Marathon Training Week 5/ Thunder Chops Strikes Again

Welp, my long run day (better known to myself as "Are-we-there-yet?" Sunday) yesterday was a 50/50 mix of mirth and bitterness.  Woke up in a mood that would have put the shits up Voldemort

Disclaimer: Am not a massive fan of the Harry Potter franchise.  I just needed a villain at short notice, and I assume Voldemort is grumpy because he doesn't really have a nose.  Please don't tell me off if he is one of the cheerier baddies like the Joker.

I decided to be a good little ninja and run to my Run Like a Ninja course, but instead, I punched four miles through weather conditions best described as "fuck no!" Also, very nearly got shat on by three birds that decided to drop their guts from above in oddly impressive synchronicity next to me.  My hamstrings were stiff, I had a face like thunder and my brain felt like it had the consistency of chewed-up pudding.  

After some sage advice from someone who recognised that I was suffering from a severe case of Thunder Chops that a few good miles is much better than loads of horrible, struggly ones, I bravely went home and filled my face with snacks instead of facing the extra eight miles I had left to make up the twelve that my training plan required.  Feeling much more human as a result, and am able to look back at the week I had and notice that pretty much every decision I made was the decision of dipshit.  This is what my week looked like:

Mon     CrossFit. Should have been a rest day.
Tues    Rest day.  Should have been 4 miles, but my legs were screaming profanities at me because of previous night's activities (squats, sprinting etc)
Weds   Rest day
Thurs  3 miles
Fri        4 miles
Sat       More squat-heavy CrossFit, because Monday's error in judgement taught me sweet F.A
Sun      4 bitter, rage-fueled miles followed by Run Like a Ninja, snacks and self pity

Not a pretty week!  On top of merrily flicking the Vs at my training plan, I also ate lots of nutritionally void blocks of food-shaped sugar, and didn't give myself the extra sleep needed for recovery. D'oh.  

Lessons learned:

• Training plans are for FOLLOWING, not eating biscuits over.
•  You can have your cake and eat it, but you can do bugger all else afterwards.
•  For the love of God woman, sleep!!

 I have a lot of epiphanies, but the do get a bit samey sometimes.  Sort it out, brain.
 

Yesterday evening made up for the daytime anyhow.  Especially after the hour long coma I let myself fall into the moment I set foot back inside my house.  Woke up in bed in my bra and pants with no clue how I'd got myself there.  It was marvelous!  

Went to see the beautiful super brain that is Dylan Moran in the night;  The comedy figure that taught me as a teenager that you can intensely fancy someone based solely on the way that they speak.  

Apart from the fact that I was seated near someone whose body odour reminded me of Quavers and feet (pisses me off that you can ask someone to be quiet in a crowded environment like that, but not to stop attacking your olfactory receptors.  "Please stop smelling like bins, I'm trying to enjoy myself!"),  I had a brilliant night.  The show flew by, and I left the building looking like that Emoji with the tears running down its face.  His climactic joke was his own homage to 50 Shades of Grey in which a man with a cleft palate and a duffel coat is sexually accosted by a mad lady hiding in his bathroom.  Steamy stuff.

I thought that today's list-y thing would tie in nicely with the kind of day I had/the type of comedy I got to watch.  *Clears throat*

10 Little Things that Piss Me Off More Than They Probably Should

1.  People who smell badly for no good (medical or otherwise) reason other than they don't wash.  As a creepy sniffer of things with quite a sensitive, pointy nose, I hate nothing more than having my senses invaded by eggy/Quavery/Dead animal-y smelling individuals.  

2.  People who ask questions and then don't listen to the answer/talk over it.  Hypocritical one, because I'm guilty of this.

3.  5 pence pieces.  They are too small and silly to be respected as currency.

4.  My total inability to read and listen to music at the same time.  It looks so relaxing when they do it on the telly!

5.  Noises  I can't control e.g my keys clanking in my pocket, or my bra doing that horrible, squeaky thing.

6.  Bad grammar/spelling.  But I love these videos!   

Jacksfilms - Your Grammar Sucks

7.  Facebook/Twitter/My iPhone and how I need to be constantly looking at all of the above.

8.   My own innate laziness that I have to do battle with every day to not turn into an unproductive human potato.  Every day I walk a fine line between functioning person out in real world and person shaped pile of mash on sofa. Mmm.  Mash.

9.  The back of other people's heads.  I don't think I've ever had a clear view of an entire gig before.  I know that the vast majority of adult humans can't help by be taller than my 5ft 2 or 3 (pretty sure am shrinking too), but I'm sure I will one day set someone's hair on fire with the intensity of my glare.

10.  Having to travel home from anywhere.  In this day and age, why haven't we invented teleportation yet?

I'll leave you with those heart warming thoughts as I go sit in a rain streaked window and glare into a cup of tea. If I failed to spread good cheer, you can watch the following video by the ture master of all things grump about how you should give your potential a wide berth.  Happy Monday!

