A day of ups and downs

Who would have thought that I would bump into an old friend on the edge of town? As I approached a T-junction on the path, three cyclists appeared from the right.

Richmond, the front rider called out.

It was Gideon, who I had not seen for years. We caught up, exchanged some jokes and stories. It was a real booster.

I expected the day to go well.

From the other end my support Peck was on his bike, peddling from Cocking.

I think the terrain was a bit tougher than he expected. I imagined him gritting his teeth, pumping his long legs and listening to Test Match Special.

We met at Alan’s Coffee van.

Alan makes real coffee from the back of his transit. He also sells snacks not dissimilar from those you’d find at a ultra aid station. Turns out that Alan is an ultrarunner.

Then we found out that his name was Andrew.

Refreshed, I trotted off down the hill towards Cocking. Peck headed off towards Winchester. His plan was to cycle to the city, then turn around and head back to the van: our first rendezvous.

It was warm but I was sipping away at my water and Precision Hydration drink. I think perhaps this is where things may have been going awry. The sips may not have been enough.

My legs were feeling great inasmuch as I was not feeling them. The struggle of May seemed a million miles away. This was so very different. The pleasure of running returned.

Then…

I can’t remember the exact moment when things started to change. There was a shift of state.

Not feeling good is part of the journey. It is expected. You deal with it in different ways — I have a toolbox of strategies. Usually it is pain.

This time is wasn’t pain. It was waves of nausea. I had not had that before during a run.

One of my first actions when feeling bad is to have a nibble. It often works. Eating a morsel of food creates a different sensory experience: getting something out of a pouch, followed by the flavour and the texture are all useful.

Something changed for the better but I did notice a lack of saliva. I continued to sip. I continued to nibble. I continued to trot along. The trotting felt good.

The ease of running was gradually being replaced with increasing nausea. It was not going away. The water was fine, but the hydration drink I had to force down. The van seemed miles away, although on the map it was only a couple. Time and distance are easily distorted, so it is best to try and move your thoughts away.

I remember reaching the van with such relief. Still my legs felt fine, but I was rough. Flu-like tiredness, persisting nausea and just blaaagh. I decided to take a good break, take on some water, salt tablets and try some food.

The salt tablets may have helped. The water was going down but threatening to come back up.

I’ll have a nap, I thought. After all, I had been running since 9:15am and now it was early evening.

I dozed for fifteen minutes and woke urgently, thinking that I needed food. Let’s try some pasta – I’d made pesto pasta. It was like trying to eat small plastic toys. Chew, chew, chew, gulping swallow. Nausea.

I know that horrible feelings and perceptions come and go – nothing is permanent. So I decided to get going, believing that I would feel better soon.

I set off into the evening. The sun was just peeping over the hills, dyeing the sky with reds, pinks and oranges. Bumbling up the track, I checked in the with kids.

19k to Amberley. That’s fine I thought. A few hours.

This was the toughest part of the day. It was dark. I had a circle of light ahead via the head torch — just running and thinking. I knew it was part of the deal. This is one of the reasons for ultra running and one of the major obstacles to deal with.

It was becoming a real battle. The stream of thoughts occasionally interrupted by shadows, dark shapes, stars and occasional shuffles in the hedgerow. But the predominant feeling was nausea. There was an occasional stumble.

I continued to sip, just. I tried to nibble. But I could feel my energy dropping off with each step.

A text came through from Peck with an image of a camp set up at the rear of his van at Amberley station. He told me that the kettle was set up. Rooibos tea kept appearing in my mind – that’s what I wanted. It soon became an obsessional thought.

The relief on seeing the van was enormous. In my own thinking, that was it. I had no energy to carry on. Peck had other ideas.

Two cups of Rooibos later and I was feeling better. Still no food though. Peck offered me various things that were easy to get down, but my body was having none of it. Kendall mint cake could just about sit in my mouth and dissolve.

Following some banal chatting and memory sifting, there was a brief negotiation. I agreed that taking on the next stage was possible – a short 10k to Washington. By the way, my legs still felt really good at this point.

Off I went, back onto the Way.

I had already noted that the Ultra Challenge was going the other way. The luminous green markers hanging on fences and trees gave it away, together with the blackness punctuated by bobbing headtorches.

There is something warming about exchanging encouragement in the dark as I passed the walkers (the runners had long since gone by). A few thought I was going the wrong way.

The first few kilometres felt good. My energy was lifted. I was running up a hill without much effort. Soon enough this dropped off. The struggle resumed. I managed the occasional wine gum, but nothing else. Even water repulsed.

