I have my running schedule posted at work by my desk as well as in the kitchen by the back door.
When I put them up, I think the point was to inspire and motivate me but sometimes looking at them just makes me feel tired.
Every time I finish another week, I put a checkmark on the schedule.
Seven checkmarks so far...
...eleven more to go.
Most of the time, I try to take it one run at a time. It's easier that way because, if you stand back far enough to see the proverbial forest for the trees, it's a really freakin' big forest. Full of wolves and badgers and other scary things lurking in the shadows. So I find it best to just deal with one run (or tree if you prefer) at a time.
I sat at the kitchen counter the other day and asked Doug what the hardest part of training for a marathon was. "Do you mean the hardest run?" he asked. No, I mean that point in which is just feels hardest. Is now the hardest part? When we're pretty far into the training and feeling kinda tired and yet we're not even half way there yet?
Is the week with the most mileage the hardest simply because it's the most physically demanding?
Is the week before the race the hardest because it's close enough to touch and very scary?
Doug said that, for him, tapering is the hardest. You've done the long runs and now, as things slow down, you have a few weeks to worry and wonder whether you're strong enough to do what you need to do on race day.
Interesting.
I am not one for making predictions but I have a feeling that I'm entering the hardest part right now... for me anyway. I have that same feeling I get when we have to do an out and back long run and those last few kilometres before the turn around point seem interminable. That's what it feels like right now. I just want to get over that hump and be able to count down the weeks until the race rather than counting up.
So physically, the hardest may be yet to come but psychologically it feels like I might be there now.
Which is ok really because it's not like I'm feeling depressed or overwhelmed about what I have left to do. I'm just trotting along, doing what I need to do, until I get to turn around.
Once I turn around I'll be able to see the finish line far off in the distance. And that will give me something to run for.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
Lesson #244
Over the past seven weeks, the phrase that keeps repeating itself both in my head and in my blog is "lesson learned".
It's a little humbling how much I have yet to learn about this whole long distance running thing. As my running friend Darlene said the other day - a marathon is much more than just twice the distance of a half marathon. And so, every week (every run) I learn something new.
About myself.
About my body.
About what it's going to take to drag my ass over that finish line.
The latest lesson has to do with the importance of recovery days. We are told over and over again by Benny that we need to do a 30 minute recovery run on Wednesdays and Sundays. We can replace one of those with a bike ride if we prefer.
I have been dutifully doing my Wednesday runs and my Sunday bike rides. Every week - no matter what.
I figured he knew what he was talking about and so I would do what I was told.
This weekend - I ran 26k on Saturday. It went really well. After my typical 5k warmup where my body throws everything it can at me to make me stop (nausea, aches and pains etc etc) - it gave up and settled in for the long haul. The 5k to 22k stretch went surprisingly well and, while I was pretty tired during the last four, my body still had enough strength to carry me through. I felt pretty proud of that run.
Afterwards, I hydrated, stretched for an hour, took an ice bath (by the way, is it normal to climb into a freezing cold bathtub full of ice, melt the ice and bring the water up to a comfy temp within about five minutes??) and ate well. I bounded around for the rest of the day with no aches or pains to speak of. Yay.
Sunday there was a duathlon in Grimbsy that Doug was doing. I wanted to be there to cheer and take pictures so I skipped my Sunday morning bike ride (gasp!). I toyed with the idea of cycling at the crack of dawn but decided to sleep in instead. I've been doing so well, what difference would one missed ride really make?
The race was great and Doug did a fabulous job.
I, on the other hand, was slowly falling apart. As the morning wore on, my calves were getting tighter and tighter - making it hard to walk. I went to find Geoff who (lucky me) was at the race working his chiropractic magic. He did what he could but I was still having trouble. My hips were tight, my quads were tight. By the time we got home, going up and down stairs was getting awkward.
Apparently, those Sunday morning bike rides have been having a greater impact than I even realized.
Lesson #244 learned.
It's a little humbling how much I have yet to learn about this whole long distance running thing. As my running friend Darlene said the other day - a marathon is much more than just twice the distance of a half marathon. And so, every week (every run) I learn something new.
About myself.
About my body.
About what it's going to take to drag my ass over that finish line.
The latest lesson has to do with the importance of recovery days. We are told over and over again by Benny that we need to do a 30 minute recovery run on Wednesdays and Sundays. We can replace one of those with a bike ride if we prefer.
