanilla icecream, but it's also very yummy drowned in custard. I also vary the fruit that I use. Apple and raspberry is another great combination. You can even use tinned baking apples and frozen berries to cut down on the prep even more.

Darlington Half Marathon 2012

Warning: this is a running post, if you don't run (or even if you do), you may find it terribly boring. Sorry!

Sunday 11th March 2012 was the Darlington Half Marathon, hosted by the Western Australian Marathon Club. This is a race that I've been preparing for, for the last couple of months. It was my 3rd half marathon and definitely the toughest course so far, both mentally and physically.

The course starts in Darlington, about 20km east of Perth, which according to Wikipedia "is located upon the escarpment of the Darling Fault... defining what is known as the Perth Hills". This information alone should give away the fact that the course is hilly. I'd only done a little hill training so was quietly apprehensive about how my legs would handle the "undulations" (a polite word in the riding/running world for hills!). The image below shows the elevation from my GPS watch. The field was bigger than I'd expected, 333 in the 21.1km race and 82 running the 8km option, surprising for a day with a forecasted top of 39C. Thankfully the race started at 7am, before things heated up too much.

After 333 runners crammed onto a single track, the first 3kms or so followed the Railway Reserves Heritage Trail which is largely gravel. I quite enjoy trail running, so this was a nice start for me. It was a good opportunity for me to tap into the 5min/kms that I needed to run a PB. We veered back onto the road and up the first decent climb of the course, and what a beauty it was. Not long, but steep, and it certainly separated the men from the boys, or in this case the runners from the walkers. I found a seasoned Darlington runner to pace myself against early in the run and he had told me the hill was a doozie and to step it back a gear. I followed his advice a little, but I always find running on my toes and powering up short inclines the best recipe for me. Maybe it's to do with my physique, but if I knock it back too much I'll come to a stand still!

I tried to make up some time on the way down this hill as I knew we had little other than climb ahead until the 11km turn around. It was clear that while I thought I had made it up the hill ok, my quads disagreed. I was just about to hit my first mental hurdle (why am I doing this??) when my pacer - who I'd left behind up the hill - found me again and spurred me not to slow down. I once again found that 5min/km pace and held it until we started the slow, steady climb to the turn around. I had no choice but to slow down up the hill. The 7th, 8th and 9th kms were the hardest 3kms I've ever run. I was beginning to question whether I'd even finish the race, and threw all hopes of a PB out the window. My immediate goal was just to keep running. I'd take whatever time the course was going to throw at me, but under no circumstances would I walk. I found myself likening the experience to childbirth, questioning my registration for upcoming events, even vowing never to run again, if only I could finish this race! It didn't help that there was no drink station between about 3 and 8kms. It was hot, running uphill, into the sun and with no water. It's amazing what a mouthful of water can do to your efficiency and state of mind when it finally did come. And then finally, the turn around point, it was downhill all the way home (well, not quite, but compared to the first half it would feel that way).

I checked my time, I'd lost a lot getting up that climb. It was ok, I didn't need a PB, I needed to finish in a respectable time (notice the mental state improving already as we headed downhill). I managed to pick up the pace a little; 4:50min/km, 4:45min/km, I was back! I was still feeling terrible, and as the sun was getting higher, the temperature was rising, but I started calculating what time I might finish with. A sub 1:50:00 was looking possible. I didn't have much left, but I was going to get home as fast as I could. A slight uphill at the 18km point set me back a little but once I was back on the Heritage Trail I knew I was nearly there. The last 2kms were the fastest of the course. I was comfortable on gravel and started to think I could come close to my previous PB of 1:46:55. I stopped looking at my watch and just ran. I came around the corner towards the finish line and saw my training partner (who had finished in an amazing 1:35:43!) yelling "Go under 1:46!". I looked up at the clock and with about 15 seconds to spare I sprinted to the finish line and crossed at 1:45:48. The course had knocked me around, physically and mentally, but somehow I managed a PB!

The WAMC put on a great breakfast after the event, but it was all I could do not to throw up so didn't eat a bite. I was so glad it was over and really just wanted to get home to tell my family about it. I could barely walk the next day, which was satisfying as it meant I'd worked hard, but it took me until Wednesday before I could run again. My muscles had healed but I just didn't want to. I was still a little reluctant by Friday and was beginning to think the race had scarred me. Luckily though, I think it was just a post-race slump. This week I want to run again, and I'm starting to get excited about the events I wanted to pull out of mid-race during the Darlington Half. Bring on the Perth 32km!

10km PB!

This is just a quick post. I have a few kitcheny posts in the making, but I had to brag about my 10km Personal Best this morning. Prior to today, the fastest I had run a 10km was 49:50, and I have been struggling to get under 50mins lately. This morning though, the stars aligned. The massive, orange setting moon was amazing at 5:45am and must have put me in a good mood. Sometimes I wish I could take my camera running because it was a spectacular sight. I felt great, set out strong, and brought it home in 46:26, just before the sun started to pop over the houses. It probably wasn't the wisest idea going out so hard with a half marathon this weekend, but I've been chasing a good time for months and wasn't going to let it escape me. Brag over.