The route was familiar. I have run this part of the SDW many times, so the mist made no difference. Yet I was moving slowly. Very slowly. I am not sure how long it took to cover that 10k, but it felt like hours.

I arrived at the van parked near the church in Washington at about 230am. I knew at that stage it was the end of the day.

RS

Next up: dealing with the disappointment of a DNF and learnings

Almost time to go

In 24 hours I’ll be moving, probably very slowly, along the South Downs, nearing Eastbourne.

I have no idea how long this journey will take: Winchester to Eastbourne along the South Downs Way. There’ll be no records except my own.

Now it’s time for some breakfast before getting the pack on, and walking to the start.

The first rest stop is Cocking, 55k. Meanwhile, Chris my support crew, will be cycling back and forth between the van, me and various points, keeping me well supplied.

That’s all I am thinking about right now. Step by step. One stage and then onto the next.

The weather looks good, so I expect there’ll be plenty of walkers and runners along the way. Less through the night though…

On we go.

Hospice care

When you say hospice, most people assume that the care is for people with cancer. I did.

On hearing that nurses from a local hospice were visiting my dad, a question came my mind.

Did he have cancer? I knew that he had pulmonary fibrosis, which means that lung function gradually deteriorates. But was there something else?

The answer was no. The hospice team were doling their daily work, caring for people who are at the end of their life, whatever the reason.

I have worked in healthcare for my whole career — 28 years this month. Yet I had made the assumption that hospices exist to look after people who have terminal cancer. Why had I never considered end of life care to be for all?

That is what this short blog is about. Simply because I wanted to share the right message in case other people were thinking the same. And I know some are from the responses I have had when talking about my dad.

Taboo

Death and dying remain taboo in our society. There is much fear, mainly due to the unknowns.

We don’t talk about death as a part of life, despite it being inevitable for all of us. We will all experience the passing of people we know and love, and we will pass ourselves.

In some cultures, death is openly discussed and meditated upon to accept it as the cycle of life. In particular, Buddhism comes to mind. One of the tenets of Buddhist life is impermanence.

Impermanence refers to the fact that nothing stays the same. This is what makes life possible and can of course give great hope. For instance, no matter how you are feeling right now, it will pass.

Easing the discomfort of the discussion about death is possible by shifting the focus to living well. This is the view taken by Death Cafes that exist to widen our thinking and reduce the fear.

End of life care

Perhaps this is something we only consider when necessary. By the time it is, the importance is clear.

Each experience is unique. Everyone has their own set of needs and version of events.

Fortunately mine was positive. Having said that, losing a parent was surreal. The last few weeks and then days were accompanied by a knowing that the end was near, but never really knowing when. Time was suspended.

The one thread of consistency came from the hospice. The attention to caring, the frequency of contact with dad, and the little touches all made a difference.

Essentially, the staff use all their knowledge, skills and experience to make the journey as comfortable as possible. It sounds like a cliche yet what else would you ask for?

I became incredibly aware of the need for such care. I wondered how many people receive this attention? How many don’t? Everyone should.

This is the because, the reason for running the SDW this weekend (in just over 12 hours). Raising money is always a bottom line and I’m so grateful for all those who have donated so far. I know there is more to come too. We will exceed the target. But….

….there’s more

To me, what is more important is having this conversation. Raising the awareness of the work that the hospice staff do each day for people who need care at the end of their life, whatever the reason.

Raising awareness I think will result in more donations and funding as people will organically realise the importance. That’s my hope anyway.

If you agree, then you may like to support St Wilfrid’s, Eastbourne. Whatever you can spare would be much appreciated, a few quid, a tenner, £20, £50 or £100. It all helps.

See here for Richmond’s Just Giving page.

On the trail

I’ll be heading off from Winchester about 8/830am tomorrow morning. If you see me, give me a wave. If you fancy trotting along for a few miles, do.

On we go.

Tapering

I used to think tapering meant feet up, hardly any running and lots of eating for a week or so before the event.

Wrong!

For pro advice, you can read about tapering with coach David Roche here. For anecdotal experience, read on.

How I used to taper

I looked forward to the tapering week, sometimes two. Take it easy, occasionally run a few k’s. By a few I mean 3-4. So very little.

It meant a week or so of eating whatever I wanted. Awesome!

Days of sitting around, usually reading. That’s not so bad. There’s always something to learn.