I have been dutifully doing my Wednesday runs and my Sunday bike rides. Every week - no matter what.
I figured he knew what he was talking about and so I would do what I was told.
This weekend - I ran 26k on Saturday. It went really well. After my typical 5k warmup where my body throws everything it can at me to make me stop (nausea, aches and pains etc etc) - it gave up and settled in for the long haul. The 5k to 22k stretch went surprisingly well and, while I was pretty tired during the last four, my body still had enough strength to carry me through. I felt pretty proud of that run.
Afterwards, I hydrated, stretched for an hour, took an ice bath (by the way, is it normal to climb into a freezing cold bathtub full of ice, melt the ice and bring the water up to a comfy temp within about five minutes??) and ate well. I bounded around for the rest of the day with no aches or pains to speak of. Yay.
Sunday there was a duathlon in Grimbsy that Doug was doing. I wanted to be there to cheer and take pictures so I skipped my Sunday morning bike ride (gasp!). I toyed with the idea of cycling at the crack of dawn but decided to sleep in instead. I've been doing so well, what difference would one missed ride really make?
The race was great and Doug did a fabulous job.
I, on the other hand, was slowly falling apart. As the morning wore on, my calves were getting tighter and tighter - making it hard to walk. I went to find Geoff who (lucky me) was at the race working his chiropractic magic. He did what he could but I was still having trouble. My hips were tight, my quads were tight. By the time we got home, going up and down stairs was getting awkward.
Apparently, those Sunday morning bike rides have been having a greater impact than I even realized.
Lesson #244 learned.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Two Steps Closer
Every Saturday we do our long run.
On week one of our training program, we had to run 16k. Week two was 18k. We add two kilometers each week (except on easy weeks when we only run 10k) and are building up to 35k.
The actual distance of a marathon is 42.2k. You'd be surprised how many people ask me how long the marathon is that I'm running. I guess they figure marathon means race so I'm just running a race of some arbitrary distance. Nope - 42.2k (26.2 miles) is the magic number.
A brief digression if I may... One time, I was talking to a friend and I told her that I was running a half marathon on the weekend. "A marathon?" she asked. "No, no" I said, "just a half marathon". She patted me on the shoulder and said "Céline, you've been training really hard for this, you can call it a marathon if you want."
Sigh.
Back to long runs. Every week, my mind plays this horrible little joke on me as I near the end of the run. I'm tired, my legs are heavy, my head is pounding and I'm usually pretty exhausted by the time I spot the store. That's about the moment my brain says "so, think you could add another 22.2k to what you just ran?".
Sometimes my brain is an asshole.
The answer is obvious. No, I can't.
The next week "so, think you could add another 20.2k to that run?"
Ummmmm...still no. Piss off!
Last week it was 18.2k.
This week, it's 16.2k.
You know what? I'm getting closer and closer to the moment when I'll be able to answer 'yes damn it!!" to that weekly question.
There really is method to the madness of training to run this distance. Forty two kilometres is a really long way. Drive it in your car if you don't believe me. It's shocking, humbling and, if you're actually planning on running it, pretty terrifying.
But by adding two kilometres a week, we're training our body slowly but surely to run the distance.
We are going to peak at 35k, a few weeks out from race day. My brain will ask me "so, think you can add 7.2k to what you just ran?" I'll answer "hell yeah!" because, by that point, it will be true.
It's just so damn amazing what we can do when we break it down into bite size pieces.
On week one of our training program, we had to run 16k. Week two was 18k. We add two kilometers each week (except on easy weeks when we only run 10k) and are building up to 35k.
The actual distance of a marathon is 42.2k. You'd be surprised how many people ask me how long the marathon is that I'm running. I guess they figure marathon means race so I'm just running a race of some arbitrary distance. Nope - 42.2k (26.2 miles) is the magic number.
A brief digression if I may... One time, I was talking to a friend and I told her that I was running a half marathon on the weekend. "A marathon?" she asked. "No, no" I said, "just a half marathon". She patted me on the shoulder and said "Céline, you've been training really hard for this, you can call it a marathon if you want."
Sigh.
