Injury

I've just come back from my usual 5 mile run on a Sunday, an hour after breakfast and an hour before a bacon sandwich - wholemeal bread of course. 

Oh wait, that was a dream. I'm sat on the sofa, an hour after breakfast, an hour before lunch, watching the X Factor in my "loungewear".

I would have gone for a 5 mile run if I wasn't injured. 

My first physio appointment was 8th August - a month after I jolted my hip running over uneven ground through fields - I havn't run since 10th July - I know, you can cry for me if you want. 

Derby 10k for Cardiac Risk in the Young

Everyone who knows me knows that I run everywhere - I'd even started to like treadmills! I've ran for my school, my area and even attempted x-country for Derbyshire - that ended well. NOT. Running is my way of "releasing" - gay - like Beyoncé loves the sea - I love running, listening to some dance tunes easily makes you run faster. Running (According to Women's Health magazine) is better for you than swimming as it burns more calories per hour - people just prefer swimming because everyone thinks its easier and doesn't require too much effort for a leisurely swim - erm, God made us with legs, were not fish - therefore it is more natural to run! Plus I always think about the Kenyans who had to run hundreds of years ago to deliver messages and they'd just keep running and Forest Gump! he ran and he ran and he ran and he just kept on running. I don't think about the poor Salmon who have to swim to lay their eggs - get me? 

So, no running for well over 2 months now and its horrible. My right femur bone jolted into my hip joint causing the bursa (capsule of fluid to cushion the joint) within the ball and socket joint to inflame - so much so I could barely put any weight onto my right leg it was so painful - I couldn't move my foot from the accelerator to the brake due to the minuscule rotation required from the hip joint - I know. 

Weirdly, I've already had an injury like that last year when I fell off a bike (yawn, sorry for all the people who have heard this story a million times!) I landed on my elbow and my humerus (haha) jolted into my shoulder joint and actually burst the bursa (bursitis) which left me paralysed in my right shoulder for about a month - I had one arm for everything, had to brush my teeth with my right arm and couldn't go back to work for ages as I couldn't put table cloths on tables - nightmare - and the scars to this day are red raw - ouch. I'm so injury prone!

So I've been given hopping exercises for my 4th physio session (OW OW OW OW OW) - I've not been doing any impact till now and oh my life I'm in pain! And then he said 5 weeks he MIGHT discharge me - so that will be over 3 months with no running - aaand I'm part of my University athletics team - this should be interesting - cross-trainers just aren't the same. 

After the Middlesbrough 5k for the British Heart Foundation

Everyone who has had an injury that has caused them to stop training for a long period of time (I'm not talking a poorly pulled hamstring that heals in a week, I'm talking burst fluid capsules and injuries needing steroid injections or surgery!) will totally understand you just sit there like "I could be running now, coming back and thinking 'why did I go that fast' ahh! because I know I'm getting faster and better and stronger!" but currently I'm getting slower and weaker! - not totally true I guess I've been doing arm and core strength but leg strength and speed will take probably 2 months to get back after I start training again. 

I have had many injuries in my time - shin splints (still won the area 800m though didn't I!), pulled Achilles heel and soleus, metatarsal problems ahh the list continues with random pulls and tears after training that stick out like a hernia - niiiiiice - all part of sport! And its so amazing to see your body recover and get back to your routine - Thats whats holding me together! 

I can imagine a lot of people are like "its just running!" - but when its something that is your life it means everything - err listen to me. 

At least I can still wear heels (and endure the pain the next day in my hip!) 

You'll heal - I'm a prime example, it just requires patience. 

love, stay safe and warm up well! 

RHS x 

In which I am completely pampered

"Don't fall asleep. Ruth, do NOT fall asleep" - my thoughts as I received my rose cocoon massage listening to sweet string music and inhaling the incredible fragrance of rose and lime. 

I said the same to myself as I received my scalp massage which was so incredibly blissful I definitely fell asleep.

It had been planned for months, my mother and I to go on a spa day two days before I went away and the day finally arrived. 

The place is Owl House Day Spa in Diseworth, Derbyshire - and oh how incredible. We were greeted by a stunning entrance hall and pleasant receptionists who showed us to the "Owl Nest Cafe" (aw) where we were offered herbal tea and fruit juices (no coffee! - no caffeine allowed I can imagine!). We filled in a long consultation form that asked us everything from whether we were depressed, excited or had a headache to why we were at the spa. 