But there was something that quite right. Reaching race day as I did in May this year, I felt heavy. Heavy legged.

My overall programme, which could be named hit and miss at best, was ending with a slothful period.

What was I thinking?

To put on a positive spin, it was a learning experience that has led to something much better.

How I am tapering now

Good training is sustainable training

David Roche

Tapering is part of the programme. With a measured, gradual approach to building fitness, speed, resilience, quality movement, stability and more, I have no need to spend a week or two resting to recover.

Been there…..

The week before SDW 100 miler, my training now looks like this:

  • Saturday: 20k easy on trails, hilly not steep. Run down hills with brakes off (building courage and skill)
  • Sunday: 10k easy + 4 x 30 sec hills (fast & smooth)
  • Monday: rest day, stretching/mobility, breathing
  • Tuesday: 10k easy, core/stability training
  • Wednesday: 8k easy
  • Thursday: 5k easy
  • Friday: 5k easy
  • Saturday: SDW

Feeling rested, ready, and relishing the opportunity to hit the trail next Saturday.

Now that is tapering.

Daily practices

Several times a day I stretch with micro practices dotted through the day – balance, stretch, mobilise, massage gun, roll, yoga pose, mindful breathing.

Most days I will sit and meditate. Other days are micro meditations of a few minutes. I am lucky because I get to practice with people most days as well in the clinic when we look at different ways to change state, create calm and clarity to help overcome persistent pain.

Walking. I walk everywhere.

Standing. At home I stand to work. In the clinic, I get up and move around often as a matter of course.

Our mind’s are embodied. Thinking emerges from the body state and the body state can depend upon what we are thinking. There really is no separation. We have just the one experience.

Hence, movement is a fundamental part of being at our best.

Upandrun.

Onwards.

RS.

PS/ If you would like to support the work of St Wilfrid’s Hospice, please donate here. We are over half way to the target, so your help is much appreciated.

The team looked after my dad and us so well in his final days. To help them continue this vital end of life care is so important to our society.

Thanks

Easy running

I would never have imagined that a monk would teach me to run.

Over the past three months or so, following my DNF in May, I have been getting it together by following a training programme.

This was a programme put together by record breaking ultrarunner Damian Hall. He bases much of his coaching on the approach by David Roche. David is a great advocate of easy running — you can run as easy as you like.

Easy running makes you quicker. Didn’t you know? I am not going to explain to you how, because David can here.

I can tell you that it works from my own experience.

I was pretty broken after two years of non-stop ultras. The pushing, straining, mile after mile initially worked, but the stress on my body caught up. You can’t keep going at that intensity without something giving. I see these folk in the clinic — the ones who are stuck.

So easy together with consistent and regular movements, stretches, stability and strength with have built me a base. What’s more, it has brought the joy back and the confidence to keep going. Perfect timing too with the SDW 100 miler next Saturday.

Thich Nhat Hanh

A great advocate of mindful walking, Thich Nhat Hanh encourages us to slow down, be in the here and now and cultivate a peaceful way.

I used to try and practice mindful running, but somehow had put this way to the back. Instead, I became over-focused on the feelings in my body and trying to work them out. This was part of the reason for the DNF. It is unsustainable because every little ache and pain becomes amplified.

Together with the easy running, I thought I would listen to Thich as I trotted along. To be able to listen to someone or a podcast whilst running means that your pace is easy — not stressful.

Thich guides many meditations, but the one I was listening to resonated. It also worked in as much as I became calmer and calmer, running relaxed and easy. Perfect!

This is the kind of practice I share with people who come to see me. Most if not all benefit from creating a calmer embodied mind having been dealing with many different challenges at the root of their suffering. Persistent pain in particular and the consequences.

The beauty of the practice is that it is so simple. Whilst it may not be for all runners, if you are someone who wants to master the easy run to become quicker, you may find it helpful.

Here are the words. I will share a recording soon.

Try this if you like.

The practice

Run easy, which means with flow, smoothness and upright, using your body as a guide — no strain. Notice your breathing, but do not try to change it or control it. One way is to place your attention at the end of your nose and become aware of the air flowing in and flowing out.

With your awareness now upon the flow of your breath, silently say to yourself: breathing in, I am aware I am breathing in. Breathing out, I am aware I am breathing out. The shorten to breathing in, breathing out.

This brings your attention to your breath in the here and now. If your mind wanders, simply start again. This is a practice.

Some people enjoy the presence and rhythm that this brings, somehow becoming part of the overall movement of running.