Back to long runs. Every week, my mind plays this horrible little joke on me as I near the end of the run. I'm tired, my legs are heavy, my head is pounding and I'm usually pretty exhausted by the time I spot the store. That's about the moment my brain says "so, think you could add another 22.2k to what you just ran?".
Sometimes my brain is an asshole.
The answer is obvious. No, I can't.
The next week "so, think you could add another 20.2k to that run?"
Ummmmm...still no. Piss off!
Last week it was 18.2k.
This week, it's 16.2k.
You know what? I'm getting closer and closer to the moment when I'll be able to answer 'yes damn it!!" to that weekly question.
There really is method to the madness of training to run this distance. Forty two kilometres is a really long way. Drive it in your car if you don't believe me. It's shocking, humbling and, if you're actually planning on running it, pretty terrifying.
But by adding two kilometres a week, we're training our body slowly but surely to run the distance.
We are going to peak at 35k, a few weeks out from race day. My brain will ask me "so, think you can add 7.2k to what you just ran?" I'll answer "hell yeah!" because, by that point, it will be true.
It's just so damn amazing what we can do when we break it down into bite size pieces.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Balancing Blood and Body
It's Thursday - that means it's interval time again. Ten times 800m. Same as last week except this time I didn't dream about doing them before I actually did them.
I woke up to a blood sugar of 4.6. That's a wonderful number to wake up to but, when I have a hard run that I didn't wake up at 3:30am to adjust my basal for, it feels a little on the low side. Normally, for early morning runs, I have a gel and head out the door. My instincts told me to have a gel, a date and a big handful of raisins. So I did.
Doug asked how many intervals I had to do. I said ten. He said 'do six'. I said that I would aim for ten but listen to my body. He headed off to run Hydro Hill and I headed down the road to my interval spot.
I did six intervals and felt quite energetic. My calves and shins were feeling tight. I wondered whether I should push them or attend to their whining. I gave them a mini massage between each rep and, after a few rounds, they loosened up nicely.
After the sixth interval, I was feeling so good that I decided to do all ten.
Then I did the seventh one. Part way through, I felt my speed drop and my body seemed to shift gears. Nothing hurt, nothing specific was wrong, I just felt my energy level drop a notch. After number seven, I drank an extra gulp of water and took a longer rest before starting the next one. On number eight, I again felt that body shift and energy drop. Nothing significant but enough to decide that eight was the magic number.
I had two etabs, drank a bit more water and headed home. I ran slow and easy which was exactly the speed my body was able to sustain for the two kilometre return trip. As soon as I got home, I checked my sugar. It was 4.6.
Exactly the same as it was before I started my run. That part is impressive. But it also explains my gear shift problem. My sugar rarely goes below 5.0 during a run - I do what I can to ensure that it doesn't. Anything under four is a pretty serious problem and I like having a bit of a buffer. So I try to keep my sugar over five. On top of the dangers of going too low, I've noticed that as soon as I get near 5.0, I feel my energy start to drop. That's probably what happened back at interval 7.
I feel my best on runs when my blood sugar hovers between 6 and 10. That's probably where I was for the first six intervals which is why I felt so good and ran consistent times for each.
I'm glad that I didn't listen when my shins and calves started complaining. I took care of them but carried on with the run.
I'm also glad that I didn't push myself to run all ten intervals. If I had, I would most likely have had a low on the run home which is never a safe place to be.
It's all about knowing when to listen and when to ignore. When to hold 'em and when to fold'em.
When to walk away...and when to run.
I never count my money, when I'm sitting at the table...but here are my interval times, for anyone who is interested:
4:42
4:40
4:39
4:38
4:35
4:32
4:40
4:44
Funny, you can see my body warm up during the first few, settle into a groove and then, lose momentum when my sugar took a dive.
Another day in the life of a runner with diabetes. Which, as my friend John well knows, is NOT the same thing as a diabetic runner.
I woke up to a blood sugar of 4.6. That's a wonderful number to wake up to but, when I have a hard run that I didn't wake up at 3:30am to adjust my basal for, it feels a little on the low side. Normally, for early morning runs, I have a gel and head out the door. My instincts told me to have a gel, a date and a big handful of raisins. So I did.
Doug asked how many intervals I had to do. I said ten. He said 'do six'. I said that I would aim for ten but listen to my body. He headed off to run Hydro Hill and I headed down the road to my interval spot.
