Lost posts, moving goals

By Virginia Winder

Somewhere along the way I lost some posts.
Honestly, I wrote them and then they disappeared. Baffled I am,but I think it comes down to failure of the i, not the I. We're talking technology, of course.
One I tapped on my iPhone while sitting in a window seat by the beach overlooking Mokau at Labour Weekend.
Another I started on September 15.
Talking of posts, injury has moved my goal posts.
I've got something wrong with my lower back, possibly a rotated disc. This means I've been standing, walking and running crooked. I don't know the names of all the muscle bits that are bothered, but my sciatic nerve causes pain and every now and then things seize up.
Also, I've had a hamstring injury from tripping and lunging.
It seems kind of trivial to write about these things when I have family members with much worse problems and in terrible pain. My brother with a broken hand and then nasty infection, my sister with stress fractures in her spine and my husband, Warren, with a ruptured achilles and in a moon boot (10 weeks tomorrow).
That's why I'm going to focus on what I am doing and where I'm going.
I am still walking and biking, but running's out for now.
My big thing is swimming and I'm doing the 2km swim section of the half ironman on January 5 at Mt Maunganui. Yes, that's the race I was aiming at doing, but as ironwoman and sports massage therapist Lauren Hann says: "It's all building blocks."
On December 1, I completed the sprint triathlon in the Tinman at Mt Maunganui. I did fine in the 750-metre swim, was pretty slow during the 20km bike ride, but enjoyed the view. The run was mostly a walk and I was in a lot of pain. Damn annoying actually.
But I did it and managed to jog the last kilometre of the 5.5km run.
I had no idea about pacing myself in this tri, so I held back in case I ran out of steam. I didn't, mainly because I walked instead of running and so I finished the race last (third in my age group, OK last) and not tired. How crazy is that?!
My friend Susan was tired because she put everything in to the race and she finished way ahead of me. Damn fine effort, I say!
I'm not going to hold back on January 5 - I will push myself as hard as I possibily can in the swim because I'm in a team with Coach Clint and his wife. Therefore, it doesn't matter if I'm completely knackered at the end of my swim; I can hand on the baton, so to speak.
Swam 2km tonight and the outdoor pool was ridiculously warm. I sweated!
Other watery plans are the 1.2km masters swim in the Flannagan Cup (Warren too) on February 6 and the 2km swim section of the Wells New Plymouth Half Ironman on February 9.
As usual, there are dozens of people who've been amazingly supportive. How lucky am I?
But I've been nagged (gently) to get on and write my blog!
So here it is!

Sucking it up

By Virginia Winder

This is a speed blog because bed beckons.
It might be wild out there, but inside I've been training - 1km in the pool, 1 hour on the bike and straight off, into running shoes, and a medium job around two blocks. Came home and did Pilates breathing, stomach exercises and stretching.
Dinner tonight was spaghetti bolognaise, but I left most of the pasta, ate the meat and gobbled down a fresh salad.
My Pilates teacher at Contours has taught useful tips, like use your bum muscles when you kick. Am also practising my gliding techniques (inspired by Olympic swimmers) and trying to keep my head still in between breaths.
On the bike, I'm concentrating on sucking in my stomach muscles and making sure the points under my feet are pressing evenly. Did the same with running to try changing my pronation. Every step I take, every breath I take is purposeful and goes back to mindfulness - focusing on this moment.
Had a good food day, but need to up my water intake.
This speed blog is through the finish line now.
Heading to bed to listen to some mindfulness meditations by Dr Russell Harris, who has written http://www.thehappinesstrap.com/. May peace be with you - a variation on "may the force be with you".

