Holiday in Tenerife

 

I was trepidatious about this holiday before we flew out. Having somehow managed to injure myself consistently for pretty much 3 months it was difficult not to wonder what else could go wrong. Fate seemed to be laughing in the face of my attempts at positivity. When my right hip was injured I got into cycling and swimming. "Maybe it's a good thing" I would tell myself - "I'll be a more well rounded athlete now because of that injury." I had a brief period of feeling no injury just before and over Xmas at my sister's. Returning to Edinburgh I anticipated I'd be able to run although I was dreading how much fitness I would have inevitably lost and how much work I'd have to do just to get back to base-line. I needn't have worried because I injured the other hip pretty much right away and running was back off the table. I had about a day of stewing about it and then I jollied up and went back to the pool. "Maybe it's good" I told myself - "I'm enjoying all this swimming and my upper body's looking stronger". Then I took my bike out on an icy day and hit the deck and bashed my stupid ribs with my stupid camera.

"Maybe it's fine" I told myself and went off for a swim two days later. Stupid arse. It wasn't too bad in the pool but afterwards something horrific happened down my right side - the bottom of my ribs and the top of my stomach kind of swoll up. Getting into bed was a catastrophe. Then I'd lie there dreading the next time I'd need to get up to pee because to do that I'd have to disturb my bastard ribs. All the time I thought maybe there was a rib poking in my liver and that I was maybe dying but just kind of hoped not. There was no way I was going to go up to A & E and endure a long wait in a plastic seat and getting the evil eye from the receptionists, so I would just need to die if that was what was going to happen. The saddest thing would be that Peter would have narrowly missed out on getting a payout of a 'death in service' award from the NHS because I'd retired.

Anyway, I didn't die, but that was the end of swimming. Such a shame because there's a big outdoor somewhat heated  artificial lake in Puerto de la Cruz where we were going and I would  have really liked to have gone and spent a bit of time there.

Before flying my main concerns, apart from filling out all the damn government forms and getting them printed out and booking day 2 Covid tests and all the extra hoops that have been put in place, were trying not to damage myself and wondering how in hell I was going to hump my big ten ton North Face bag to the airport. Peter gets in a sweat on principle about not getting an airport taxi - I might have fought him claiming special circumstances, but I googled the prices and it turns out I am also too much of a cheapskate to get a taxi. So instead I managed to make my bags the lightest I ever had. I only took 3 books. I only took 2 pairs of trainers. My bag was way under the limit. The difficulties were all in the transitions - getting the bag off the floor and onto my back. Once it was on my back that was fine - it was just any twisting and heaving that was a problem.

Okay, fast-forwards - we got away with it. The flight was a little hell as it turned out we were sharing it with a hen party and some groups of - well are they soccer casuals? I don't know what to call them. Anyway there were maybe 15 passengers who had all been drinking spirits before the flight at 8.25am and snuck vodka on the plane in Pepsi bottles so the cabin crew had to confiscate them. 5000 years ago when I was young I have been known to like a party too but these ones were not nice. They were deliberately being arseholes to the cabin crew who were duty bound to try to get them to sit down and put their masks on.. I was scared the big fat fumbling idiot who was boring the poor cabin crew lady with how he was really a nice guy was going to fall on my damn ribs and ruin my holiday.  Me and PB just zoned out to the best of our ability until it was over. As our recent plane-mates made off in the direction of Tenerife Sur and we headed for the North I wished for them to have the killer hangovers they deserved with maybe a keen sense of shame and regret to go along-side.

But what on earth do you do on holiday if you can't run or swim (and you're too scared to cycle on the roads because they are fecking full on)? Well it turns out you can go for walks. Peter was very patient with all my limits and disabilities. In truth he knew fine if he wanted to go and do something more solid in the way of a day's adventure he was welcome to, but apart from going to the track a couple of times over the course of 2 weeks, he never did. He loves a potter with a camera. 