I did six intervals and felt quite energetic. My calves and shins were feeling tight. I wondered whether I should push them or attend to their whining. I gave them a mini massage between each rep and, after a few rounds, they loosened up nicely.
After the sixth interval, I was feeling so good that I decided to do all ten.
Then I did the seventh one. Part way through, I felt my speed drop and my body seemed to shift gears. Nothing hurt, nothing specific was wrong, I just felt my energy level drop a notch. After number seven, I drank an extra gulp of water and took a longer rest before starting the next one. On number eight, I again felt that body shift and energy drop. Nothing significant but enough to decide that eight was the magic number.
I had two etabs, drank a bit more water and headed home. I ran slow and easy which was exactly the speed my body was able to sustain for the two kilometre return trip. As soon as I got home, I checked my sugar. It was 4.6.
Exactly the same as it was before I started my run. That part is impressive. But it also explains my gear shift problem. My sugar rarely goes below 5.0 during a run - I do what I can to ensure that it doesn't. Anything under four is a pretty serious problem and I like having a bit of a buffer. So I try to keep my sugar over five. On top of the dangers of going too low, I've noticed that as soon as I get near 5.0, I feel my energy start to drop. That's probably what happened back at interval 7.
I feel my best on runs when my blood sugar hovers between 6 and 10. That's probably where I was for the first six intervals which is why I felt so good and ran consistent times for each.
I'm glad that I didn't listen when my shins and calves started complaining. I took care of them but carried on with the run.
I'm also glad that I didn't push myself to run all ten intervals. If I had, I would most likely have had a low on the run home which is never a safe place to be.
It's all about knowing when to listen and when to ignore. When to hold 'em and when to fold'em.
When to walk away...and when to run.
I never count my money, when I'm sitting at the table...but here are my interval times, for anyone who is interested:
4:42
4:40
4:39
4:38
4:35
4:32
4:40
4:44
Funny, you can see my body warm up during the first few, settle into a groove and then, lose momentum when my sugar took a dive.
Another day in the life of a runner with diabetes. Which, as my friend John well knows, is NOT the same thing as a diabetic runner.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Twice Since Yesterday
Time is something that humans worry about.
And dogs when they know that they're going for a walk soon.
Days, weeks, months - we made those up to help us keep track of things.
Not that there is anything wrong with that - it's just important to remember that dinosaurs did not rest on Sundays, count the weeks until Christmas or worry about being ten minutes late for dinner.
No one really cares about time except humans and the animals that must abide by human schedules.
I'm saying all of this because time, days of the week and schedules just seemed very weird to me this morning. Here's why:
If you look at a calendar, Tuesday and Wednesday are two separate days. I'm supposed to run 13k on Tuesdays and 30 minutes on Wednesdays. With me so far?
There is no rule as to what time I should run. Typically, I run in the morning or the evening - meaning that the runs are spaced roughly 24 hours apart.
This week was a little different. I did not get up extra early to run before work on Tuesday because...well, just because. So I ran at 5pm. Home by 6:20pm. Stretched and showered by 7pm. In bed by nine. End of Tuesday.
Wednesday morning, I got up at 5:30am and was out the door and running by 6am.
Two runs - two separate days according to the calendar.
As I was stretching and thinking about the day ahead - I realized that I had run twice since I left work the previous afternoon. It had been exactly 15 hours since I walked out the door, hopped in my car and headed home. I slept for eight of those hours. I ran for two of them and, if you count stretching, then you'd better add another hour. So we're up to 11 hours. I showered twice, had dinner, did the dishes and sat on the couch for a few minutes. There goes 15 hours. Poof! Just like that.
So yes, I ran 13k on Tuesday and 30 minutes on Wednesday. According to the calendar anyway. But, according to my body, I came home from work, ran twice, slept and now it's time for work again.
How the hell do people do it when they have kids? A dog? Houseplants? A commute that takes more than three minutes.
Good lord!
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Full Speed Ahead
Week seven starts today.
We've upped the ante again and now Tuesday runs are 13k instead of 10. They stay at 13k from now until the week before the race (except for easy weeks of course). We are now officially full speed ahead - all engines at full throttle. We've maxed out Tuesday nights, Thursdays are already in full swing with hills and intervals and Saturdays are just getting longer every week.