Sometimes the Tui ads are wrong

By Virginia Winder
This is my text to my sports massage therapist.
I'm meant to send Lauren Hann a message every time I do a training session, but reckon 11.20pm is too late to bleep in her ear.
Coach Clint is also going to get an email or text every time I head out - and so will my friend Susan in Tauranga, who is going to do the Tinman with me.
This is it - accountability to my close support team, to Bryce Barnett, who believed in me 11 months ago, and to all those who have watched my journey from afar and given me loving encouragement. Wow, there are so many of you.
Tonight I spent one hour fast-pedalling on the wind trainer. I sweated my way through Private Practice and the start of Army Wives - don't you hate it when the recording stops on something you hadn't planned to watch, but get riveted by?
Yesterday I went for a check up at Contours gym, with Courtney, the young owner and a great personal trainer. She measured me and since March (yes, it's been some time) I have lost 6cm off each thigh, 2cm off each upper arm and more than 6cm around my stomach. All up, I've lost another 24cm, which is great, especially because I had such a bad June and a slow(ish) July.
But I have spent a lot of time on the wind trainer (thanks Mick McBeth) and been making a real effort with my running.
"You've been an athlete and your body will have the muscle memory," Lauren told me yesterday.
That made me grin, because there's a wonderful Tui sign up here in New Plymouth at the moment - as you can see.
But I really was a sprint champion! Honest.
Have been to Pilates four out of the past five weeks and am learning amazing things about balance, breathing and strengthening my stomach muscles. The stretching is good for my body too. But the highlight is the instructor, Brooke, a vivacious young woman with a great sense of humour. 
I even do the stomach pull-ins on the bike and tighten my glutimous maximus muscles when walking and running.
Food has been good this week too, although did have a chocolate croissant today and a piece of orange cake yesterday. I'm not craving carbohydrates, which I did for a few weeks, but have backed off again.
It may sound like an excuse, but one of the medications I'm on to help stabilise my moods is notorious for triggering carbo cravings and causing weight gain.
I did have a bit of a bread pig out last week, but luckily haven't put on a gram of weight. Exercise has kept that at bay and the fact the bread I did eat was packed with grain.
The best news of all is I feel normal.
When I announced this to my workmates yesterday, they looked at me with disbelief and quickly told me that I'm far from normal. Neither are they though, but in a good, quirky way.
But I feel clear-minded, focused and healthy in mind and body. It's a lovely peaceful feeling and I don't feel stressed by tight deadlines for work; I relish them.
Now I face four months of hard training to get ready for the Tinman and the Port of Tauranga Half.
Lauren says the big thing is to be fit enough to enjoy them.
And that's what Usain Bolt said too when interviewed by a Kiwi journalist after winning gold in the 100-metre sprint.
"It's got to be fun," he said.
Yes, I know what he means, although I'm no Olympic star. But I was a sprint champion at school!

Let's get lyrical and physical

By VIRGINIA WINDER

It hit me like a flash flood and disappeared with the same speed.
Yep, got whacked by the flu or some other virus that had all the symptoms of influenza.
Not going to go into them all because I'll sound like an old moaner and anyway, I'm good now. Apart from a slow-drip nose.
Got back into the exercise last week with a Desperate Housewives bike ride. Watched the first half of the final-ever double episode on the wind trainer, sweating and crying (just a bit) at the same time.
Also went to Pilates again and discovered more of my inner core.
Mindfulness at the hospital went well too.
Strangely, I can now spend time without 1000 thoughts racing through my head like some action movie on fast forward. In fact, by focusing on my breath, I can think absolutely nothing. It's like having one of those thought bubbles in my head with nothing in it.
This whole peaceful way of being is an unfamiliar feeling for me. It's weird, but good, not seesawing through my days. I must admit I miss the euphoria but not the dungeons.
Feel like I've been given a fresh page to write on; one I can fill with whatever I want to, rather than a mad scribble of thoughts.
I choose to fill my daily diar ywith exercise, creative writing, art and and a whole lot more. For now, I'll just focus on fitness and creativity.
This week I plan to go to Pilates, go for three long walk-runs (Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday), two bike rides (either inside or out) (Wednesday and Sunday) and two swims (Friday and Sunday).
Tuesday night is Waxing Lyrical on The Most 100.4FM. On my 7-8pm show, I play songs with great words. It's a wonderful time to get lost in music and hang out with the Kiwiana host. His show is straight after mine and, don't tell anyone, but I've got a bit of thing for him. He's just so handsome and hairy, lean and alluring.
Being alone in the darkened studio with him is one of the highlights of my week. Sigh.
Creative nights are planned for most other times - the art room beckons and so does my laptop. I prefer to write on a keyboard because I think through my fingers. Tap, tap, tap, like rain on the roof.
So, I've put it out there - the plan for this week.
If it's too dark or grotty to go running, I'll hit the treadmill at the gym.
Now I have to admit that my food intake hasn't been great. I've had this insatiable craving for boysenberry jam. No, I'm not pregnant!
Who knows why, but it's probably a sugar fix craving. From now on, we'll just leave jam off the shopping list and add frozen berries into the mix. They'll be defrosted, of course, and be tossed into my morning muesli.
There has to be some reason why I need boysenberries, so can't deprive myself totally. They are high in antioxidants, so that's got to be good.
So there it is - exercise, good berries and peace. Oh and that irresistable Kiwiana host.