A further mantra that I use to remain present and at ease is: breathing in, I calm my mind. Breathing out, I run easy. Then shortened to calm mind, easy running.

Of course, you can create your own as well. Choose words that give you gentle direction that you can follow.

Notice what happens.

Let me know if you like. I’d love to hear.

Next time, some thoughts on nose breathing — because that is what it is there for.

Happy running!

RS

PS/ If you are up on the South Downs Way next Saturday-Sunday and see me or want to join me for a few miles, let me know. I am running to raise £ for St Wilfrid’s Hospice in Eastbourne and in memory of my dad: https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/richmond-stace11

Self-care for physio students

I have long thought that there should be a self-care module within physiotherapy training. Here is why.

Physiotherapy is arguably the best job in the world. Once qualified there are so many choices and ways that you can take ownership and forge a way forward.

I believe that there is a universal desire to contribute within the profession: to help people improve their lives and make it a better world. This in itself is healthy and helps build wellness. The latter is where we can make a real difference as we encourage, empower and enable individuals to shape positive futures — because they can.

There’s a but.

All this focus on helping others requires a strong sense of self and an absolute need for self-caring.

If you want to care for others, you must start by caring for yourself

#thepaincoach

There is a good chance that a number of therapists will be great empathisers. They will can can feel similar emotions and even pains described by others. There is a reverberation through their own embodied minds, which in time can cause stress responses and anxiety if not recognised — empathetic distress.

In one sense empathy is a gift that allows connection and understanding. Uncontrolled, this can lead to burnout. The answer to this appears to be cultivating compassion, which is boundless. There is an outlet in compassion that is a desire to help — taking action. When we take action there is a kind of release as we feel a sense of control and destiny with our chosen way of helping the person. (Whether they want our help and the kind of help we offer is another question! This is one of the skills of being a therapist).

A common way to practice compassion is with metta, or the loving kindness meditation. We develop our understanding and acceptance of ourselves, accepting that to take care of ourselves is the first step in caring for others.

Person-first. Always

This sits well with the person-first approach: person before patient. Certainly when it comes to pain, it is the person that feels pain, not the body part. We guide and encourage a person, not a body system or a limb. Zoom out.

The more the focus is on the place that hurts, the worse the outcome for a number of reasons: e.g./ attention and expectation play significant roles in pain perception. The more the focus is upon the person and what they want to achieve in their life, the better the outcome.

Each person has resources, knowledge, strengths and the potential to improve their lives. This is the start point, not a list of problems to solve.

It is the same for the therapist of course. A person with all the above.

Building wellness

How do you build yours each day?

To care for others we need to be well. Daily skills and practices that manage and lift our energy, help us to pay attention, maintain a positive outlook will keep us on a healthy path.

These are habits. Many are the same ones that we encourage the people we work with to create.

When I used to run Pain Coaching sessions for clinicians and therapists, we always start with you: ‘know thyself’. There is nowhere else to start. You have to gain insight into who you are, how you think and what you offer. From there you can build and be the architect of a fantastic career.

There are many ways to build wellness. The more obvious include exercise, moving your body, eating and sleeping well. There are more.

Connecting with people who encourage you, getting out into nature, knowing your purpose, breathing and being present more often.

As a start, I have created an infographic that you can use in your own way (download above).

My hope is that we see universities and colleges increasingly include self-care in the syllabus. Some methods and techniques are now outdated and should move aside, making room for the important practices. In my view, there is none more important that making sure therapists feel supported and that they are developing a strong sense of who they are as healthcare professionals.

Training is a huge investment, both personally and for the state. Surely then, we must ensure that the people undertaking this enormous commitment come first and are cared for by teaching them how they can care for themselves.

University lecturers and leaders, I am here to chat.

RS #thepaincoach

upandrun 21

Brick Richmond from Brickrunners

Back on the trail tomorrow for upandrun 21

Tomorrow is my birthday. My present to myself is to run from home to where I was born for upandrun 21.

21 is not my age.

The idea came from the Pegasus Ultrarunning guys. They have created an Ultra Marathon Birthday Hall of Fame.

Of course, the primary purpose is to raise awareness of the problem of chronic pain that besieges so many people across the globe.

It is also to share hope as our knowledge and understanding of pain advances at a rapid rate. As a result we can help people shape positive futures.

Further, ultrarunning is a way to experience one’s own pain and learn — blog here.

The route

It is a mixed bag. A good amount of the trail will be along the South Downs Way as I head from Ditchling Beacon to Eastbourne.

