Click below if you fancy a nose. The top of the article features a very pretty and not-sweaty-at-all runner who I secretly hope readers who don't know me assume is me. Not-me "me" is rocking the fuck out of that crop top and ponytail.
There was no mention of it leaping out of the interweb and into print in my communications with Wales online, so was quite a shock to find that the article has been renamed "Run Rebecca Run" and is now a two page feature in today's Western Mail. Chuffed is not the word. Seeing my name in print makes me crazy happy. Lookit!!
Say whaaat?!
Of course, now that I'm a leading authority on running (and getting selfies into local newspapers), I reckon I'm going to suck it up and do the full marathon in Liverpool fo sho. I'm feeling good about it now. It'll hurt, but it's meant to. I have no doubt that the experience is going to blow my fragile little mind. I'm getting into taper territory as of next week, so I'll be reducing the mileage, which will allow for lots more time for numbing my fears with cheese and losing control of my bladder as I completely freak out about the task ahead of me. Should be a relaxing time for myself and the poor bastards that see me every day.
Good luck, friends and family! You can get through this. I believe in you!
Running longer distances in training has been a lot of fun. I've learned loads about myself. For example, if I am tired and frustrated enough by the fact that "I've still got bloody FOUR miles to go and I'm HUNGRY NOW!!", I am not above loudly huffing "AGH, FUCK IT!!" at nothing and no one whilst out in public. Oddly enough, it does make you feel better. I've also learned that it's at around the fifteen mile mark that I start to get insatiably snacky. Still clinging to the fruitless hope that there will be a magical cake station at around that point in Liverpool. That would be the dream.
If you live in Liverpool and intend to spectate on the day - Battenburg, please and thankyou.
Running aforementioned distances has also screwed with my sleeping patterns, because staving off naps for me is like trying to stop an oncoming train with a broom handle. It's just not possible. As a result of this, I've been having some really vivid and slightly screwy dreams. Want to hear a few?
1. A capella Cats
A and I return home (probably from one of our never ending "pops to the shop". We never seem to have food in. No idea why...) to see all the neighbours outside their doors watching all of the neighborhood cats singing classic hit "Stand By Me" together in perfect harmony. When they are done, there is much applause and elation. So much so that someone sets a pre programmed fireworks display off. As you do.
Oh, God, the blood. There was so. Much. Blood. The one tabby that was stuck to the Catherine Wheel will haunt me forever.
Cheers, brain.
2. The Roof, the Roof, the Roof is on Fire
Am at home enjoying daytime TV. In this particular show, an interior designer surprises families by giving their homes a fancy, fancy make over. The families are survivors of house fires, which is a really lovely idea. Except in this one, the houses are mid collapse and a little bit still-on-fire. The part that I was watching in the dream was where they were in the middle of "the big reveal". The mother didn't like the olive green kitchen cupboards they were given, which is an odd thing to be focusing on when you're missing one entire outside wall, and your staircase is ablaze. Some people seriously need to reframe their situations. Sort it out, lady.
3. Sugar, We're Going Down
A and I in an aeroplane, off on our hollibobs. Hurrah!
Lightening strikes one of the wings, causing it to snap off and sending us hurtling towards to ground at hundreds of miles an hour. A is frozen in fear and refusing to hold my hand, which I find mildly irksome. To placate myself, I eat some peanuts and hum "if you're happy and you know it" to myself in my head. Turns out dream-me handles the whole plummeting towards an untimely demise thing in quite a chipper way. Who'd have thought?
Maybe we could learn something from that? No matter how bad it gets, there's always snacks and a cheery sing-along to be had. Unless there are no snacks. In which case, everything is fucked and the world is ending. *shrug*
There have been WAY more dreams than that, but those three are the ones I recall the most clearly. I certainly have a vivid imagination when I'm unconscious. Small wonder I'm always so bloody knackered! I'll be off, then. I need a coffee and something to chew on. T'raa!
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