Dylan Moran on potential from his brilliant DVD Monster

 

Marathon Training Week 4/ I Love Swansea, I Do

Wow, this Sunday came around quickly!  Knackered today, so hoping this post comes out making sense. Just got out of a half hour shower during which I stared into space, drank coffee and ate cheesy oatcakes.  Name a classier bird, I dare you!  

Don't think I helped my alertness levels by getting merrily pissed on a visit to see my family this Friday evening.  I forgot how cheap a night out I am when my running mileage creeps up.  I had half a bottle of wine and one can of cider and I was plastered.  I don't recall what happened in Friday's Gogglebox, but I can tell you that based on my viewing experience through wine goggles, it was conclusively the best episode EVER!  Also, if my relationship with A evolves into anything like that of the posh couple from Sandwich, I will know that I have won at life.  

Have a peek at this week's shuffly shenanigans:

Mon   - Rest
Tues  - 4 miles + CrossFit
Weds - CrossFit (meant to be a rest day, but this one involved hitting the crap out of a big tyre with a sledgehammer.  No ruddy way I was going to miss that one. Je ne regrette rein).
Thurs - 3 miles
Fri      - 1 mile (yeah, I don't know either.  Maybe I copied the training plan down wrong)
Sat     - Rest
Sun  - Run Like a Ninja + 10 miles.

Today's 10 was bloody lovely!  If spring was a furry animal, I'd be squeezing it.  I love that there's a hint of warmth in the air, but that it's not too hot to do anything in it. Everything's better when the sun's out.  All the greenery goes HD, and people are transformed from miserable wastrels to chirpy beer garden dwellers.  Look how pretty today is!

Not the best of photographs, but you get the picture.  Pun intended.

...At least you can't see the shopping trolley on the bank.  Why are there always trollies in rivers?

I took my time today.  Focused on relaxing and just enjoying myself.  When it got a bit tough, I walked for a while, adjusted my form and carried on my merry way.  It was nice.  Only thing that drove me mad was that my good mood kick-started the jukebox in my brain, making Everything is Awesome by Tegan and Sara (that one off of the Lego Movie) play on a loop in my head.  Enjoyable at first, but by mile 8, I wanted to stick twigs in my ears and wiggle them about in hopes of finding the "off" button.  Here's a short taster of what I endured:

Everything is Awesome - Tegan & Sara feat Lonely Island

Fortunately, my good mood gave me warm, fuzzy feelings to concentrate on too.  The first five miles were spent ambling along Swansea's seafront with a dippy smile on my face as I ruminated about how much I love my city.  I proper loves it, I do.  I had plenty of time as I weaved through other joggers and smiling families to compile a list of why living here makes me silly-face happy.  Here is a shortened version of said list:

1. Is it a city?  Is it the countryside? Oooh...

Swansea is one of those rare cities that strikes a nice balance between urban and rural.  If I want to plonk one foot after the other on concrete, I can mosey on over to SA1 and marvel at the shininess of its buildings.  If I want to feel like I'm in the wilderness, all I have to do is pick a nearby mountain to scramble up.  And have you SEEN the seafront?  We've got beaches, bitches!

2.  DOGS!!

I'm not allowed a dog in my rented house/glorified shoebox.  I'm not allowed a cat either, but we'll keep that one between us, faceless Internet.  Shh.  Fortunately, everyone else around here seems to have at least one dog, so there's always a loveable looking mutt within petting distance.  I'd like to think I'm getting alright at this adult-ing business, but in the presence of a dog, my brain short circuits and turns me back into 4 year old "OHMYGODISTHATADOGGYCANITOUCHIT?!" Becky.  I'm getting better at controlling it, though.  I can usually tone it down to an intensely goo-eyed grin at a passing canine. Until I remember the canine is highly likely to have a human owner attached to it, who is judging me for looking at their dog like I want to steal it.  That's because I do want to steal it.  People can be very perceptive sometimes.

3.  Nothing is far away

Swansea's nightlife is the best example of this.  99.9% of its bars are one one street, making it easy to ping-pong your way down a single stretch of road, where there is inevitably a weary taxi driver with his door open, ready to catch you and return you to your house - the place where your bed lives. 

4.  It's byootiful!

Dylan Thomas put it best, calling Swansea an "ugly, lovely city".  As it modernises, Swansea's quickly becoming much, much less of an uggo.  It's the ugly duckling of cities.  Which, now that I'm typing it, I'm realising is kind of a perfect analogy. Doesn't the ugly duckling turn into a swan?  Swan?  Swansea?

Holy crap, I just blew my own mind.

5.  Students!

I don't care what people say about students.  Students make a city awesome.  If my liver and bank balance could still handle 4 consecutive nights' drinking a week, whilst holding down a part time job (granted, much of my time working in Debenhams' restaurant involved me "going to the fridge to get something" to ease my pounding headaches and nausea) and attending lectures (but only the ones that start after midday), I would do it all over again.  Students make a city busier, more creative and more vibrant.  Plus, I'm pretty sure that without them, there wouldn't be half as many coffee shops,and that would be a goddamn travesty.