When I was training for my first half marathon, my body got more and more tired every week. By the time race day arrived, I was so worn out that I couldn't wait to run the race just so I could have a few weeks off running.
That's what I expected marathon training to be like. Eighteen weeks of progressive exhaustion. So far though, I'm holding up quite well. My body is getting better at the long runs and I don't even start thinking about how many kilometres are left until I get to about 15k. That's a huge improvement from not so long ago when I would start counting from the first step out the door. I think that running four days a week has made a huge difference - my body is so much more used to running now that it bounces back more quickly and is ready to go again by the next day.
The biggest challenge these days is deciding whether to get up at 5am to run before work or brave the heat after work. Both options wear me out for different reasons. Today, I did not get up before work because we got home very late last night from a lovely dinner party. I knew that sleeping in would be a better option - plus I would have all day today to hydrate for the run since I neglected to do that very well last night. Wine, apparently, does not count.
So I'm braving the heat this afternoon.
I have my coffee, my eload and my water ready to go. I will be obsessively checking the humidex all day and working on my game plan. For runs like this - where it's hot and tempting to throw in the towel - I do a circular route rather than an out and back. It keeps me moving forward and I am less inclined to argue with myself about turning back early.
It's all about learning how to work with and, when necessary, push your body. Run circular routes when it's tempting to quit. Get up early so hard interval workouts seem easier because it's 'only' 30 degrees out. Tell people what you have to run so that you're accountable. Whatever it takes to get'er done.
Happy August everyone. Here's to fresh Niagara peaches and delicious corn on the cob, cooler evenings, a week's vacation, family and friends...and lots of time spent outside exploring this fabulous country of ours.
Slainte!
We've upped the ante again and now Tuesday runs are 13k instead of 10. They stay at 13k from now until the week before the race (except for easy weeks of course). We are now officially full speed ahead - all engines at full throttle. We've maxed out Tuesday nights, Thursdays are already in full swing with hills and intervals and Saturdays are just getting longer every week.
When I was training for my first half marathon, my body got more and more tired every week. By the time race day arrived, I was so worn out that I couldn't wait to run the race just so I could have a few weeks off running.
That's what I expected marathon training to be like. Eighteen weeks of progressive exhaustion. So far though, I'm holding up quite well. My body is getting better at the long runs and I don't even start thinking about how many kilometres are left until I get to about 15k. That's a huge improvement from not so long ago when I would start counting from the first step out the door. I think that running four days a week has made a huge difference - my body is so much more used to running now that it bounces back more quickly and is ready to go again by the next day.
The biggest challenge these days is deciding whether to get up at 5am to run before work or brave the heat after work. Both options wear me out for different reasons. Today, I did not get up before work because we got home very late last night from a lovely dinner party. I knew that sleeping in would be a better option - plus I would have all day today to hydrate for the run since I neglected to do that very well last night. Wine, apparently, does not count.
So I'm braving the heat this afternoon.
I have my coffee, my eload and my water ready to go. I will be obsessively checking the humidex all day and working on my game plan. For runs like this - where it's hot and tempting to throw in the towel - I do a circular route rather than an out and back. It keeps me moving forward and I am less inclined to argue with myself about turning back early.
It's all about learning how to work with and, when necessary, push your body. Run circular routes when it's tempting to quit. Get up early so hard interval workouts seem easier because it's 'only' 30 degrees out. Tell people what you have to run so that you're accountable. Whatever it takes to get'er done.
Happy August everyone. Here's to fresh Niagara peaches and delicious corn on the cob, cooler evenings, a week's vacation, family and friends...and lots of time spent outside exploring this fabulous country of ours.
Slainte!
Monday, August 1, 2011
Ups an Downs
It was a weekend of ups and downs.
Saturday was a 24k run. Typically, our running route from the store is an out and back route. We add two kilometres each week so we simply run one extra kilometre out from the store. This route makes it easier to keep an eye on the runners and provide water and emotional support.
I was getting a little tired of running this route so I decided to run a different first half. Run from home, head down the country roads and meet up with the group for the run back in. The only challenge was that I would have to run up the big hill to Rockway and then run down a super steep hill to meet up with the group. The Rockway hill is always a challenge on the bike so I was a little apprehensive trying to run up. The hill down is terrifying on a bike so I was afraid of what it might do to my shins as I pounded down with the extra weight of gravity to add to the pressure.