'Powder room'

We were given a robe and slippers for the day and had an hour to kill before our first treatment (oh there was plenty to do), we found a quiet room (all beautifully labelled on the doors), there are several where you can relax and wait for your treatment and read a magazine (where we enjoyed a glass of champagne and a slice of cake, yum), or there is a courtyard with a hot tub and day beds (they were my favourite!). An hour later we were taken to our first treatment. Rasul. 

A.K.A. "Pig In Mud" - 

We had our bikinis on and we scrubbed ourselves with a mixture of sugars and essential oils (a lot of scrub! - we just kept slathering!) and were left in a herbal steam chamber (looked like an alton towers ride by the look of the chairs!) for 20 minutes then we showered to remove all the oils and my skin still feels incredible and soft. 

I find it very hard to relax and the chilled out atmosphere displayed by all staff was so refreshing and made it very easy for you to unwind and relax. 

We then had separate treatments, I had a rose cocoon where I was smothered in rose oil (smelt like an English country garden!) and wrapped in the cloths for half an hour whilst I received my head and scalp massage where rose oil was massaged into my scalp (great if you have any scalp issues like dermatitis or dandruff!). I was then "brought round" (I definitely felt like I'd been hypnotised!) with a tissue sprayed with lime oil -mmmm. 

Wear a bikini and avoid mirrors! 

Afternoon Tea Time! We sat out in the courtyard and enjoyed salmon and cucumber, ham and mustard and brie and cranberry sandwiches followed by scones, brownie and lemon cake. All washed down with a cup of tea and raspberry and rose water 

It was then time to leave - we had no idea what time it was because we took our watches off and the spa is strict on 'no clocks anywhere' - we'd been five hours! - where it had gone I do not know! 

We left the spa feeling happily rejuvenated and would love to go back to use the hot tub, relive the Rasul experience and try another treatment - and just enjoy lying on the day beds reading. 

The spa caters for everyone from mums to be (there was a very-ready-to-be mummy there) to hen parties. I know where I'll be going for my next birthday treat!

Happy relaxing

RHS x

What the North has taught me

As a country bumpkin in the heart of Derbyshire ("There is no finer county in England than Derbyshire" - Miss Bingley, Pride and Prejudice - yes I went there)  going to the outskirts of Middlesbrough for University was rather a scary thought - but amazingly exciting - I'd always wanted to live in a city - I thought. 

Ahh how to talk about Middlesbrough - the locals are friendly, one once told me where Topshop was (how nice!) ... I'm sure there's more things... 

Anyway... I've lived there for a year now and am currently back in Derbyshire (or London, where some people believe I live - I'm just far too posh darling) and I've been thinking about what I have learnt from the North because I can assure its definitely a learning curve going to another part of the country. 

For example:

Nights out in Newcastle

The Quayside - Newcastle

"Why are you wearing flats? We're going to Newcastle - GO AND CHANGE YOUR SHOES!" - standard conversation several seconds before boarding a taxi to Newcastle. 

Never EVER EVER wear flats to Newcastle - unless you want to blend in with the students and ugly people - that's what I was told. 

Students (I am told) stand out in Newcastle on first arrival - they are white (people in Newcastle look like slight relations to South Americans, or that popular fizzy drink... ah, Tango), they wear flats - deary me, poor souls they don't stand a chance. 

There's a saying in Newcastle "go high or go home" - After one treble in Bijoux I'll pick home please #lightweight 

Getting ready for a night out 

(this is entirely what I have learnt + some added because I'd missed "loads" out) 

It takes me about 2 hours to get ready for a night out (from shower - changing my flats to heels).

Only 2 hours because THANKFULLY I was blessed with that natural fake tan that renews itself like, every day really. I have a constant tan - weird I know. 

2 hours - I got laughed at, when at about 7pm the night before we were due to go out I couldn't find several of my friends because they'd already started prep. 