From there I will find my way along the coast to Hastings, where it all began. I don’t remember that day, but I know it happened.

The distance will end up around 80k I would suspect. Time? No idea. I always get that wrong.

One of the beauties of heading off on a long bimble is the loss of a sense of time. I often have no idea of the hour. There is only this moment. Truly present.

As ever, pics will be on social media.

Instagram | Twitter | Facebook

RS

ultrarunning to understand pain and share hope

Heading off to the Menai Bridge for September upandrun

There is a purpose for my ultrarunning, and it is mainly to share hope.

You may have seen the tagline I was using for the September upandrun: ‘ultrarunning to understand pain and share hope’. Here is why.

Ultrarunning to understand pain

Running for long distances means being on your feet for hours, moving along. On the journey, you discover much about yourself — you find out what is under the hood.

Under normal circumstances, we use our resources to deal with challenges as they arise. Life is full of uncertainty (more than certainty), twists and turns. That is the way.

What we can do is to focus on controlling the controllables. What can we control? Our approach and attitude.

Suffering comes from the way that we think about any given situation. Prior to this, it is merely a situation. This has long been realised by philosophers and others.

Life is a journey — cliche yet true. How do you approach the journey? How do you deal with things when they don’t go your way? The style that you use will determine whether you see it as an opportunity (to learn) or an obstacle?

Ultrarunning is the same. You set out on a journey that will be full of unknowns. When you are trotting along and feel great, it is wonderful. What about when you are in pain, feel sick, are hit with fatigue and hunger and thirst and more? How do you respond? How do you keep going?

Sunrise from the Little Orme

The concept of the pain cave describes the place you can go. It is dark.

But, there is ultimate learning about oneself in the pain cave to the point that many embrace the experience.

Pain is inevitable on an ultra.

You become your own experiment (n=1) as you examine your perceptions and thoughts shaped by the very actions you are making. When you change the way you move, your thinking changes — embodied cognition at work. Thoughts are very much grounded in the state of our body, and the state of our body is determined by the focus of our attention. Expectations also play a significant role — we see the world that we expect to see.

As inevitable pain emerges, the opportunity arises to closely examine the sensations and how they change. Different perspectives and different language all shape the experience. Noticing a shift in running pattern, perhaps leaning forward or the head dropping, one can lift and be taller to notice the change in perspective.

What is the story I am telling myself in these moments? If I alter the words, what happens? I notice how attached I am to that particular narrative and how easy or hard it is to let it go. Bringing my purpose to mind, or a loved one and there can be a sudden transformation of state.

Heavy moments are normal. Body, legs, head suddenly feel like sacks of wet sand — have you ever tried to move one? But you know that this will pass, like all perceptions. Nothing is permanent. This insight alone pulls me back from the mire of thoughts.

Our perceptions and bodily sensations are dynamic — always changing. Life is not static, instead fluid and moving onwards. It is the story that stays the same. The one we have been conditioned to believe is true.

Then you realise that there are infinite stories and possibilities. Freedom.

Ultrarunning teaches you about freedom.

I can examine my own experiences under duress and elucidate my resources my journey continues. The finish line is of course the beginning of the next.

Sharing hope

My message is one of hope.

Both the knowledge of pain and what we can do to guide, support and encourage people to live fulfilling lives has grown enormously.

We have much better answers to the questions (start here):

  • what is pain?
  • why do we feel pain?
  • what is the purpose of pain?
  • what can we do to improve our lives?

Many of the strategies, practices and techniques to transform and overcome pain are taken from the skills of being well, peak performance and strengths based coaching. Over the past 10 years or so, I have called this Pain Coaching.

There is a simple principle. The more you focus on the pain and try to treat it, the worse the outcome. The more you focus on the person and how they want to shape their life, the better the outcome.

Focus on what you want, not what you don’t want. As soon as you are saying, ‘I don’t want this pain’, we focus right back on the pain.

Instead, re-focus on your picture(s) of success and the steps you can take right now in that direction. This is an approach and an attitude. You will need some help, it will be up and down, but

There is great hope for many. This is my message.

RS

Conversation with Adharanand Finn

I first met Adharanand in 2019 when I went on a writing and running retreat in Devon that he was co-hosting with Richard Askwith.

We kept in touch.

A few weeks ago I took the opportunity to whizz down to Dartmoor for a one day running camp: The Way of the Runner. This time it was co-hosted by Adharanand and Barefoot Joe. It was a great day, as I expected.