Here is what I learned. Hill climbs are harder on a bike than on foot. I spent the first 8k thinking about the mindset I would need to be in to tackle the climb. Then I actually started the climb and practically sailed up. It was surprisingly easy. Sweet!
The run down is also a lot easier than expected. The scary part of riding down the hill is the speed combined with the blind corners. Running slows everything down to a manageable pace. I sailed down sans problème.
Ups and downs.
Sunday we headed to Grimbsy to cycle the 25k route of the Niagara duathlon. Several riders are in the race next weekend so it a great opportunity to practice the route. Or, more importantly, practice riding the dreaded Park Street Hill. We ride up and down the Niagara Escarpment quite often and, while it's never easy, it's manageable.
The Park Street Hill is an entirely different beast.
It's steep - really really steep. It's windy. It starts off hard and fast - straight up. It has one short plateau after the first climb which is just long enough to catch your breath before the next two upward surges. Each surge gets progressively steeper. I've ridden it three times before and, trust me when I say, it's just nasty.
Going down is even worse. For me anyway, it is terrifying. Some of the riders like the rush of hitting 60+ km/hour on a bike. I am not one of them. I tossed and turned most of Saturday night - troubled by dreams of cycling down the hill interspersed with dreams of being attacked by grisly bears. To say that I did not sleep well is a wee bit of an understatement.
We rode the route. We started the climb and, except for a minor shifting emergency at the beginning, it was ok. We all made it up, exhausted but victorious. We cycled the remaining flat part of the route and, too soon, found ourselves at the top....looking down. One after another, we headed down the hill. I lost sight of the others within seconds as they took up and I rode my brakes the entire way down. Heart pounding, legs shaking, terrified but in control. I made it down.
Ups and downs.
Physical ones. Emotional ones.
I overcame them all.
Let's see what week seven has in store.
Saturday was a 24k run. Typically, our running route from the store is an out and back route. We add two kilometres each week so we simply run one extra kilometre out from the store. This route makes it easier to keep an eye on the runners and provide water and emotional support.
I was getting a little tired of running this route so I decided to run a different first half. Run from home, head down the country roads and meet up with the group for the run back in. The only challenge was that I would have to run up the big hill to Rockway and then run down a super steep hill to meet up with the group. The Rockway hill is always a challenge on the bike so I was a little apprehensive trying to run up. The hill down is terrifying on a bike so I was afraid of what it might do to my shins as I pounded down with the extra weight of gravity to add to the pressure.
Here is what I learned. Hill climbs are harder on a bike than on foot. I spent the first 8k thinking about the mindset I would need to be in to tackle the climb. Then I actually started the climb and practically sailed up. It was surprisingly easy. Sweet!
The run down is also a lot easier than expected. The scary part of riding down the hill is the speed combined with the blind corners. Running slows everything down to a manageable pace. I sailed down sans problème.
Ups and downs.
Sunday we headed to Grimbsy to cycle the 25k route of the Niagara duathlon. Several riders are in the race next weekend so it a great opportunity to practice the route. Or, more importantly, practice riding the dreaded Park Street Hill. We ride up and down the Niagara Escarpment quite often and, while it's never easy, it's manageable.
The Park Street Hill is an entirely different beast.
It's steep - really really steep. It's windy. It starts off hard and fast - straight up. It has one short plateau after the first climb which is just long enough to catch your breath before the next two upward surges. Each surge gets progressively steeper. I've ridden it three times before and, trust me when I say, it's just nasty.
Going down is even worse. For me anyway, it is terrifying. Some of the riders like the rush of hitting 60+ km/hour on a bike. I am not one of them. I tossed and turned most of Saturday night - troubled by dreams of cycling down the hill interspersed with dreams of being attacked by grisly bears. To say that I did not sleep well is a wee bit of an understatement.
We rode the route. We started the climb and, except for a minor shifting emergency at the beginning, it was ok. We all made it up, exhausted but victorious. We cycled the remaining flat part of the route and, too soon, found ourselves at the top....looking down. One after another, we headed down the hill. I lost sight of the others within seconds as they took up and I rode my brakes the entire way down. Heart pounding, legs shaking, terrified but in control. I made it down.
Ups and downs.
Physical ones. Emotional ones.
I overcame them all.
Let's see what week seven has in store.
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