Hope you're enjoying the sunshine too today.  I have to go now, as I have been promised a lasagne/mexican food hybrid.  Mmm.  Everything truly is awesome.

...Aww, fuck, it's back in my head! Gettitout, gettitout!!!!

Marathon Training, Week....3!

Lots to talk about this week, and ALL about running, so if any of you lovely readers only like my sillier posts, then just warning you now!  Am ver' excited about repeatedly putting one foot in front of the other today.  Ver' excited indeed.

So!  Fellow running bores (or Running Boars - we could start a band with that name!) Where shall I start?  

Here's a quick little overview of the week I've had running-wise:

Mon - 4 miles (inc track session with Run 4 All)
Tues - CrossFit (hurrah!)
Wed - Rest
Thur - 3 miles
Fri    - 3 miles
Sat   - Rest
Sun  - Run Like A Ninja (explanation to follow) + 9 miles walk/running

Busy, busy week!  Despite the fact that my ankle/calf issue flared up with a vengeance on Monday before track, and  that my knee decided to join the pain party on Thursday because I dared to run down a hill, it's been a pretty successful week.  Today was the icing on top of it.

By Run Like A Ninja, I didn't mean I've started donning a balaclava and jumping out of bushes to surprise people. I don't fancy being arrested. It's the name of a 6 week course that's being run by Outcast Swansea's biggest running enthusiast (and fastest man with a beard I've ever met - to hell with wind resistance!), Owen Pillai. 

I jumped at the chance to attend.  It hadn't occurred to me until very recently that, as with all other sports, there has to be a right and a wrong way to run, even though humans are built for the activity.   In retrospect, it's bizarre how most, if not all runners will happily plod right into it without first being taught basic form.  Like what I did.  From just one hour-long session, I learned there are several things that I've been doing wrong:

• I smack my heels repeatedly on the floor as I go.  I'm surprised my ankles made it this far before crying out for help.  Poor, sad ankles!
• I slouch.  In a bid to make running easier on myself, I try to "relax".  Turns out my "relaxing" translates into hunching my shoulders and gritting my teeth until it's over.  So relaxing!
• I swing my arms here, there and everywhere, like a crap Spiderman, flinging away webs of energy with my arms and torso; energy that could be used elsewhere.  Like, I don't know...in helping my legs to run?

Quite an enlightening hour! Fortunately, I also learned a billion and one things that I could do to improve my running.  Which is good, because otherwise it'd just have been an hour of  

"Wow, that's not running! Hahaha, look how silly you are!" 

Also, our coach isn't a Disney Villain whose joy in life is making recreational athletes cry - so the main focus was on what we could do to help us on our way to becoming superstar ninjas instead.

Here's how much learnin' I got done in one hour.  ONE puny hour!
 
1.  Posture is the most important thing to remember.  Shoulders should be back and down.  Shoulders.  Not knuckles.

2.  Engage your core, otherwise running becomes a weird, energy-losing, floppitty motion.
 
3.  Lean forwards slightly from the ankles.  Running should feel like a controlled fall.  Think Michael Jackson move, not choreography off of Stomp.

4.  To stop losing energy by swinging your arms around like Phoebe off of Friends, keep them in a relaxed 90 degree angle, and keep your wrists loose by holding them skywards like you're being camp and offering someone two packs of Monster Munch (or other delicious crisp of choice. Mmm.  Monster Munch).

The most important and mind-blowing bit of advice I absorbed like a sponge cake (Mmm. Sponge cake.  I really need a snack) was...Tiny fanfare, please!

There is no such thing as jogging.

Whaaaaat?!  What have I been doing this whole time??  It makes sense, though! There is only walking, or running.  If you're being overtaken by pensioners taking their pooch for walkies (what? This doesn't happen to me all the time.  Shut up! You're slow!), then you really need to rethink what you're doing.  

By running that slowly, all you are doing is making walking really ruddy hard for yourself.  As a passionate "jogger" (because I thought it sounded more recreational and less scary than "runner"), this information meant that, if true, I'd have to rethink entire way I train.  I bimble along slowly so that I can get further, but what's been bugging me lately is that it still feels like a colossal effort when I do even that.  I thought lack of fitness was to blame.

I was struggling with this concept, so I decided that the 9 miler I had scheduled after the course was a good time to test it out.  I ran at the speed that my shiny new running posture comfortably allowed, walking whenever it got a bit too gritty, or when my posture started to collapse.  There was a lot of walking.  A metric fuck-ton of walking.  

I covered that 9 miles at a slightly quicker pace than I'd have done if I jogged the whole damn thing.  What the actual eff?!  I'm not saying it was easy - I did struggle a lot.  At one point, I had to bribe myself with the prospect of buying Fruit Pastilles at mile 7 to keep myself going.  They were delicious, thanks.

Difference was, I was struggling from fatigue, as opposed to actual pain.  It's a nice feeling when your muscles are tired in a totally painless kind of way, which is something I rarely get to experience. Especially recently.  My heels, ankles and calves are crying today, but for once, it's with relief that they didn't get yet another nasty battering.

