4th December 2016

Number of miles run: 5

Tantrums thrown: 3 (not all by me)

I wasn't going to write about wedding planning. It's too risky, too many of the parties involved may read it. However, I'm at a point now where I don't care if nobody wants me round for Christmas. It'll save me money on presents.

Getting engaged is supposed to be one of the happiest times of your life. It's exciting, it's new, and you're disgustingly in love. Now it's happened to me, I've realised that that is a complete fantasy portrayed by the media and Disney. Either that, or everyone else in the world has sane, functioning families who appreciate that you are a grown up and able to make sensible decisions. 

My wedding planning is becoming some sort of ridiculous sitcom, only I'm the protagonist and I'm not finding it very funny. 

My mother in law would like to be a bridesmaid.

My father believes its his wedding, and is insisting I invite all 60 of his closest friends. 

My mother is being strangely silent on the whole subject, except for occasionally high pitched hysterical screeching in the background of phone calls with my father. However, I fear she is the brains behind my father's ridiculous demands.

While this is going on I suspect that my father in law is sitting back, watching the whole thing unfold and being slightly amused, and Mr Runner is playing Xbox. 

The icing on the cake was when my father called last Sunday wanting to know why the whole thing hasn't been booked and planned yet. We've only got 11 months and 2 weeks to go you know. 

The harder he pushes, the harder I am trying to run away. Which only makes him push harder to get things done. It's like I become a stubborn 14 year old all over again, and it's an argument about eating my peas. I resolved that one by running in to the middle of the street with no shoes on, in the rain, and threatened to call ChildLine, very loudly so that the whole street could hear. I didn't have to eat my peas that night. I fear a similar strategy isn't going to work here though. 

I get he's excited, and wants to show off. I'm just not sure I'm there yet. 

So instead, I'm going to sign up to run the Yorkshire Marathon in October next year so I can be too busy training. It's exactly one month before the wedding, so I feel it's an excellent avoidance/coping strategy.

27th November 2016

Miles run: 3.5

Boxes of tissues used: 2

Lemsips consumed: All of Them!

Urgh. The last few days I've been struck down in my prime with a nasty case of The Cold. Unable to leave my bed. Dying alone while Mr Runner fixed his motorbike. 

Luckily I woke up today feeling slightly more perky and went out for a short, but slow, run around the common. It was beautiful, all the trees with autumnal leaves, and not too chilly. 

Mr Runner however, has now developed Manbola. His Manbola is much worse than my Cold, much more debilitating, and his situation is far more dangerous. He may never be able to leave the sofa again. Plus it's all my fault. Apparently next time I'm ill, I'm being quarantined to Scotland, so he can't catch my germs. 

He wasn't very happy with me this morning, when I abandoned him to meet up with my friends for a run...

23rd November 2016

Nike Training Club Workout: Complete

Days without wine: 1

Urgh. I think I'm coming down with a cold!

In a fit of inspiration I decided to sign up to a "get fitter" training plan on Nike Run Club. I assumed that this would be a running training plan, however,  as I'm a self-proclaimed pro-runner now (I'm contemplating running a marathon you know) Nike decided I needed to do strength and conditioning workouts as well in order to get stronger and faster. Today's efforts involved lots of lunges, planks and burpees, which I completed not so enthusiastically in my pants* in front of an episode of The Crown. 

I have no idea how these workouts are supposed to help. I have no muscles, other than those in my legs, and so I spent most of the 30 minute workout lying on the floor, after my arms/core/bum muscles protested, and collapsed under me. I'm not sure I will ever be able to walk or laugh ever again. 

Stupid enthusiasm. 

Off to soak my tired muscles in the bath. 

*I'm at home, on my own, I'm not going to dirty more running kit unnecessarily! I don't need any more washing!

22nd November 2016

Number of glasses of wine consumed: Many

Number of miles run: 0

It's been a while. Getting engaged, followed my a new job, and then becoming horribly ill have got in the way of updating my blog. As has down right laziness! 

I completed the Amsterdam Half Marathon over a month ago. In the run up to the race I ended up with a chest infection, and 10 days before the race I could barely run for a bus, let alone run 13.1 miles! 