It turns out that going away on holiday and not being able to do very much is actually quite relaxing. We dreamed up mid-sized adventures for ourselves on a few days interspersed with more local days. Wandering about in the sunshine there was just so much to see. and we easily spent hours and hours wandering around and taking photos. Peter was much more active in deciding in advance what he wanted to see and going looking for it (butterflies, birds) and I was more interested in just seeing what came to us. Oddly then I tended to spot the things Peter was after when I wasn't really looking for them.

We had access to a small selection of Spanish tv channels that held no interest so we generally ate and looked at photos and listened to music in the evening, Peter swigging three glasses of wine to my one.  I had the more powerful 'device' having brought my lap-top and I somehow got control of the music. Peter suffers along but YouTube has sussed me out and no matter what we started out listening to sooner or later it would put on Radiohead, New Order or the Cure. After a while he'd raise an objection. He likes music for hibernating to though. It was hard to find a middle ground.  I had happened upon Bill Evans a while back and listening to his music proved to be possible for both of us. I remarked to Peter that although his music was fairly upbeat there was an underlying note of melancholy and I bet he'd had a sad life - so I had a bit of a google and kind of regretted it as Wikipedia described a short life marred by an abusive, drunken father, drug addiction, the loss of his friend in a car crash and his brother to suicide and then his own death at just 51.

Wine and Jazz evenings are good anyway. I'd recommend them.

Another real feature of the holiday was the fantastic shower. We had one of these showers with a huge great big head and strong water pressure that just knocked all the thoughts from your head and tensions from your body. As our shower spits out a weedy amount of tepid water - fine in the summer but chilly in winter, this shower was a big hit with the team and we were probably the cleanest we've ever been.

On top of that I got into having marathon sleeping sessions where I dreamt long complicated and involving dreams every night. Most diverting. It only really got properly light at about 8.30am so there was no hurry to be up and out.

So it was a good holiday. Who knew that not doing very much of anything at all can be so diverting? I think I probably used to know it but had forgotten.

I would still like to go back and be able to use the track and the big, big outdoor swimming pool though. Maybe next time.

J(a)NU(a)RY I - anag

 See what I did there? The clue was in the name of the month. How had I never noticed before? January 2022 has been a beezer of a month.

January 1st was a nice day. I went a run round Arthur's Seat and extended it up the High Street a bit. My right hip seems fine now, but my left hip started to get a bit uncomfortable about 5 miles in. I didn't think it would be anything serious, just did some stretches and stuff when I got home.

I even gave it a couple of days - going for a walk with Peter on the Sunday instead of running and then nothing the day after.

I was off on the Tuesday so Peter and I went to Gullane. It was a lovely day but my hip was tight. I thought it would ease off as we ran but actually by the time we got back to the car I was hurpling. I was mightily fucked off but then took a day off and went swimming on the Thursday. I had got my head round being a bit patient again and going swimming and cycling until this injury came right.

Getting back in swimming was good and I was starting to think maybe it was a good thing that my running had stalled again because all round it's probably better for me if I diversify. 

But then I went a cycle the next day. It had been really cold over night and I knew there would be some ice and I was super careful until at Cramond I was caught out by some totally black ice. The bike went over sideways and I  landed on the side of my head and my right side. Unfortunately I'd put my camera in the side pocket of my rucksack so it was like landing on a brick with my ribs. There was a man and his wife and child there who were asking if I was alright, and I sat on the ice for a while trying to assess that very thing. I've hurt those very ribs before - probably cracked them although I don't know because I didn't bother going for an x-ray since they can't do anything anyway. At first I couldn't feel much there so I hoped I'd got away with it. Fat chance. As I got back up on my feet and shuffled off with my bike the pain in my side grew and grew. Oh my God the regret! Why did I go out on my stupid bike? The thing is while I was on my bike I was in a bad mood about my hip. Now I'd have given anything to be back in the world where I only had a hip injury! I could see now plainly that I had in fact had it made - all the swimming I wanted and cycling as soon as it wasn't icy. Aaaaaaaaaah! I was still holding onto a hope that maybe my ribs wouldn't be too bad though - so maybe I could still go swimming.