Starting to think that maybe walking sections of this marathon might not be a shabby idea....

See you next week!

Marathon Training Week 2/Galentines Day!

Happy Galentines Day!  Or the closest actual official day to it.... International Women's Day!  Hurrah!  Before I regale you with further tales of my adventures in marathon training, I will share with you some quotes from famous laydees I admire/love/creep on:

"You do it becase the doing of it is the thing. The talking and worrying and thinking is not the thing."

- Amy Poehler, Yes Please

“So, my unsolicited advice to women in the workplace is this. When faced with sexism, or ageism, or lookism, or even really aggressive Buddhism, ask yourself the following question: “Is this person in between me and what I want to do?” If the answer is no, ignore it and move on. Your energy is better used doing your work and outpacing people that way. Then, when you’re in charge, don’t hire the people who were jerky to you.” 

 - Tina Fey, Bossypants

"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

- Maya Angelou

“I’m neither ‘pro-women’ nor ‘anti-men’. I’m just ‘Thumbs up for the six billion”  

- Caitlin Moran (How To Be a Woman)

"One time, I accidentally drank an entire bottle of vinegar.   I thought it was terrible wine."

- Leslie Knope (Parks and Recreation)  

Such wisdom.

...And now to neatly slide down the staircase (on my bottom, of course) from  inspirational women to running - if you have any interest in both, you should read superhero blogger (whose life and running tights I covet) Bangs and a Bun's post about celebrating International Women's Day through movement:

Bangs and a Bun - International Women's Day

Brill read, and it'll make you want to tear your day a new one.  Guaranteed.

Anyhoo, running!  This is what my week looked like:

• Mon   4 miles   
• Tues  Rest 
• Wed   3 miles 
• Thur  3 miles 
• Fri      Rest 
• Sat     7 miles followed by surreal night out in a teeny, uv-lit karaoke booth (I didn't sing.  However, I did attempt to rap a fraction of Eminem's Guess Who's Back before remembering that my accent is far too posh for me to sound like the credible bad ass gangsta rapper I secretly know I am inside.  Biatch.  etc) 
• Sun   Pizza.  Lots of pizza

I know. I'm practically Paula Radcliffe already, aren't I?  Last night was the last booze-fueled one (in theory) I'll have on a Saturday in a good, long while now.  The thought of doing double digit Sunday runs on a hang over makes my guts do a backflip.  Would be the stuff of nightmares.  Serious times from next week onwards! 

Didn't attempt to add any CrossFit into the mix this week because I was just too bloody thrilled to be able to run again now that my ankle is back in action, and I'm enjoying the freedom to be able to shuffle around my neighborhood again, regardless of pace.  Been having fun, but, blimey - I forgot how chuffing uncomfortable running is!

Sounds stupid because I've been doing it for a while now, so the notion of my forgetting how it feels just seems daft, but it really did slip my mind how much mental grit you need at your disposal in order to keep on moving.  

After six weeks of wistfully staring at other people bouncing around in their lycra pants, I was only concentrating on the freeing feelings that come with getting a bit out of puff in the great outdoors.  By "great outdoors", I mean that bit of land with some trees and a pond on it near my house.  I forgot that the biggest thing I get out of exercise is the amazing "fuck yeah!!" feeling of getting through the tougher bits.  The horrible, gritty bits that that add a little to your character every time you knuckle down and get the hell through them.

Yesterday, all was fine and dandy until about mile six when my legs took it upon themselves to turn into actual lead.  The dominating thought I was having was 

"God, I'm going so slow, I must be rubbish at running if I'm struggling at this speed." 

Stupid brain.  After a bit of rest and recalibration (and cider.  More than a bit of cider.  Mmm, cider), I recalled that the struggle in any kind of exercise (or life in general, if you want me to get all deep on you) is kind of the point.  Every time you get through a tough patch, just getting through it is its own reward.  It's your opportunity to remind your body who is in charge, and to find strength in knowing that it's simply not in you to give up at the first sign of discomfort.

I can't wait for my mileage to start creeping up in the coming weeks.  Bring on the aches, bring on the tantrums, and bring on the feelings of accomplishment. 

And the medal.  Obviously.

Also, I very nearly drew a kangaroo with my run tracker yesterday.  So close:

Disclaimer:  An Australian relative I know through Facebook informs me that this looks more like a wallaby.  Whether she is just screwing with me remains to be seen.

Hope you're having a cracking weekend, whatever you're doing!  Word to the wise: Discomfort in exercise is a good thing.  Discomfort in eating pizza is not.  Grit and determination in that case leads only to burps and sadness.  I am living proof of this today.  Oof.

Ready, Steady, Go! Marathon Training Week 1

This first week's report brought to you by... a hangover and nausea brought on by eating a family sized bag of vegetable crisps in one sitting.  Nausea from crisps only.  Hangover may have something to do with the many, many drinks I had last night to celebrate a friend's engagement.  Ow.  Start as you mean to go on and all that!  I'm sure Mo Farrah starts every serious training regime by getting pissed and trying to explain to a whole room of people why they HAVE to watch Parks and Recreation, because it will change their lives and can I have another sausage roll, please?

