Reality bites, with even more WTMI

Another trip to the dr, $75 (!?!?!) at the chemist and a day spent alternating between vinegar baths and the armchair closest to the heater and I've finally got the unmentionable-in-mixed-company things that have been making life miserable mostly settled down and had something like a night's sleep. Generally I think it's a great gift to be female, but this week I'd forego lipstick and heels and shave every day in a heartbeat. It's been pointed out to me that this rampaging unmentionable-in-mixed-company may have had something to do with Monday's debacle. Meh.
Strangely enough I had to have another day off training yesterday. I did try a short ride - yes I do need my head read but who among us hasn't been in that frantic OMFG it's only (x days) until (scary event) gotta get something done headspace? This time before Very Slow Marathon #1 I'd already chalked up a 30km and a 33km, then did another 33 and a 35 after that. If all goes well in the next weeks hahahahaha I'll have managed two 27s, one 30km and a 32km. Good thing GCM isn't my A race. It's looking like being a train crash. More anon, expectation-lowerers!

I Cracked (with extra added WTMI)

I cracked like a walnut at the 27km mark of my run. I could not keep going. That's never happened to me before. I felt almost bewildered at how much it was hurting to keep moving, how much nothing helped, none of the mind games, nothing. I don't know why it was a painful come on you can keep going slog from beginning to end - the late start? wrong breakfast? too much giggling at Eurovision last night? still getting over my post-antibiotics yeast infection? I warned you about the WTMI . It was when the nice man on the bike asked me if I was ok because I was lying on the wet grass in the drizzle (almost asleep, as it happened) that I realised the answer to 'how much can I take?' was 'no more'.
So I walked to Mum's and begged a lift home to get warm and try to dry out my phone. A particularly heavy downpour soaked it right through my fuel belt pocket. I think it's dead :(
I had a longer ice bath than usual because my quad cramped and I couldn't get out! I really did have to laugh at that. I don't know what I'll do if race day turns out like this. I have 2 more long runs scheduled; cross your fingers for me, eh?

Saturday night

Noddie is asleep.
The Spousal Unit is out at a work trivia night.
I have a glass of champagne, and Eurovision is on the TV.......
in the next room.
I couldn't do my long run this morning after yet another J's work rostering snafu I tire of these, oh I do.... wiped out my only 4.5 hour anywhere-near-daylight Noddie-free window for the weekend. I'm in my study working on my assignment with the aim of finishing it tomorrow night after J gets home......
so I can get that 31km done on Monday.
Sad.
More anon, one-track minders! I'm printing out this picture to stick up on my study wall. LOVE. IT.

Seriously

My female friends*: what do you like about yourself? Why are you awesome? Make sure you write it in the comments. Details please!
Now the real question: are these things more or less important to your real, full, whole life than than how much you weigh or your (perceived) physical flaws?
more anon, beautiful people!*Blokes are also welcome but I think this is much more likely to be an issue for chicks

Singing in the rain

Yesterday was an Epic HTFU Fail for LBTEPA. It included a very poor night's sleep, Noddie wandering in at 5am, and a big crybaby sookfest forty-five minutes later when the alarm went off along the lines of I caaann't go running, I'm too tiiiired, and now it's raaiinning and if I run after work I won't have time to do the groceries and I have to study sniffle boohoohooo waaahh, (Spousal Unit: there there) (SU and LBTEPA: zzzzzz) oh no it's 7.30 aarrgghh rush rush rush Noddie to school off to work busy day pick Noddie up from aftercare rush to dancing buy groceries eat dinner write assignment zzzzzzzz.
This morning it was still raining. LBTEPA's soggily triumphant H-eningTFU was brought to you by
Tim McGraw
Bonnie Tyler
ELO
AC/DC
and
Gloria Gaynor.
Damn it feels good to have my workout out of the way.

Note to self: remember how much better today felt than yesterday.

Now for another 500 words of my last assignment for the semester. I just found out I got 95 (!!) for my last piece of work so am a bit giddy and lacking focus. I also got some very good news about some consulting work I wanted. Whee!
So distracting! Must. Concentrate.More anon, sporters of fearsome coiffure