Two days later  I did go swimming and it wasn't too bad at the time - although I had to stop if I was breathing too heavily because that was hurting - but afterwards the muscles around the floating ribs on my right side went into a big tight cramp and I had a rather perturbing thought that maybe a bit of my ribs was poking into my liver. I'm never exactly sure where my liver is but it's round about there. It was really uncomfortable. Sitting on the sofa was sore. Trying to get horizontal for bed was a fucking crisis and the thought of having to get up for a pee was torture. I swapped between the two available positions, lying on my back or on the non-injured rib side getting maybe 20 minutes grace out of each position until it was too uncomfortable again. Maybe about 5 in the morning I got into a longer sleep and felt almost comfy at 7.30 when it was time to get up.

A day of work was a welcome distraction.

Then I ventured out a wee walk the next day.

I went out just at sunset and walked just shy of 3 miles. My hip was tight and uncomfortable all the time and didn't loosen off.

I'm giving it to you blow by blow aren't I? Lucky you. So anyway I took another 2 whole days off after that and just stayed inside the flat. I've been doing the dishes and thinking about tidying but not really doing it. Also thinking about packing because we're supposed to be going away next week. I've done a gazillion Feldenkrais lessons which usually does something good in terms of relaxing my muscles. What the heck is up with my left hip I don't know. I do not understand it. It's not really my hip. It's the hip area - at the back. I think it's stabilising muscles. I really don't know what it's all about.

Yesterday I ventured out to the Tesco recycling bins with my excess running shoes and then went to Lidl. My flipping hip was sore much of the time - uphills being slightly better. I came home and did another gazillion Feldenkrais lessons.

Today I woke up feeling a bit better. (Shhhh, don't jinx it.) I went a conservative, conditional stroll up to Princes St - I can still feel my hip but it was like whatever is tight in there was relaxing from time to time.  It wasn't just continually tight.

So whoop-de-do. I'm actually scared to go swimming in case I do myself a mischief. I don't want to go cycling because I know the stretch forwards will be sore on the bike. My ambition is to not make myself any worse before going on holiday. It's amazing how quickly and dramatically your horizons can narrow. Anyway, I really enjoyed getting out for a walk today.

So, emmm, Happy New Year! Get your lucky white heather here!

End o Year round up

 I have been sitting on my arse sorting through photos for so long that I don't know if I have the patience for this, but we'll see what we can do. I thought I'd pick just one photo from each month in order to have not too long a blog and not too many pictures, but that has proved impossible.

As I've been learning Spanish all year then I'm going to give you month headings in Spanish.

ENERO

January we were back in deep lock-down. Didn't go anywhere. Trabaja en casa. It was okay I guess. Never the cheeriest time of year. I stopped going into the office altogether and I think spent so long in the one position that my shoulder froze. I didn't think it had frozen particularly, I just thought it was sore, and that I was being unusually sensible in not annoying it. I often can't leave an injury alone but I made a conscious effort to with this one, which was probably a mistake. Your older person's shoulder freezes and it also happens when people have had their arms in a cast so the immobility was probably a part of it. Since if I can run I'm not that bothered about most other things I didn't sweat it or even really notice it went on for such a long time.

FEBRERO

I think this is when I went out with my good new camera Panasonic FZ330, and got such good results that it pushed Peter into buying an even better camera. I can't bring myself to run around with great big heavy cameras however so most of my photos are still taken on either the Panasonic Lumix TZ70 if you're lucky or with my Canon Ixus most likely because it is wonderfully slim and light and usually gives you at least an idea of what was going on!

It was quite grim working from home. This was the phone I was working from most of the time throughout the pandemic.

and that's what I did the lion's share of my work with. There was an on-line video portal also but for some reason it was really poor quality - nothing like as good as Skype or Zoom - so it only really worked for people who had very good equipment and internet. Many of the people I saw didn't have that, so it wasn't available.