So I might have mentioned that I signed up to a marathon.  Once or twice...a minute since I signed up.  

Signed up to what, Becky?

Oh, just a MARATHON!!  On the 14th June, I'm going to be plodding/crawling/prancing 26.2 miles around Liverpool at the Liverpool Rock 'n' Roll marathon.  There's going to be a band at every mile, a festival at the end, and a pretty badass looking medal.  I NEEDS me that medal.  As a compulsive documenter-er..ist(?!) of my own every move (current status: pyjama clad, queasy), I obviously need to plaster weekly updates of my training all over the internet.  

I am crossing everything (including my eyes.  Makes typing Difficult.  Haw haw.  Christ, I'm tired) that I can get through all 16 weeks without losing a limb/having to drop out.  Nervous as chuff right now, because I only got the go-ahead to start running - carefully - again on Thursday, following some ankle ligament stuff that stopped me hopping and skipping about my day with my usual vigor for six whole sodding weeks.  It was terrible.  I've nearly run out of episodes of Parks & Recreation to watch.  What am I going to do when Leslie Knope is no longer in my life?  Who will guide me?  My own moral compass? Pfft!

Anyway, what I was going to say is that I'll be over the moon if get to actually do this awesome thing I've been gagging get did for a while now.  My ankle still isn't exactly my best friend.  The playful scamp keeps pretending that everything's alright and I'm better, and then springing surprise aches and pains on me.  I would say it keeps me on my toes, but that would be a lie.  Because I have to sit down when it happens.  Silver lining is that I'm now unbelievably grateful that I can even do a modest shuffle. Even a sort-of jog is better than no running at all, regardless of how well-stocked Netflix currently is.  Netflix should pay me for advertising it in more or less every single blog post.

Netflix Netflix Netflix.  Can I have an account for free now, please?

...Netflix.

So, training this week consisted of avoiding the plan I've chosen entirely, and just hoping for the best that my ankle will hold out. Up until Thursday, Rosie the osteopath (get me going to a specialist for my sports injury...that I did whilst being sporty!), who I met through CrossFit (so sporty) had prescribed me a healthy mix of no running and picking things up with my crap foot to build up strength.  The latter has actually been quite fun.  Turns out I've got pretty nimble monkey toes (dextrous as opposed to hairy).  I'll do quite well when the zombies come and well all have to start living in trees.  Also, it is now a personal goal of mine to be able to pick up a towel with my toes and fling it up high enough for it to land on my head.  It's important to have things to aim for in this life.  I'll let you know how I get on.

Couple of sessions in, and I'm finally on the mend.  Rosie (off of Swansea Body Kinetics if you're interested and/or if your limbs need tinkering with like mine do) has actual magical powers, and could tell immediately what was causing my mystery pain just from observing me standing awkwardly in my pants.  She's like Mystic Meg, except instead of a crystal ball, she can tell your future from looking at your weird body parts.  I have one hip higher than the other, which is making one of my arches collapse a bit.  My igor-like wonkiness (I might be exaggerating.  Slightly) aside, she's done a great job in speeding up my recovery, meaning I could manage a slow 3 miles on Friday that was almost free of pain.  Huzzah!

Rather than writing week 1 off as a crap one, because I was only able to complete one run and a couple of CrossFit sessions, I'm thinking more along the lines of  

"Best week ever! I managed to do a whole run!"  Was way more than I was expecting I'd be able to accomplish last week.  Here's to 15 more weeks that I expect to be tough, challenging, and a buggerload of fun!  Liverpool, I'm coming for you!  Very slowly and carefully.  Fuck yeah!!

...Now has anyone seen where I left the paracetamol?  My thoughts are starting to hurt again.

 

Oh!  Also this happened a week or so ago.  My nan decided that for her 70th birthday, she wanted her first tattoo, and that all the women in our immediate family (her, mum, my two sisters and I) should get the same one.  Not a big deal or anything, but my nana is way cooler than your nana.  So there.

 

Why I Need Running

I'm going insane.  A few weeks ago, I went out on a 12 mile run. All good bar a slightly achy lower calf, but I persevered.  The longer the distances I cover, the more soreness I experience, and it comes and goes as I plod along.  Sometimes I find it entertaining to guess where the ache is going to move next as I'm running.  I assume it's my body's way of keeping me amused.  All part and parcel of the experience.  Trouble is, my slightly achy calf never went away and subsequently spread to my ankle and under my heel, and the soreness has been plaguing me ever since. 

What's driving me nuts is the fact that it's screwing with my head by playing hide and seek with me.  No soreness at all as I go about my business.  Didn't even hurt when the nice physio lady stuck her knuckles into my leg and gross bare feet to see where the pain was coming from.  Whatever Ouch Demon is inhabiting my right leg only comes out if I run or walk for longer than half an hour or so.  Then it has me limping until I watch at least three episodes of Parks and Recreation on Netflix.  Yes, it is very important to the Ouch Demon that I appease it with Netflix.  Only Netflix will do.