The truth is out there

By Virginia Winder

We are not alone.

They walk among us.

OK, so I’m an alien movie and X File fan, but when I say “they”, I mean “we” and “us” changes to “you”.

Because the truth is we are out there – everywhere.  

Most people in society are touched by mental illness in some way.

Since last week’s blog, dozens of amazing people have contacted me to share their own experiences. Others have sent messages about having people close to them who have been unwell or still are.

Even more have given me thoughtful and compassionate feedback. I truly believe that people the world over are inherently kind and accepting, and that’s especially so here in Taranaki.

Those who talked of illnesses mostly mentioned depression, anxiety and that yo-yo inner world of bipolar. But there are people in this community who are living with schizophrenia and also thriving.

Oh but the things we learn on the way.

I’m fortunate enough to be enrolled in a mindfulness class through the Taranaki District Health Board.

Mindfulness is about living in the moment. It’s also about accepting people and situations without judgement and with an open mind.

Mindfulness is the “it just is” way of thinking without attaching good or bad thoughts to it.

In fact, it teaches us to think of the mind as a guest house where everyone is welcome. So, when bad thoughts appear in your mind, you invite them in and then let them go. Or you can imagine they are clouds and let them float by, along with the good thoughts.

You see, thoughts are just thoughts; they aren’t truth.

One of the best things about mindfulness is that it’s about focusing on right now and doing that to the best of your ability – like reading this! Or when you’re working, being absolutely intent on that and nothing else.

So if you’re working on a report or story, turn off your emails, switch your cellphone on to silent or aeroplane mode and give all your attention to writing.

It’s incredibly rewarding and work days just fly by.

Try doing it when you have coffee with a friend – focus solely on them and what they are saying. It’s an amazing experience living mindfully.

You can do that with exercise too by focusing on your breathing, your strides, your strokes and your pedal pushing. Break it right down to that smallest movement and try to do each one to the best of your ability.

I know that on midwinter days it’s so easy to curl up at home, pull the blinds and hide away from the world and the weather. I did that yesterday when it never stopped raining – I had a PJ day. It was lovely too.

But it’s not great training strategy, so I’m going to listen to Coach Clint who has shared the “rocks in the jar” concept.

The rocks have to go in first, then you can fit in the pebbles, then fill the gaps up with sand.

You can’t put the rocks in last because they simply won’t fit.

What he means is that you have to focus on running, biking and swimming first – they are the rocks. The pebbles are Pilates and gym work for core strength. The sand is stretching and yoga.

My sports massage therapist, Lauren Hann (an ironwoman herself), says consistency is the key. She says that for now, when it’s so horrible out there, just do a little often.

Get on the wind trainer for half an hour, or head to the gym for a short workout. Go for a short run in your wet weather gear.

Do these things every day to keep your fitness levels up, your muscles working and your mind alert.

Honestly, one of the best things in the world for mental health is exercise.

Lauren has given me my pep talk. Clint has given me rocks.

Now it’s time to forget PJ days and continue training, without fail.

It’s all down to me now.