MARZO

March - still in lock-down. I did only local runs. Some people sneaked a wee bit further and with good justification because actually being in town you were much more likely to come into close proximity with many more people than if you took to the hills or went  along the coast, but being a public servant I stuck to the letter of the law.

ABRIL

April - it was still all still going on. I had what now seems like a fateful on-line meeting with my boss. It's a long story and a boring one and a story about numbers but anyway I had a meeting with my boss where he suggested based on some numbers he didn't understand generated by people who have never met me and don't know what I do that I wasn't doing enough. I knew I was actually doing the most of anyone in the team. My boss was not a bad person and when he got a 'strong reaction' from me he went away and looked at what I was telling him and apologised unreservedly, - but it set something in motion for me. It was the last straw.

There's something about working in a big organisation where you know you are just a number and you get treated as exactly that. It grinds you down. I had accepted it up to this point because I actually thought I had to. It's nice to get a regular wage but you also get a fair amount of shit to just swallow down. During this time I had a deep look into the rules of my pension and realised for the very first time that I could take early retirement from my 55th birthday - at a big cut, obviously, but I had previously never understood that this was even an option. At first I thought this maybe wasn't sensible but it worked away at me in the dark. I tried and tried and tried to get some hard numbers about how much money I would get if I left, but I never got an answer until the 1st November - so I had to make my decision largely in the dark.

In the mean-time, at the end of April, there was a fire in my building and I had to go out the window in a cherry picker. The two scenarios, while being unrelated - as far as I know - went together in my head and became this thought - you can die any day - do you really want to be working for fucktards when you die? I thought not. I thought I do not want that. I would rather work purely for myself.

MAYO

So by May we were allowed out and about more. I hadn't 100% made up my mind about leaving my job although looking back on it, there wasn't much to decide. I'd had my own business doing counselling since 2015 after finishing my Masters in 2014. I'd deliberately kept it small and as stress-free as possible and it had gone really very smoothly since then. I had never wanted to lean on it as a main source of income - but the obvious thing was to just increase that and leave my NHS job.

Mean-time for whatever reason - maybe it was stress, maybe it was my age, maybe it was the hot summer or maybe it was my sore shoulder, I wasn't sleeping well and was tired all the time. I was getting maybe 3-5 hours a night. There's been a lot of talk about people having insomnia during the pandemic but I've never heard anything more concrete about it - like why - what was going on with people? I wasn't consciously worrying about things but would be awake for hours every night. It was boring. I tried a lot of things.

I tried yoga for sleep problems but I couldn't do most of the exercises because of my shoulder.

I tried Paul McKenna's hypnosis for sleep program - but I didn't find it really worked. I tried a number of different hypnotic things actually - but they didn't make much difference and were irritating.

I tried white-noise head-phones and those black things you put on your eyes, but none of it got me away into a proper sleep. I tried Jujube extract which made not a jot of difference.

JUNIO

By the look of things June was hot. I still had a sore shoulder. I still wasn't sleeping. I was always trying to increase my mileage but my feet would start hurting from anything over 10 miles or so. I tried various things for that like calf lifts and hydrating more but I couldn't crack it. Peter took the piss which annoyed me.

JULIO

By the look of things July was also hot! I tried some postural exercises out of a book by Pete Egoscue to try to fix my shoulder. I handed in my application to retire. I also reduced my hours at work. I still wasn't sleeping. I tried swimming but I couldn't swim properly. I had a week's holiday so we went through to see my sister in Tayvallich. That was really good fun and it was good to get away. We hadn't been much further than Gullane really - or I hadn't - since the first lock-down in March 2020 when I got back from Sheffield. I'd hardly seen anyone else apart from Peter, people from work, and Nick. Suddenly I was with family again. My nephew Donald couldn't believe how similar me and his mum were in our thoughts about things. It was great comparing notes. Since early adulthood my sister and I's  thoughts have tended to move along parallel lines and they had continued to do so.