I'm now about a week and a bit into the Physio-Lady-prescribed fortnight of inactivity, and I am a few head spins short of going full Exorcist on my own ass.  I didn't realise how much I've come to rely on running since I took up the activity just under two years ago.  Without exercise, the term "emotionally unstable" doesn't quite cut it.  Think Batman's Joker, but with PMS and an insatiable sweet tooth. 

The silver lining of being able to do sod all for two weeks is that I've developed a deeper appreciation for physical activity, regardless of my lack of speed and natural prowess.  And I've had PLENTY of time to think about it (translate: "wallow in self pity over fried food").  Here is a short, non extensive summary of why I need running in my life.  I don't know how helpful it is to anyone reading this, but I intend to refer back to it whenever I'm umming and ahhing over leaving the house just because it's "yucky" out.  Here goes:

1.  It's a reset button for the days where I wake up in dustbin mode and am not satisfied until I've eaten every processed, plasticky, cavity-inducing bits of "food" I can get my mitts on.

2.  It makes me a nicer person to be around.  Without running, I have too little patience to deal with my own shit, let alone other peoples'.

3.  Instead of gaining an hour or two a day during which I'd normally be plonking one foot in front of the other, I've been losing time by regularly falling into tiny comas called "naps".  I've always been a sporadic napper, but this week is just getting ridiculous.  All I have to be is "not stood up" to fall into a deep trance. The less I move, the more tired I feel.  The fuck, body?!

4.  Emotionally and logically, without the opportunity to sweat out my stress, I am like a volcano that only needs a feather to land on it for it to erupt.  I am far more likely this week to weep openly at a discarded sock on the floor, where normally, I'd be happily burrowed away under a pile of un-ironed laundry, documenting my miles on my Garmin instead.

5.  Sitting down for too long at a time makes my butt hurt.

Bottom line is, at rest, I am a crazy person.  Running is the only way to burn off the excess.  Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go shave my eyebrows off and draw on the walls in crayon until I'm allowed to wear my trainers and feel human again.

Do an extra mile for me, friends! Sniffle.

26 Wise, Wise Wisoms

Well, hello!  I did one of these posts around this time last year, where I gathered all the super-useful knowledge I'd gleaned from the 25 years on this planet and shared them with the whole world (or whatever corner of the internet this blog lives in).  I've just this week completed my 26th year on this planet, bringing me ever close to the big 3-0 (I'm not ready to be a grown-up!! Send help!), and it's time for me to take stock of the information I've hoarded and/or consolidated over the last 12 months.  I'm sure you will find this a very serious and scholarly list, reflecting my advancing years and wisdom.  

Or I'll just blurt out whatever comes to mind.  Whatever.  Happy learning!

1.  It is impossible to trick your metabolism.  After multiple attempts to fool my body into thinking cake = health giving treat, I can finally conclude that exercise and food that doesn't have cartoon characters on the packaging (I'm looking at you, Haribo bear, you adorable bastard) is the only way forward.  This upsets me, but it is unfortunately true.  It also makes me want cake.

2.  Lifting heavy shit is great fun and makes you feel like you have super powers.  Until the muscle soreness kicks in and the only thing you're able to reach in the shower is your chin.

3.  Even moderate drinking has to be paid for in spades.  Hurty, sleepy, binge eat-y spades.

4.  Of all the songs in the top 100 chart at any given time, I am familiar with approx 7, and actually enjoy about 3 of them.  I am no longer home with the downies. 

5.  Inappropriate games, like the brilliant Cards Against Humanity are much more fun when played with grandparents.  They are filth in its purest form.  Nothing is funnier that hearing your Nana announce to the room that she is a "motherfucking sorcerer."  Nothing.

 Cards Against Humanity.  Cards read "What do old people smell like?" & "My vagina"

See? A game suitable for all ages!

6.  I'm actually capable of relaxing if the weather is hot enough, and if I'm within 50 feet of a bar.

7.  A house isn't a home without a feline overlord.  Err, I mean pet.  Why did I say that?

8.  In order to live, I require food, water, physical activity...and Netflix.

9.  I still don't like football, and have this year saved copious amounts of time and energy by not trying to.

10.  Comics can be surprisingly educational and piss-takingly funny.  See: The Oatmeal.

11.  The grass is always greener on the other side. Cliche, but I often need to remind myself how good I've got things.  Particularly when I get itchy feet at work.

12.  Socks don't have to match, as long as they are vaguely the same length.

13.  Dominos Pizza makes my stomach revolt for days, but the call of the dough is too strong to resist.

14.  Eggs are fucking awesome!  I have recently developed very strong feelings towards them.  They are delicious nutrient filled apples from the butts of chickens.  Chicken butts of the world, I thank you!

15.  Mentally, I may well always be 15.  This is okay.

16.  It's surprisingly easy to put yourself in someone else's shoes with enough practice.  Particularly if they are a clown. 