However, I managed it. In my slowest time ever, but I managed it. 

The race was amazing, and the atmosphere was fantastic, so I'm not too fussed about my shitty time. 

As well as being unwell in the run up to the race so my training plan went out of the window, I also managed to make a number of strategic errors.

1. I decided I was really thirsty just after I got in my starting pen, so ran the first 5km really fast, as I was desperate for a drink at the first aid station. 

2. The consequence of mistake number 1, was that I then ended up very tired and had a horrible stitch. Although that could also have been a warning sign for error number 3. 

3. Disaster stuck. 5 miles in I decided I needed a poo.

I eyed up every portaloo for the next 8 miles, trying to decide whether I should risk it or not. But I couldn't face it, and I was certainly not going to pull a Paula Radcliffe, and just squat in the street. So I kept going. Concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, and trying to ignore every other sensation in my body. 

I made it through the finish line, and then had to just carry on running straight to my hotel. Much to the shock of Mr Runner, who was waiting for me at the end with another friend.

However, once I had been safely deposited at the hotel, and had found the toilet, I heard how they had enjoyed tracking me round the course on a handy app, while they sampled the local beer. Mr Runner enjoyed this immensely, and proceeded to enjoy the tour round the Carlsberg factory while I was having a post race nap. I was informed that I could do any race I wanted in the future as long as it involved a beer tent, at a minimum, for him. 

Since my adventure in Amsterdam I've not done very much running. I've popped out for the odd 3 miles round the block, telling myself it's all recovery, but I think I'm at a point now where there isn't an awful lot more recovery to do. So it's time to find a new goal to work towards, and I've heard a rumour that the Loch Ness Marathon is pretty good, just waiting for Mr Runner's approval...

13th September 2016

Miles I was supposed to run: 5 X 800m sprints

Miles I actually ran: 5 X 800m sprints

Cars crashed in to: 1

This evening is crap. I managed to drive in to a parked car while on my way home. My choice was scratch a parked car, or drive head first in to a speeding van. I went with the car. As a good citizen I left a little note on their windscreen. Then I ran away.

5 X 800m sprints round the park. Never have I been so enthusiastic about speed training. I was even wondering if there was enough in my legs to do a few extra sprints! 

Eventually I realised I was going to have to slink home, and hope that there was not an angry man standing on my door step. 

I am now cowering in my living room, looking anxiously at my phone, hoping the car owner doesn't notice what I've done...

11th September 2016

Miles I was supposed to run: 13

Miles I actually ran: 14.2 (got a bit lost)

I am so broken. 

I think my legs may fall off at any moment.

In fact, I may never walk again. 

In all honesty the run wasn't that bad. In fact it was a very pleasant morning. The sun was out, it wasn't too hot, and there was a nice gentle breeze. I did end up going slightly further round Richmond park than I planned, and as a result have managed to set a new personal best for distance. All topped off with a delicious, well earned brunch. 

Now I'm home though, I haven't been able to move from the sofa. 

8th September 2016

Miles I was supposed to run: 9

Miles I actually ran: 7

Glasses of wine drunk: 3 very large ones and still going...

Crap day today. Everything imaginable seemed to be going wrong. By lunchtime I was practically cowering under my desk, rocking in a ball, refusing to function.

I need a new career, wine taster sounds like a pretty good one to me right now, or maybe chocolatier? Both together would be perfect in fact!

Then I got stuck in horrific traffic on the way home. Apparently every man and his dog wanted to go to south west london this evening. This did not help my mood.

I coaxed myself out for a long run though, even though all I wanted to do was rock in a ball on the sofa, drinking wine out of the bottle with a straw, in a blanket fort. 

I had to cut my run a bit short because I got home so late, but I'm glad I dragged myself out. By the time I got home I felt like I could do adulting. I could be a calm, rational, sensible human being, and not a snot covered, stressed out, hysterical over grown child. I can cope with the adult world. In fact I'm feeling so positive I might actually get up and go back to work tomorrow. Maybe. It will be Friday after all.