All Day Breakfast Muffins

With a few big races approaching, I've really been ramping up the training. I'm now running about 40+kms a week so thought I should start paying a little more attention to nutrition to see if I can crack a few PBs in the upcoming weeks. We normally eat well as a family, but I'm definitely guilty of hiding behind a cupboard door and scoffing some chocolate when the kids (and hubby) aren't looking. So I've been giving a few nutritional snack recipes a try, with lots of success.

I really enjoyed the Raw Chocolate Brownie that I made last week so decided to consult Teresa Cutter again. Breakfast is fairly uninspirational for me. Poppet demands "toast!" daily, and Chicky may or may not want to add some sort of cereal, so I thought I'd try something a bit different, a bit fun and a lot healthy that we might all enjoy - breakfast muffins. Teresa Cutter calls these ones Muesli Muffins. This recipe calls for wholemeal spelt flour which I've never baked with before. Spelt is a cereal grain that has fewer calories and more protein than wheat flour. I'm certain you could use wholemeal wheat flour in its place with little taste or texture change. My local green grocer stocks a comprehensive range of natural, raw, organic and just unusual ingredients so of course he had spelt flour, along with some other interesting things I picked up for future baking adventures.


I made a couple of small changes to the original recipe. We don't like raisins much here, so I used currants instead, and replaced the ground flackseed with linseed, soy and almond (LSA) mix. I also used my Easiyo-made natural yoghurt. The result was really tasty and even hubby and the girls liked them! It was a lovely change from toast with vegemite, and I think I'll be adding this one to the "regulars" list. Like the title suggests, these gems should not just be saved for breakfast, but make a great, healthy, filling snack for whenever the munchies hit.

A Sunday in the Bush

With a half marathon in the foothills coming up next month, and a 40 mile trail relay in April, it was time to hit the hills for a bit of training. Hubby towed the kids in the bike trailer and rode along side on his mountain bike while I ran 14km up (and thankfully down) some beautiful but painful hills around Dwellingup. I definitely had the edge over the bike on the uphill but couldn't compete coming down. With a maximum recorded heart rate of 229bpm I'd say I was being worked pretty hard. Apologies for the dash reflection in the picture. It was taken through the windscreen while we were driving.

We made sure it wasn't all work and no play however. It's blackberry season, and while the thorns are a real pain while trying to navigate the trails, the fruit is lovely and unsprayed where we were, so we stopped to pick some for the girls. We were entertained by emus, running along the tracks, and had a very close encounter with one. They are quite hilarious to watch at speed, standing so tall and proud, and ridiculously light on their feet. I wish I'd had my camera with me. Post run/ride we cooled off with a swim in the Murray River. What a charmed life my girls live.

While in Dwellingup we decided to pick up a few more chickens for the yard. Our 3 Isa Browns have been declining in egg production lately. It has been very hot, so they may pick up again with cooler weather, but we thought it was a good time to expand the family, with something a little different. The new additions are Cochin chicks. The larger two are 5 weeks old, one is 4 weeks old and the baby is just 2 weeks old.


The baby is just gorgeous, and getting Poppet to put it down is proving to be a challenge. She has claimed it as her own.


The Cochins are paler in colour to the Isa Brown, apparently much more placid and quiet, and their cute fluffy faces really make the hens look like Angry Birds.














The only downside to cute fluffy chicks, is that their genders are unknown. We're hoping for females because 1) we would love some more eggs, and 2) we can't keep roosters where we live. Here's hoping!

Just another Saturday

Yesterday afternoon we packed the car and the kids and set off on a 2 hour drive to Busselton. For those of you who aren't familiar, it's a coastal town in the South West of WA, about 220km south of Perth. The reason? The Busselton Half Marathon. I'd run one half marathon before today, in 2 hours 1 minute. I was determined to slice that minute and a little more off this time, and thanks to a very speedy training buddy I was well prepped this morning. Needless to say I was very excited with a new PB of 1:46:59.

Post race, we packed the kids back into the car and came home. So what do you do on a Saturday afternoon after just running 21.1km? Basically the same thing I do every Saturday afternoon. Prepare dinner and bake a tasty treat (in amongst tending to the needs of Chicky (3) and Poppet (21 months)). Our tasty treat for today was Tiger Cake. I got the recipe for this one from here, at Fig Jam and Lime Cordial. I had initial doubts as I tend to stay away from cake recipes using olive oil, particularly a whole cup! But it looked so pretty, and Chicky was very excited at the idea of something called "Tiger" that we had to give it a go.


As anticipated, there was a LOT of batter, so I made a grown-up cake and a kiddie cake, adding more of the chocolate mix to the grown-up version. As a result, our swirls weren't particularly tiger-like but made for an interesting cake non the less. I have to admit that I can taste the olive oil a little too much for my liking, but warmed up with some vanilla icecream it is lovely. In fact I think I'll sit down with just this combination right now and rest my weary legs.