17.  Life before American Horror Story was not life at all.

18.  I really, REALLY want to run a marathon.

19.  Sometimes, when you really, really want to run a marathon, you end up doing too much to soon, resulting in you hurting yourself and having to avoid activity altogether for a fortnight because of your stupidity.  Lesson learned at the physio clinic just this morning.  Am going to go insane, and have no one to blame but myself.  Stupid self.

20.  The desire for cute, fluffy pets only intensifies with age.  God, I wish I was allowed a puppy!! It doesn't even have to be a big one!

21.  Reading and running are the best forms of escapism by far.  But not at the same time, because manholes.

22.  The cliche about how you give fewer fucks about how you're perceived as you get older? True!  I cannot wait til all of my fucks have expired, and I'm a bad ass granny day drinking and cruising in my pimped out mobility scooter, calling out the "yoot" of the day for their follies.

23.  Intensity isn't always a good thing.

24.  Sisters are friends who are stuck with you for life.  They must be mined for entertainment at all times.

25.  I WILL be a zombie extra in a movie one day.  Even if it kills me.  Haw haw.  See what I did there?

26.  I am still not Beyonce.

Cats vs Humans

Ow, I hurt my... me!  Had my second ever experience with atlas stones last night, and as a result, am now feeling like I was at the losing end of a bar fight with Mr T. Woke up to what I briefly thought was a heart attack this morning, to find it was only the snazzy bruise on my chest complaining as I tried and failed to flip myself over.  Never thought I'd be part of an organisation that sees chucking concrete (concrete!! That stuff that pavements and breeze blocks are made of. WT-actual-Eff?!) balls around as an excellent, healthy activity.

Moaning aside, I'm chuffed I went to that particular session.  I always find that the classes that make me want to cry the most at the start also tend to end with me feeling like She-Hulk, but with pastier skin.  Raaah! The fact that I found it so challenging can mean only one thing - That as soon as I get the knack, I will LOVE it.  Logic for you.  

Also, the bruises look pretty bad ass.  

"Oh, this little thing?  I got it from THROWING A BIG ASS BALL OF CONCRETE AROUND!! You need me to open that jar of pickles for you?  Perhaps direct you to the beach whilst tactically but discretely showing off my guns?"

I kid.  I don't have guns.  Weapons or physical.

You find me at the second of two days off I've magically managed to get off work at the last minute this week.  My manager is a saint who knows that the best way to get me to do my job well is to secure me as many days off doing actual work as possible.  Glad we see eye to eye.  I am sat at my PC with a snoring lump of fluff in my lap that I've spent a lot of time hanging out with over the festive period.

No, I haven't let my personal grooming get out of hand.  I am fully clothed, and Walter the cat has chosen to sleep in the most inconvenient spot he can find.  As per.  After glaring at me like this...

If looks could kill.

 

 

...from the printer for a while, he has now forgiven me for whatever crimes he is silently accusing me of in the above image, and has now settled in my lap/on the arm I need for the mouse.  The more time I spend with Walter, the clearer it becomes to me how differently these fluffy, conniving bundles of manipulation see the world to humans.  I have come prepared with some examples.  I shall roll up my sleeves and begin:

 

The Human Nose

Human - Facial feature for sniffing out food (and probably other things too.  But mostly food).

Cat - Human "on" button.  Sticks out from duvet while humans sleep, handily reachable from bedside table for when I need to be let out to pee at 4am.  Or just for shits and giggles because humans hate being woken up.  More effective/amusing if you implement claws.

Laundry Pile

Human - Clothing that needs to be washed.

Cat - Bed.

 

Radiator

Human - Handy addition to the home for heating the immediate environment.

Cat - Bed.  Even though am obviously uncomfortable as it feels like butt and paws are in direct contact with the fiery pits of Hell.  Glare at humans for making it so hot but stay put anyway.  

Kitchen 

Human - Food preparation area.  More sanitary if cat keeps paws off worktops.
Cat - Hey, what you doing? Why'd you put me on the floor?  Is that food?  Why'd you put me on the floor?  Can I have a hug? Why'd you put me on the floor? etc etc.

PC/Phone/Tablet/TV

Human - Electronic entertainment to stave off thoughts of mortality/stuff that I'm actually meant to be getting done.

Cat - Portals into another dimension.  Must sit directly on/in front of device in order to stop humans being sucked in.  God forbid I actually have to hunt for my food like some sort of wild animal.

 

Clothing

Human -  Items worn outside of the body for warmth/ to make self look hip and trendy.  So hip and trendy.

Cat - Needs more fur.  I will lie on it.

Cat Toys

Human - Look how nice I am, giving cat something fun to play with.  Look, cat! Look how fun this is!

Cat - Human playthings.  Humans are an easily amused species.  Morons.

 

Cardboard Box 

Human - Disposable container.

Cat - Holy fuck, this is awesome!  I am an astronaut!  A pirate!  Now I'm a ninja!  No one can see me now mwahahaha!!

 

"Tee hee. I am so invisible right now."

Human

Human - Complex, autonomous being with own free will trying to figure own own purpose in life.