As we said farewell, getting ready to head home from the car park, we mooted the idea of a conversation.

And here it is. Eau naturale. Anecdotes about and idiosyncrasies of ultrarunning.

Enjoy.

Recovery

Having a break with Jeff @ 90k

Recovery is part of the journey

Much is said about recovery. This is largely because there is no single way to recover after a run. Each person must find what works for them: the art of recovery.

I’ll share some brief thoughts in the form of top tips, off the back of September’s upandrun along the North Wales Path. But, bear in mind what I have just said about the individual nature of recovery.

1. Recovery stops during an ultra

When I run, I now always opt for normal foods rather than gels and the like. This can include any of the following, depending upon the stage of the run: fruit, pasta, sweets, ginger beer, nuts, seeds, flapjacks, a bagel, samosa, coffee, water.

On the longer runs, rest and recovery stops are important for me. On solos, they are fairly brief, but nonetheless, there is relief in sitting down for a few minutes and having a bite to eat.

This is in keeping with my running philosophy that is just for me: finish line, not finish time. I want to fully experience the journey, enjoying the ride as much as I can. There is no rush for me. I am not interested in times, instead just building my belief that ‘I can’ in life.

2. Immediately at the end of an ultra

I enjoy a pizza and a beer.

The most memorable was ending up in Bath one evening, having run down from Gloucester along The Cotswold Way. It had been a pretty foul day and off the back of a period of serious rain in the UK. You can imagine the state I was in….

They were most welcoming in Pizza Express despite my appearance. I was served quickly. Looking back, this may have been so that I left promptly!

3. Recovery takes a little while

The things you do to recover span a period of time. It is an on-going process until you feel back to normal: homeostasis is the goal.

Choose your fuel and sources of hydration according to your needs. It can be a bit up and down after an ultra.

For instance, I will feel hungry and eat. Then feel a bit queasy. And then hungry again and so on.

Whatever you do to recover then, be complete and see it through. This could of course include all of the elements I discuss.

4. Sleep

This might just be the most important one.

Understanding sleep as arguably the keystone of wellness, creating a good habit is vital for recovery and performance at all levels of participation.

Unfortunately, in the modern era, sleep has taken a back seat. For some reason, a lack of sleep has been championed as some kind of machismo feat: I can work for 23 hours a day….how incredible am I? I can be out all night and then carry on….

But it is not. What that is, is a one way ticket to poor performance and health. And probably a shorter life. There are some brutal facts. But we know that people don’t always like to pay attention to the facts.

Bottom line. Try to get the best quality sleep (7-8 hours) as many nights as you can.

5. A special ingredient

When we pay attention, we can realise that there might just be one ingredient that makes a difference. On that, I have made a recent discovery.

CBD oil and balm.

Having had a good chat with Celine from Wholy Me, I was happy to try the drops and balm as part of my daily routine and recovery.

Acknowledging that it is a case study of one, me, I have been taking the drops each day, and massaging the balm as required into sore bits.

I finished the ultra on Monday evening, having started the previous night at 1030pm. My watch told me that I had been going for 18 and a half hours, covering some 120k.

It was time to recover.

Yesterday I was running again, albeit an easy pace and concentrating on form. I like to do this anyway: a slow run (speaking pace), focusing on being relaxed and tall.

I am fortunate to recover seemingly quickly after an ultra. Perhaps because of my monthly jaunts since May 2019.

But this appeared to be quicker than ever. Was it the CBD routine? One cannot say for sure. Expectations also play a significant role, and I do expect to be moving almost normally by day two.

So, I will continue with the CBD as part of my daily rituals alongside other habits: cold shower in the morning, various supplements, mindful practice, movement, attendance to fuel and hydration, and sleep to name a few.

For it is the small things behind the scenes, accumulating their effects each day that make the difference.

Just in case you are wondering, I do believe that the CBD is making a difference to me.

6. Bonus: motion is lotion

Keep moving.

It is tempting to stay still and rest. But it is movement we need to nourish the muscles, joints, nerves and more.

Easy movements, getting up, changing position, trying to maintain best form, and being regular are all important for recovery.

They are also vital day to day because the way we use our body will shape its form. And it is that form you take into running and other activities.

If you sit for long periods, parts of your body will tighten. You will then try to move those parts vigorously in sports causing adaptation and excess strain. This is one of the major reasons for the gradual onset of pain and sensitivity.

The body also keeps a record of every emotion and experience you have. We must look after ourselves as a whole if we want to perform.

RS