I say this seriously because I think that it stinks that he’s about to lose the Tour de France due to a mechanical error; his arch rival overtaking on a hill when he was behind and saw the problem even though the convention is to show some respect by stopping to ensure a fair and honourable battle.

On the other hand, I can see why doper Alberto Contador did what he did. Desperate to win, and with the drugs or extra blood not quite helping him enough, he took advantage of an opportunity out of his opponent’s control, despite it being ne se fait.

William Fortheringham put it well in The Guardian:

Contador is held to have broken an unwritten law: you don’t attack your rival when he has crashed or had a mechanical.

With cycling’s image as an honourable sport being tarnished more and more over the years by dope, doping and dopers and allegations of all three being thrown around faster than a fan can sling dung, you’d think that the cyclists would at least try to protect the honour of the sport when the public is actually present to witness potential acts of cheating dishonour.

But, no. Apparently.

One thing I would really like to know is what Contador’s team managers were screaming to him through his radio earpiece at the time… “Go go go!” OR “No no no!” My bet is on the former, sadly.

I almost want Andy Schleck to go against convention and try to overtake Contador on the last stage into Paris…

What is unexciting is that the hip still is causing me grief, and it’s looking like a no-run situation for the remainder of 2010. Boo.

Three months (ish) on from my last post, I have a fabulous new dream job and am rehabbing my hip with doses of physio, cycling, swimming and (!) ultrasound-guided pilates.

Most natural runners tell me that the most important thing with running is to just get out and run. Unfortunately, most of us aren’t natural runners. I am one of those who has a whole lot of work to do before heading to the track, trail or road. Pity I didn’t find this out before wreaking a temporary armageddon on my body in the form of a marathon… Since the hip-hop (operation) I’ve found that I have no function on one side of my deep abdominals, and a whole lot of other interesting (read: annoying) issues that have caused my hips and knees to hate me. But the good news is with specific strength training, including this one-on-one physiotherapist wielding ultrasound pilates (the ultrasound lets the patient see what their muscles are. and in my case are not doing), things will get better.

I thought that somebody (if anybody still reads this thing) might find some of the tips and tricks that I’m learning useful, so here goes. (Be waned, however. This isn’t suitable conversation for polite company! It’s grotesque, bodily function laced runner talk!)

So here’s my first tip (courtesy of the medical professionals): Pelvic floor exercises are not just for girls. They are for runners of all genders and transgenders. Tense your pelvic floor muscles in the same manner in which you would hold in a fart. Seriously. Hold for ten seconds (and here’s the difficult bit) WITHOUT tensing your stomach muscles. This is very difficult, but essential in helping to activate and build the deeper abdominals responsible for holding hips and backs together when put under the strain of exercise. Try to squeeze the pelvic floor muscles upwards, almost feeling like you are pointing them to the middle of the top of your skull. You should feel them move backwards towards your sacrum (above the tail bone).

If anything, this piece of advice could save you hundreds at the physio. Try to do it ten reps, two or three times per day lying down with your knees bent at 90 degrees.

Enjoy

Will aim to post at least once per week and not have such ridiculous sojourns in future!

xo

Not really. I was just working in retail for the first time in, oh, over ten years.

Dr Ass Man feels like she’s run a marathon, is a more apt description of the week. My feet are swollen and throbbing. My body is tired. My muscles achy and sore. The only difference between a marathon and retail? I’m earning money instead of paying people to close a course which may or may not kill me.

Hopefully the stint won’t last too long. But the discount on handbags and luggage is excellent. So. Awesome.

I really need an ice bath.

(Sorry. Couldn’t resist a statement of “not” after watching Borat again the other night.)

The good news is that today I found a job. The bad news is that I’m pretty much back to my undergraduate days working in retail. I’m not thrilled. Although at least I won’t be left homeless for the time being, that is unless I lose my temper with a customer and get fired, or quit because of my recently untapped yet limitless supply of retail intolerance.

I know, I know. I am, in fact, grateful. My new boss appears to be a nice person, unlike the last one. (Devil woman. Evil. Evil. Evil.) Yet I can’t help but to be a little frustrated by the fact that even though I’ve spent the last bazillion years of my life at university and getting great experience in interesting jobs, on Monday I’ll be starting work at a handbag and travel goods store as an Ass Man Assistant Manager. Please note the caps in my title. And as a bonus, I’ll even let you call me Dr Ass Man after I get official word on my PhD.