26 HOURS BEFORE WE WERE DUE TO LEAVE - I kid you not. 

The schedule for a night out (I believe this is an extreme, depends how much (many) you want to pull - I should have quoted that, I didn't say that) 

Friday Night (going out on Saturday night)

1. Shower
2. Hair
3. Tan 
4. Blow dry hair (upside down - make it BIG!)

(my friday night would have included going to the gym so I could wear a crop top on the Saturday night - then potentially watching Love Actually with Ben and Jerry - old friends, not the ice cream - obvs)

Saturday Morning (were getting there) 

1. Shower (I'm guessing watch tan go down the drain to leave a golden goddess - hmm)
2. Put on more tan (South American - Tango)
3. Go into town to buy a new dress (about midday apparently), buy new shoes.
4. Get nails done - full set of acrylics (who said the North was cheap?) 
5. Bye 2 sets of eyelashes (after all, who wants to see your eyes anyway? - its dark) 

Saturday Evening (I'd be having a nap if I had done this much on a Saturday yawn)

1. Shower (do not get hair wet! - friz was never in fashion)
2. Get dressed
3. Tan on face (Tango - down right there is no colour to give you any hints at what colour) 
4. Foundation (Tango-pasty?!)
5. Bronzer - And I mean a lot (Tango - mad colour - pasty - glittery bronze) 
6. Always a smokey eye (to cover the eyelash glue) 
7. Straighten hair and curl (I'd recommend a sturdy heat protection spray) - but no poodles please
8. Backcomb hair - "must be poofy" 
9. Must wear heels (here we go again) 

Are we ready to go yet? - jeez.

Were finished. Moving on...

Phrases - a.k.a. another language 

When I asked my friends what they learnt from the North, general answers included free drugs (oh dear), the accent (or complete new language) and "mums on tour" - think we got a bit side tracked. 

Anyway, wow the accent. HAHA, I thought learning French was difficult but this is like crazy to understand. 

"Why aye" - did I spell that right? - this means... actually I have no idea what this means, sorry. 

Bijoux - with a local Geordie (and friend!)

- one treble too many.

"Flanter" - this is flirty banter, usually with the opposite sex and you don't know you're doing it but everyone else notices - surely not!

"Shanter" - this is sh*t banter, if you need any tips on Shanter just ask me, I'm the best at it haha. 

"How way" - was that spelt right? - this means like "come on" or "come on man" - Geordie's say "Man" a lot - even to a girl, I was really shocked at this behaviour.

AND. 

this is the best they say "Master" like "maRster" but "Bath" is just "Bath" not "baRth" - freaks I tell you - best to avoid the Geordie in their natural habitat. 

Other things you need to know

Do not go to Goldies in Stockton on Tees, unless your name begins with a G and ends in reg. Its full of "dirty old women" - Wait, just don't go to Stockton-on-tees in the first place - good idea. 

A Parmo is great if you want to die of coronary heart disease precisely 5 hours after eating - Ok, I've not seen it happen, YET anyway. There are only some places that make the best Parmos - or its best to ask LB to make you one. Its chicken (sorry, "chicken" with béchamel sauce and cheese, like a lot of cheese...)

So far the best takeaway we have found is Malones in Middlesbrough (they do the best cheeseburgers! and Pizzas - yes I actually had half a pizza after one night out, I spent 2 hours in the gym the next day and could still notice I'd eaten it.)

The boys love themselves (boys, never lads in Newcastle), love themselves sometimes too much. I believe they are called "spice boys" because they are cinnamon sweet. haha, no they pluck their eyebrows and probably use an eyebrow pencil and have more fake tan on then girls and wear the lowest cut tops I have ever seen - I have to look away, far too much skin on show.

Durham Cathedral and Castle - a beautiful part of the North East

Never go to Sam Jacks in Newcastle, ever, even if you're a boy I really wouldn't recommend it. I was warned and walked in, my eyes were horrified I was stuck to the spot and just about managed to sprint back out - never to look back. I'm still recovering. 

Ahh the North East, my second home (although the Dr's surgery is adamant its my first home, hmm not sure how I feel about that). A different culture to what I know here - as Daisy (our cow) looks at me from the field, waiting to be milked and Mary the sheep sleeps and Lady Gaga the Rabbit digs a burrow (which do you believe?) - but definitely a culture in its own right and the people are very friendly! 

Southerners should give it a try before they buy - they could probably buy Newcastle with their monthly income. 

IF THEY WERE A BILLIONAIRE HAHAH. 

its a great place! 

Happy travelling and Geordie-ing 

RHS x 

p.s. Dinner or Lunch?

 Lunch, agreed? agreed.