AGOSTO

I gave Pete Egoscue a good go but my shoulder was still sore and not working. My whole arm was aching sometimes in bed and one Saturday night towards the end of August I booked myself on-line to see a physio. By this time I had figured out myself from much googling that it was a frozen shoulder and I knew that they can last for 18 months and just resolve or sometimes never resolve. I wanted to be able to swim again! And I was sick of it being so sore.

I went and saw Lianne Brunton at Balanced Edinburgh and she told me my options.including hydrodilatation which was likely to be the quickest and the most successful although a bit expensive. I hummed and hawed a wee bit because money - but then went for it. Let's skip to September. I can't remember August. It was hot. I didn't sleep very well. I was keeping on keeping on at work and trying not be THAT person and do my job with a good grace whilst really wanting the fuck out of there as soon as possible.

SEPTIEMBRE

Yup looks like it was hot again. I got the hydro Mc what's it called thing done about the middle of September and then oh my God maybe it was the temperature drop but also maybe it was the cortisone but I started to sleep well and I started to get the use of my arm back. I had to do some VERY  painful exercises to get the ROM back in my shoulder - really to bust through the remaining scar tissue - but I did it like a boss.

OCTUBRE

Still trying to keep the head at work. I was sleeping better and running better - until in another of these turns of fate I really injured something in my bum/hip/back one day. I'd been doing what sweary people might call a shit-ton of paper-work, getting ready to leave my post and tie up all the loose ends. Nothing happened but one day I went out running and my right hip felt very stiff but I assumed it would ease off if I warmed up gently - and I really did warm up gently, but 3 miles into the run it became properly injury grade oh fuck it sore. It was October 26th, and I was so near to retirement day! Thank goodness I never booked a holiday. I had thought about it. It was so bad I couldn't even walk properly for a good few weeks, but thank goodness I could cycle, so I did much more of that than usual.

NOVIEMBRE

Retirement day. Retirement Cake.

I asked Donald Macrae at club what to do about my bum/hip/back and he gave me a set of strengthening exercises for all the muscles of the hip - he had a good perspective saying it could be this or it could be that but really the thing to do was give it a chance to heal and strengthen all the muscles so if it was caused by an imbalance that would take care of it. I was frustrated not to be able to run and worried in case it would turn ino something permanent but also happy to spend some time on my bikes and to get myself swimming again, which would surely be good for my still improving shoulder.

November's exercise was mostly swimming, cycling and hanging around in graveyards with Peter - who had made the switch from butterflies to birds. Swimming was sore at first but very quickly my back and shoulder got stronger again and I think it has been very good rehab. 

As far as work went, I set up an extra day of private clients and it just fell easily into place, which is great.

DICIEMBRE

So here we are at the end of the year. My running has been coming back. I had the best run in 2 months just today - no pain, just a fair bit of inertia because I'm not used to it. I've still been swimming and cycling. We went back through to Tayvallich to see my sister and her family for Xmas and I drank more in a few days than I have all year. It was good fun. We had Radiohead singing, whisky tasting, 3 hour dog walks in the long bracken and much talking. This has been a very eventful year in that I had no idea in January that things would be really different by the end of the year. I feel like I've been busted out of prison and I'm still pinching myself. I'm also a bit surprised to find I'm 55. How did that happen? I'd been too busy to pay much attention. I've been letting all the dye grow out of my hair because it's years since I've let it just go au natural and I'm genuinely curious to see what emerges.

I haven't thought too far ahead so I haven't got any New Year resolutions but I'd really like to be able to continue to run and swim and cycle. I'd love to see if I could get under 4 hours for the Edinburgh Marathon which I've got a postponed place in since I signed up for 2020 and it was cancelled.

The next thing is we're supposed to be going to Tenerfie at the end of January so finger's crossed for no further lock-downs and me figuring out what tests we need and when and how to get them.

I've been reading this book about muscular problems by John Sarno, which I want to tell you about, but it'll have to wait for another time because yo estoy cansadisima.

Phew. Made it. Happy New Year when it comes.