So what does this have to do with running? Not much. But I guess it does mean I can afford to get that hip surgery I so desperately need. Thrilling.

Anyone who has ever told me that with my CV I’ve got it made is going to get a nasty letter from me. My arse the financial crisis is over. My arse.

I’m going for an angry, painful, hip-hating run now.

This blog was started to convey to everyone my love of running, but, quite frankly, I haven’t been the mood of late to keep up the positive exterior. I’ve been unemployed going on six months. Having never had any trouble whatsoever finding work, I’m tiring of the allegations of overqualification and no experience. I’ve started becoming paranoid that I’m being rejected because of my sex and the fact that I’m of prime childbearing age. Crazy? Maybe. Logical? Maybe. Who knows.

I’ve also been told I need hip surgery. Something that, even with my top level of health cover (for now, anyway) I can’t afford until I get a job. Fun. That rules out the Gold Coast Marathon, and will result in my pulling out of the triathlon next month. It’s hard to love running when you’re in pain, and I am in pain.

But despite all this, I genuinely feel like I have no right to complain. I don’t have the lot of a very close friend and flatmate who’s had two surgeries this year so far and was yesterday dragged off to hospital in an ambulance with a suspected stroke (she’s ok, relatively speaking), I’m not in a war zone, I have full use of my mental faculties. I’m very lucky. I still, however, feel very sorry for myself. I can’t run. Or, at least, I can’t run very far without quite intense pain. And ending the pain depends on my finding a job.

Don’t get me wrong; I still love running. But I just can’t do it right now. Physically, that is. I am ok, in a mental sense. I’m not going postal yet. I’m just a bit sad to see my friends moving on with their lives while all I seem to be doing is treading water, treading water, treading water, desperately trying to keep my head above water.

All I’m asking is that someone give me a chance. Soon.

It’s also been revoltingly hot and humid here in Brisbane, Australia. Not good running weather. Even the pool is not refreshing, feeling more like a tepid bath with bonus floating bandaids. Ew. I must, however, toughen up and start running again as soon as the hip surgeon gives me the go-ahead. I miss mah runnang.

But it is SO. DAMN. HOT. Milkwasabadchoice.

Until next time (soon, I promise!), read my article on page 25 of the latest issue of Dawn magazine.

Love

Running Budgie xo

Hope you found what you were looking for. Frankly, that sounds ueber painful.

Or maybe it would be less painful than the awful seat I have on top of my Most Lovely Bit of Carbon. After my long ride last Saturday morning, I was most definitely Feeling It. And IT HURT.

Fortunately, my riding buddy assured me that things would toughen up the more I rode. I’m not sure whether this just frightened me or just made me want to run more. These strange things don’t happen while running.

Ouch.

What I’ve found intriguing about the whole process, however, is how, er, sexually inclined some of the women’s bike saddles appear to be. Now I’ve seen those split male bike seats before (my ex was very protective of his Man Bits and absolutely loved the fact that his nuts didn’t hurt after a long day on the bike), but until now I didn’t realise that there were so many female equivalents.

The process of shopping for a Lady Bits friendly bike sddle reminds me of the SATC episode , where the following conversation took place between Samantha and an electronics salesman:

“I’d like to return this vibrator…”

“We don’t sell vibrators.”

“Yes you do. I bought it here six months ago.”

“That’s not a vibrator. It’s a neck massager.”

CJ and I have been having way too much fun looking at all the bike seats and deciding which one I should purchase. Our criteria generally extends to what I’ll call “enjoyment versatility” and sheer shock and awe value.

Here are some of the saddles we’ve discussed at length (indeed!) so far:

Exhibit 1: More cushion, less pushin’…

It’s not all about the length, you know.

Exhibit 2: Curvy comfort…

It’s all about the right, er, correct fit.

Exhibit 3: Long and lean…

Who are we kidding? The size ALWAYS matters.

As you can see, there are a wide variety of women’s bike saddles from which we ladeez can choose. It’s just a pity that I can’t try all of them them before I buy one… Cough.

Get your minds out of the gutter, people. We’re talking serious cycling equipment here. Or seriously talking about cycling equipment. Or something

My new Malvern Star Oppy C5.

Excuse me while I experience A Moment…