Cat - Food/attention bringing slave.  Also bed.

 

 

 

Sigh... I need to get out more.

 

New Year, New You? Nah!

I can't believe Christmas is over for another year already! Just as I was getting settled into sweets and cheese for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and long hours in front of the telly, it's been cruelly snatched from my grasp.  That, and I'm running out of Haribo.  I've enjoyed properly (and by "properly", I mean "drunkenly") catching up with my family, and with friends that I only tend to see once or twice a year because everyone's off on their own adventures in pastures new(er than where we went to school). Also, in my excitement, I've been trying to make use of every single thing I obtained in my Christmas loot from Santa.  Example:

 

Me, looking like a potato in a tea cosy and slippers after taking my beautiful, new, pink Asics and 1000-mile socks for their maiden jog... and then managing to lock myself out of the house in the freezing cold until A came to my rescue and made me coffee. Not sure why am making that face.  Can only assume is frozen in place.

So, now that Crimbo-time is pretty much over, I'm seeing the gradual drip-drip of New Year status updates filtering through my Facebook feed.  So far, they seem to fall into two opposing camps:

Camp 1 -  "As soon as the new year hits, I'm going to be a new person! All skinny and living in the gym.  Also, I will learn French and how to change colour like a chameleon.  I will be UNRECOGNISABLE!!  I shall be skinny, French and occasionally purple!"

Camp 2 - "Ugh, here come the New Year, New Me. Statuses!  They're never going to change, and I won't be able to park at the gym, because I am the boss of the Healthy Lifestyle Club, and there's no room for anyone else!"

I might be exaggerating a leedle bit, but that's the gist of what I've been reading.  Some people want to change everything about themselves, whilst others who have admirably managed to  create a regime they are content with scoff at those who want to follow in their footsteps and do the same.

Whilst I agree with Camp 2 that improvements to your way of life won't necessarily magically stick just because it's January, I don't see any harm in resolutions.  As long as you are prepared to be flexible with them, and don't admonish yourself and throw in the towel the second you inevitably stumble back into old habits. Everyone does it. Habits become habits because you repeat a behaviour until it becomes something you do more consistently than whatever you were doing before.

I believe that the end of the year is a great time to take stock of what you've achieved, and what you want to get out of the next 12 months.  I probably think this because I'm one of those cool kids who has kept a diary since I my early teens, which means I have an overwhelming compulsion to document every single thing I do.  It makes for terribly exciting reading.

It also means that I can look at old resolutions I've made myself over the years.  Let's see if we can spot a pattern!  I would offer you a prize for finding it, but I've eaten everything in my house that's not nailed down.  In no particular order:

• Lose weight
• Bite nails less
• Be less shy/incompetent around other people
• Spend less time sitting around
• Watch less TV
• Be more selfless

Etc etc.  Nothing revolutionary.  The trend?  Everything has to be less.  I think this is a common thing, especially in women.  We need to spend less time relaxing, less time thinking about ourselves and eat much, much less until we become tiny, waif-like molecules living off lettuce leaves and self judgement.  Hurrah! The year ahead is going to be spectacular! So much fun! 

We start on the assumption that we're not enough to begin with, which the logical bit of the brain (the one behind the bit that likes watching Netflix for eight hours straight and believes that after 3 pints, money isn't real) knows is... well, just bollocks, really.  Everything you achieve throughout the year is achieved by the person you already are, in the body you already have.  Here's some stuff that I'm proud of having done this year:

1. Ran 3 half marathons.
2. Got into a decent routine with the superhero runners at Run4All.
3. Maintained a blog, which I enjoy doing and am proud of.
4. Got a secure, not-too-shabby job that I'm comfortable in. 
5. Tried out and loved Outcast CrossFit, and made more friends in the process.  Impressively strong and speedy friends!

Did I need to lose half my bodyweight and become an expert socialite to do any of those things?  Noop!  I still have all my "flaws" from before - I decide that I'm terrified of socialising at the most counterproductive of times (until I forget to be), I still have a weakness for anything edible that's terrible for my health, and my knee jerk reaction to anything negative is to berate myself for it.  But, overall, I'm pretty happy with my lot in life.  Everything I've done this year has come with perks - made me fitter, slightly more fulfilled and busier.  I'm just the same as I was before this year.  Just... more!  I'm Becky Plus!  Becky.2 ... etc.  I'm like an iPhone.  I'm essentially the same, just with the occasional software update.  Or a simile that's a bit more imaginative...

Point is, there's nothing wrong with taking stock of what you have and creating a plan to push for more things that will serve to add to your life experience.  Just don't forget that it's only you who can get you all that stuff - You, exactly as you are right now!

Hmm.  I didn't originally intend for this post to be all motivational-y.  Here's my favourite terrible joke to distract you from the sentimentality of it all:

Man goes into a farrier's.

Man: Hello, do you have any jobs going?

Farrier: Depends.  Have you ever shoed a horse?

Man:  No, but I said "fuck off" to a donkey once.

Haw haw.