Midwinter lost in polar madness

By Virginia Winder

I lost June.
It disappeared inside a gothic dungeon, one with endless dark corridors that echoed, on and on, inside my head.
The outside world disappeared and after a desperate session with a pyschiatrist, I was put on stress leave for two weeks.
But I couldn't stop; there were still stories to finish, deadlines to meet and I was desperate to get everything done; to be reliable so I could finally rest. I was also determined I wouldn't let my mind conquer me.
It didn't work.
One day, after swimming lengths at the aquatic centre, I came home and collapsed, mentally and physically.
That Thursday night a month ago, I called the mental health crisis team and was admitted to hospital with deep depression, plus I was no longer in touch with reality.
I stayed two weeks in Te Puna Waiora, the acute inpatient adult mental health unit at Taranaki Base Hospital. I slept and slept.
Slowly, my cracked mind began to heal.
"Depression is like cancer of the mind," the head psychiatrist said.
But I don't just have the downs. I also have huge highs; times of great euphoria, when I can take on the world and do.
I used to say "yes, I'll do that", "sure thing, I'll join your committee", "yes, I can do that job", "I can do that course". Yes, yes, yes.
Then I would crash and burn. I call it the drop zone.
You see, I have bipolar, a mood disorder that seesaws between manic highs and deep depression.
I was inititally diagnosed in 2006, after my first major mental crash.
But I promptly dismissed it and even convinced a pyschiatrist that I didn't need medication because the first one gave me jaw-clenching spasms. Then I went into complete denial and conveniently forgot the diagnosis.
Through the power of my own mind, I banished it, completely.
I bumbled along through the next few years, flying high and then nosediving. Up down, up down. I felt like I was going crazy - and I was.
In November last year, I was so desperate I asked to be referred back to mental health. The bipolar diagnosis was re-confirmed and I found myself on new medication. Inititally it worked. Then the seesawing of moods began again.
Exercise helped stabilise me. A brisk walk, a slow run, a long bike ride or lengths in the outside pool drenched with sun - these all lifted my spirits or burnt up the raging energy inside me.
Exercise was my saving grace during this tumultuous time.
Because, despite having a mental illness, I refuse, point blank, to let it stop me living life to the full.
However, it did stop me in June.
In May I became so manic that I didn't have a day off work. I worked for 31 days - at least - without a break.
Not surprisingly, my concentration began to fail and my mind turned into a giant jumble, then bang, I found myself in the gothic castle.
Imagine your mind so far gone that the outside world feels unreal and the "real world" is a dark dungeon, complete with corridors of ancient stone dripping with moisture. Adding to my internal misery, these corridors are a maze - there is no way out.
Looking back, I realise now that I was suffering from psychosis. Yes, I was psychotic. I have had one other episode, back in the 1990s, when I thought the BBC World News was put on just for my benefit and the news readers were talking directly to me, but this was the first time my mind landscape was utterly different from what I could see with my eyes.
It took about a week in hospital before the gothic castle receded totally and I was back in the here and now.
I got angry with everybody and everything, then slowly I calmed down and began to feel level again.
Only then could I start to absorb the literature given to me about bipolar and begin to understand why life has been so difficult for so many years.
And yes, I have finally embraced my diagnosis, because I know if I don't, I can't put tools in place to stay well. Denial is a disaster.
The hospital staff were amazing. The nurses were all caring, and one in particular taught me a simple to way to gauge my mood every day.

