
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!
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That's a bit what I've felt like this past week. Overwhelmed and tired and generally grumpy ... but that's at an end now because I finished that little piece of work that has had me bashing my head on the table and got me smiling while on the treadmill because it felt like I was running away from it for just that little bit of time.
Peg-Leg's been in London for the past week on an Oracle course that should make him more valuable to his company, but they'll no doubt fight that statement with every breath in their bodies until he leaves and they're forced to bribe him to come back because of the fact that (even now), they can't manage to find anything on their systems because
Training this week has been up and down.
Monday evening I biked and did some cardio at the gym (staying off the dreadmill for a bit) by rowing and using the x-trainer and various other machines they have stationed across the room. I actually quite enjoyed that - the a/c was just that little too hot and that meant that I had sweat pouring off me by the end of the session. Of course, I forgot to open the door at home when I got on my bike and ended up losing enough liquids to make me thirsty for the week to come :) Tuesday afternoon I headed back to the gym and ran on the treadmill for almost 4 miles while listening to my angry music (not really angry, but a small boy that was walking at 1mph on the treadmill next to his mom thought that it was angry music) and once again enjoying the fact that I was working up a good sweat.
Last night I had a planned supper with friends, so that became my weekly day off and tonight I'm heading onto some of the trails near our house to get some running done before I may or may not get back onto that bike...
Of course, being alone at home helps to get into the swing of things, but its been a relatively fun week. I hate being alone in the house at night, because I've become used to certain sounds of someone else being there and now that it isn't, paranoia-supreme has struck. I lie in bed and see shadows (the trees casting their shadows) moving and my heart rate goes up a few beats. Then I turn over and the bed creaks... another thing that makes me jump. Then PL sends me a text and I'm just about read to grab a rolling pin and go through the whole house to make sure that there is genuinely no-one else there but me.
Yes, paranoia like there is no tomorrow.
Thankfully PL is back tomorrow evening... and I'll get my rest again.
While writing this, I was listening to "I Wish I Was a Punk Rocker (With Flowers In My Hair) [Radio Mix]" by Sandi Thom
What an awesome long weekend. Today being a public holiday in the UK, I was keen to lie in this morning and woke up to the sound of strong winds attempting to blow down the trees next to the house. I love days like that. Even though I do prefer the sun and warm days. But today was different. And I was enjoying waking up and feeling like I should snuggle deeper into my duvet and stay there all day.
But unfortunately I couldn't stay there all day. Instead we decided to be healthy and walk to the shop to get some bread and milk and cheese and on the way back have a cheer at some local cricket club playing a match. Of course nobody really appreciated us, but that didn't stop us... and then we were on our way home again to watch a movie and snooze and be generally lazy until this afternoon when I finally got on a bike.
My back hadn't really sorted itself out in the past week, but I was going crazy and I figured that if I got on the bike and it hurt, I would get off again. But the bike seemed to sort out my back and now I feel good as new! Now if only I can get up early enough tomorrow morning to go for a run before swimming and work. That'd be the true miracle :)
Time to go watch Britain's Got Talent...
Quote of the Day:
Vegetarian is an old Indian word meaning bad hunter.
--Anonymous