It Started... and it Ended
Cut for the sake of bandwidth

Cut for the sake of bandwidth
Running on a treadmill ... because you missed your spinning class start time by 5 minutes.... oh well.
So, you might remember me bemoaning the fate of my big toe's nail and how sorry I was feeling for myself. Oh, don't worry, I still feel sorry for myself... now its just because it is VERY uncomfortable running with that thing.
It wept with me as I was running and afterwards... my toe was STUCK to my shoe. On the INSIDE. Now imagine me pulling my foot from my shoe and finding that this is no good.
At least it looks better than it did previously, but I'd still like for my foot to just give it up and lose the nail already. There is no way I'm going to ask some quack somewhere to pull this one off me.
Peg-leg just laughs at me :)
So, the treadmill run. It was great. It was relaxing. And there was a teen next to me who thought that running at 10 mph was a great accomplishment. For all 2 minutes that he managed to do it before heading off to the weights again (not exactly sure whether he might've been doing a circuit type thing, but he didn't come back again in the whole time I was there, so I guess that'll be a mystery for the rest of the week), huffing and puffing and looking rather uncomfortable in general.
Maybe I'll be on time for my spinning class tomorrow and save myself having to run on the treadmill because I made the effort to drive out to the gym in the first place. That should be a whole other ton of fun :)
This morning at 5h30 Peg-leg phoned me from Frankfurt to remind me that this morning was garbage collection and ask me to put out the bin. By the time he had remembered last night it was far too late and I was already in my pjs and there was no way I was heading out the door, around the houses to the back of ours to get a bin and push it to the front of the house, so I only had myself to blame for having to get up so early.
So, I push this bin with about 4 weeks worth of garbage out and as I'm pushing, I think "this'd be a good morning to go for a run" Well. I should maybe just not have thought that. It jinxed me.
I got to the front of the house, positioned the bin and let it drop ... with my right big toe neatly in place for the back of the bin to grab hold of that toenail and flip it up in the air... while my toe stayed stationary.
With tears streaming out my eyes and blood streaming out my toe I wobbled my way back to the house before whimpering until I got to the plasters, wrapped my toe in one, hobbled up the stairs to the bedroom, grabbed a pillow and screamed like a pig being slaughtered (the neighbours at this point probably wondered whether I was being killed, but thankfully they did the British thing and didn't butt in) .
Then I phoned Peg-Leg for a bit of sympathy before texting my whole family to let them know that I was in the process of dying.
Utterz is the thing that has kept me busy for a few hours this afternoon as I tried to figure out the auto-mobile-cross-posting thing and then decided to give up before it became too late to go out for a 4 mile run. Which is the little widget in my sidebar where, if you so choose, a metallic female voice will read you out the last 10 posts I made to Utterz.
The run itself went well - apart from my lungs still feeling that tight feeling that you get after a bout of flu. It kept reminding me that I was coughing and spluttering away last week and every now and again I thought I was going to start coughing again, but thankfully that didn't happen.
Afterwards we rushed home for the semi-finals of Euro 2008 (heaven forbid we miss one match) and to a warm bowl of pasta, prepared by Peg-leg himself.
This coming weekend there is a run over a bridge... over the Humber Bridge near Hull and I'm considering heading towards that bridge on Sunday morning and handing in my entry form and give them some of my hard-earned cash and stating that I intend to cross that bridge because the time has come.
I woke up this morning and it felt like a good morning because (1) I could breathe and (2) I wasn't coughing up my lungs and (3) I didn't feel like I was stuck in the middle of the Namib desert and sweating like there was no tomorrow anymore. And I came to work and life is still good because I have yet to erupt in fits of coughing and spluttering and sneezing, although it seems I did a good job of handing out that virus to everyone at work because everyone sounds like me now!
Then the inspiration to look for some new running shoes struck me (<i>if only it was other shoes, but running it was!</i>) and I surfed the net on my keyboard and found the ideal pair... but they're not available anywhere near me! So I phoned the local running store and they said that they would be only too glad to order me in a pair and the day was saved!
Of course this means that there needs to be a little running in the future... and then I remembered that on the 5th of October I'm supposedly running the Great North Run in Newcastle which reminded me that I sent in my ill-or-injured form for the London marathon and panic erupted because the organisers said that if 'your cheque has not been cashed by the 23rd of June your entry got here too late' and mine hasn't been cashed yet! Even if I did send it in in good time... guess I can wait another 7 days in some form of hope and see what happens before I go into a flat panic and start looking for another March / April marathon.
But yes, that in short is what's been happening in my day so far... and I haven't lost it completely yet :)
For most of this week I've been coughing up my lungs, sweating like a pig and lying on my back in bed, wishing that someone would relieve me of my misery before the next coughing fit. And then I woke up this morning and realised that wasn't going to happen, so I finally got myself to work and sat there feeling sorry for myself until lunchtime. During the course of this ... coughing and sneezing ... I attempted to get to the reason why I'm feeling like this and I've decided that it is my pure dumb luck and the fact that I just try too much too soon on too regular a basis. And that I need to go back to basics. I keep battering my immune system and my body goes WOAH!!!! and beats me with a stick until I'm down so far that you'd think I would've learnt by now.
So, as soon as the latest little tid bit leaves me, I'll go back to basics. Do that novice program and let my body ease into things. Because obviously there is no way I'm ever going to actually START an event if I'm permanently feeling like I'm ill. But its so HARD!