Look at a door, now imagine that the bottom is zero and the top is 100. What is your natural mood?
Because I am an outgoing person, naturally vivacious and colourful, my good place is between 60 and 70.
Anything above that and I am getting elevated and heading into the danger zone of mania.
On the down side, the lowest I can safely go is 40. Anything beneath that and I am heading towards depression.
As well as writing about exercise and my goal to complete a half-ironman in January next year (just six months away), I will be passing on tips about leading a balanced life. I won't be dwelling on my illness, but I won't ignore it either. Instead, I aim to be focused on wellness.
The strategies that work for me will, hopefully, resonate with healthy-minded people as much as those of us with a mental illness or experiencing a period of depression. Because I will tell you there is always hope and light to being well. Your depression won't last forever and on the way you will learn a great deal about yourself and come out stronger and wiser.
You can reach out and ask for help. People will listen and care. True friends won't judge you and those who do aren't bad; they just don't understand or are fearful of what they don't know.
It's here that I have to say that I don't feel anger or regret for having bipolar. It simply is.
Strangely, I also see it as a gift; one that allows me to feel life intensely - both the periods of despair and great joy. I could do without psychosis though, and I may never have another episode. But then again, I could.
British actor and writer Stephen Fry, who has bipolar, made a documentary about the illness and asked fellow sufferers if they wished they didn't have manic depression. Only one woman said she didn't want to have it. The rest would never give it up, simply because the elevated periods can be so amazing, the possibilities and ideas so incredible.
These periods can also be terribly destructive, but in today's blog post, I will stay as positive as possible.
I truly believe that although I have this mood disorder, it's not who I am. It's an illness and I am not my illness.
I am me. A mother, a wife, a friend, a citizen passionate about communties, sustainability, the environment, art, music and writing.
While I have my ups and downs, I have continued to work, to write story after story to the best of my ability. To teach, to mentor, to freelance and tackle many, many tasks. That will continue because, thankfully, I am high-functioning and know that even when times get tough, I still manage to produce work.
Also, I do my absolute best to be a good mother and loving wife. It's here that I have to say that having my husband, Warren, as my "safe place" and rock is a great help.
Still, it's bloody tough sometimes, but I refuse, point blank, to ever give up.
Plus I am an athlete in the making.
My journey to Mt Maunganui on 5 January 2012 is still on.
It's likely I might be fast walking the Taranaki Daily News Half Marathon in October, but yes, the Port of Tauranga Half is still a realistic goal, as is the Tinman (Olympic-length triathlon) in December.
Now it's time to get back on track because I've just got to do it!

P.S. Now you all know why Sir John Kirwan is one of my greatest heroes. He's also the inspiration for me "coming out" about having bipolar. Mental illness needs to be demystified and the stigmas have to go.
People needing help with depression can go on to JK's practical, inspiring and useful website, which includes a programme to join for direct daily help.
Other helpful links are:
Aware
Headspace
Mental Health NZ
Balance NZ
Samaritans NZ

Pedalling movies way to go

By Virginia Winder
Just biked through my first movie on a wind trainer.
My normal bike was set up in the lounge on a secure gadget that allows me to cycle normally, without moving. So I sat there watching Source Code, a 93-minute sci-fi thriller reminiscent of Ground Hog Day without the humour.
What a great way to train! I can choose whatever I want to watch because none of the family will want to be in there with me because of the noise.
Once again, it's the generosity of the extended Barnett family that's allowing me to do this. Bryce's son-in-law, Mick McBeth, has lent the wind trainer to me.
He gave me a free osteopath treatment last week too, before heading to the Olympics to look after the NZ triathlon team. I know it sounds like name dropping, but honestly, I'm still gobsmacked at the luck I've had on the way.
But it's all hard work from this end from now on.
Coach Clint has given me my training schedule and it is daunting, but doable, especially with the wind trainer and Contours gym at hand.
It's the dark, not the bad weather that's the problem. Biking is a bit scary because cars might not see me and I'm a bit paranoid about turning an ankle in a pothole or on a stone.
"Why don't you get night vision goggles, Mum?" suggested my helpful son. It's a thought. They wouldn't look any more ridiculous than the Batwoman sunglasses.
People are so helpful on this journey.
"You didn't mention sports bras for women in your story about running gear for half marathons," said Kelvin from Frontrunner on the phone. "We sell the best in the world."
Then he asked about my shoes. I mentioned about having plantar fasciitis and he said: "Bring in your old shoes and your new shoes, and we'll have a look."
He also said he'd look at my running style too.
Today I went to Lauren Hann for a sports massage and she was so inspiring. Not only is she a great therapist, she is also an ironwoman, who had so much advice to share.
We have already met actually and I mentioned her in an earlier blog. We chatted at the pool and I found her so encouraging, but I didn't know who she was then.
Lauren's advice today was that to reach a goal like a half ironman you have to be consistent with training and just keep going, steadily, regularly, day after day.
So I am.