Oh dear. I am just realising I haven't blogged last weekend, and I have to because I've got some cracking photos. Tie up your laces tightly because this is going to be a longer one.....
Last Saturday I think we went to Gullane, but I forgot my camera, so this is my only record of it. This is how cold it was outside and how toasty it was getting in my room before I reluctantly got ready and went out into the f-r-e-e-z-i-n-g cold.
I had creaky knees and all kinds of complaints and I was suggesting to Peter that maybe we could ask Sheila Cochrane that organises the Feel the Burns Hill race to give us deferred entries to 2019. I didn't know how I was going to get any training in and certainly couldn't see how we'd get a recce before the race. Peter told me finding my way round the course would be easy and there was no need for a recce. I don't know if that's true but it was what I wanted to hear. When we got home the forecast for Sunday was looking lovely - bright and sunny and very little wind so I thought creaky knees or no we should go to the Pentlands. I was oh so glad we did! It was very, very cold in the car-park at Flotterstone but we got a scone and a coffee each out of the Pentland Hills cafe there and that gave us the courage to set off.
Halfway up Turnhouse I was warm and the layers started to come off.
Despite not doing much hilliness since The Skyline and Manor Water, I found my legs were quite happy.
By Scald Law the view was getting pretty special.
We went over the Kips and down the Drove road and found the path up Hare Hill was covered with thick icy puddles.
Then on the way up Black Hill we found the small pond half way up was iced over too. Initially we were cautious in case it gave way, but after some careful testing, at least one of us gave ourselves over to it whole-heartedly.
This is what happened to Narcissus. I wondered if he would ever drag himself away.
It was a lovely day out and reminded me how much I like getting out in the hills. Made me want to do more. But meantime....
My stomach, which can be a bit rubbish, hadn't really been right since the Water of Leith Half. I tried to go easy on it and expected that it would get better. It wasn't great last Sunday after the run. As the week went on it got worse and worse however and by yesterday I was having to go to the toilet with alarming and unpredictable urgency. Going to work I was dosed up on Loperamide and I thought I would survive the day - which I did, but the cycle home, which I couldn't hurry because there were icy patches all the way down the cycle path, was a touch and go affair. Having survived the cycle and nearly home, I got off my bike to cross at the lights and the whole thing got worse to the extent it is a near miracle that I in no way besmirched my undergarments. Peter arrived home just minutes after me and expressed his amusement as I emerged from the toilet with my coat and helmet still on.
Damn this really wasn't good.
Being a nurse, I have a number of patients who have IBS and it has occurred to me before that I also have it. I have never really wanted to give myself a diagnosis though. I'd heard about the Fodmap diet which has produced some good results for people with IBS, but I'd never gone into the detail. I thought my diet would probably be okay. One thing I knew was okay was brown rice. I knew this because a patient of mine was telling me that her doctor had been suggesting some alterations to her diet and as she put it "he wants me to eat FUCKING BROWN RICE" with a look on her face which might have suggested he had asked her to do a pole dance.
I used to get horrifically constipated, particularly when I was travelling. A story I will never tell is of when Peter and I were trekking in the Himalayas as acclimatisation for doing the Everest Marathon. Where most of the people had had the liquid shits for days and days, I, for some reason, was holding on to my left-overs. My stomach got larger and harder and harder until one day the 'weather broke'. The sherpas had helpfully made us a hole in the rocks with a tarpaulin over it so we could get a bit of privacy. I produced an alarmingly long snake of many colours, like a magic trick, nearly filling up all the space and leaving none for anyone else. I was relieved when I exited the tent and there was nobody waiting and I got as far away as I could as quickly as possible so nobody could point fingers.
Anyway, in recent years I've gone the other way. Yesterday felt just too out of control so I thought I'd have a look at the Fodmap diet and see what they were suggesting I shouldn't be eating...
OMG onions and garlic and yoghurt and apples. I live on the stuff. You shouldn't eat too many sweet potatoes either. Which I do. It kind of made sense of what was happening. On Tuesday I made a big pot of vegetable stewy stuff with loads of onions and garlic and loads of sweet potatoes....and I'd also made a big pot of stewed apples because stewed apples are supposed to be good for your tummy - but not for IBS apparently - and I had stewed apples with yoghurt and honey - both of which aren't good. I think I can eat all of those things when my tummy is calm but it wasn't calm and it made it worse.
So I'm hoping I might have a solution. I'll give it a try anyway. So I had to forego a scone at Gullane today - which was a shame. It was a nice day anyway.
There were these absolutely clear jelly-fish which we'd never seen before. Peter wondered what the point of going so minimal is.
I just had one unscheduled stop on our 8 miler - but there are toilets at Gullane beach now, so it wasn't a problem.
So that's it. We're there. I know what you're thinking. "Thank you for being so candid!". It's alright. You're welcome. We'll see what tomorrow brings.