Fascinating

There are six weeks until VSM (Very Slow Marathon) #2 so it'll be all marathon all the time here from now on. That's a - I'd say paraphrase, but it's blatant plagiarism of the mighty Emma , whose medal, pictured here, I covet. It's the big one.When I say covet, I don't mean I'll be nipping across the border to her rural fastness and nicking that specific object. I want one of my own. When you think this out clearly, THIS IS INSANE. I'm doing this race in six weeks aaarrgghh and I WILL PROBABLY DIE. I'm willing to run for more than six hours - not counting the 6-8+ hours/week I spend on the road making sure I don't actually die on race day - just for an awesome bit of tinware such as that sported by my lovely teammate in Stupid Determination. Well let me tell you, my five faithful readers, IT WILL BE WORTH IT. Next time I complain, please remind me I said that.
I had a top run this morning. Unlike last week, I was not only not as crook as a dog, but well on my way by 7am. It was absolutely freezing - 2.5 degrees! - but a gorgeous, still morning with drifts of mist across the paddocks making the cows, trees and haybales etc even more picturesque. Given that Thinking Ahead is the LBTEPA way, I wore my shorts so that I could pop on my compression tights afterward as an experiment for better recovery (I told you VSM training is fascinating).
So. Shorts. 2.5 degrees. OMFG my legs were cold. I carried a water bottle to the start of the rail trail so I could refill on the way back (see? hydration strategy! Fascinating!) , but that meant I could only keep one hand at a time tucked in my jacket sleeve. Brrrr! Untucking them both worked for me a bit later when I slipped on some frost and went down on the asphalt ow ow ow! I gouged a bit out of my hand - it was that or my face, and I was able to continue with a tissue pressed on my palm to stem the gore, whereas a head injury would have meant abandoning the run (see? Stupid Determination! Fascinating!).
Other highlights: being nearly run over twice by a one-legged man on a recumbent bicycle. I am not making this up. On the return encounter, he called out are you in training for a marathon? I answered yes! That is such a cool thing to be able to say! I also avoided a tiger slug a full handspan long. The other cool thing was thinking of a new use for my obsessive watch-checking: each time I checked my watch (to see if it was time for a walk break. I do 4:1 run:walk for anything over 21km. See? The Galloway method! Fascinating!) I checked my form. Good balance? Light footfall? Energy from core muscles not shoulders or legs? As I got tired, I checked my watch more and more often so this worked very well.
My post-run ice-bath was...errrr.....character-building.
27km in the marathon bank is A Good Thing. It'll be a long slow one on July 4th, but I'm getting closer to believing I'll finish.More anon, daydream believers!

It's all coming back to me now

so I put together 24 slooooow km on Saturday morning. It took a loooooong time and it was haaaaard..but I'm finding that all those slogfests for VSM 09 have had some lasting benefits. I know stuff now.
If you just keep going, things pass. The headache, the stupid-orthotic-won't-stay-in-the-right-place, the urgent desire to ring home and get a lift..they pass...or you get used to them and stop noticing. Same thing really
Pain is just pain. It's not good or bad or a reason to stop and sit down on any of the seven Benches O'Temptation along the rail trail.
My overtired inner crybaby cannot be soothed or bullied. She can be told whether you walk or run, we are going all the way home on foot in a kind, calm way.
I'm still a bit scared of unattended goats, even when they're tied up.
Noticing a cow's leg (!!!) behind a bush when you're 3km from the nearest proper road is a bit creepy.
I need new orthotics.
Being able to run for three hours when I have a sinus infection bad enough to need antibiotics which I now have, so now I can get better, yay! is strangely encouraging.
It's a bit sick to look forward to my post-run ice-bath as intensely as I do.

More anon,

Happy Mother's day #2

Race report: Mother's Day 10k
Time: 1.13 (ish) (watch time)(no chips)
Rating: Very Pleased

Rrready to rrrumble!

I was going to start this cautionary, yet happy-ended tale with a list of "Don'ts" but I'm trying not to be so bossy so here instead is a list of "Things That Will Make Your 10k Go Better If You Avoid Them" instead. Mind you read it.
1. Stay up unusually late two nights in a row prior to the run. Include a few sherbies.
2. Walk into a door on your way to bed and give yourself a big painful bruise and a bump that's exactly where the band of your running hat sits on your head
3. Have a bug that gives you the chills/sweats and a squirgly tummy
4. Fail to remind your spousal unit every single day for the previous month that you'll be running on mother's day morning, same as every other mother's day morning since 2003, and he needs to make sure he is available to Noddie-wrangle, not working.

5. Get all flustered and forget to drink anything except one cup of tea on a warm sunny day.

Do This Instead:
1. Be grumpy with everyone - the at-work Spousal Unit, cranky Noddie, the faintly amateurish organisers well it was a cheap race but starting 15 minutes late don't these people have a watch? and of course all the skinnyfasts.
2. Decide that it's such a nice day, and Mother's Day after all, you'll cheer the f*** up and enjoy yourself

Note the fabulous, handmade-by-Noddie Mother's Day necklace

This was my first stand-alone 10km for a couple of years; taking into account the list above and the amount of 'speed' training I've been doing hahahahahaha I wasn't expecting much. It looked like more of the same when only a few hundred metres after the organiser shouted I kid you not, gentle readers ready set go! there was clear air between me and the back of the pack. Oh well. I trundled across the grass and over the trestle bridge, trying to find some smoothness in my tin-man gait. Luckily I'm used to that, so I could soothe the frantic little OMG this is so yucky I wanna go hoommme baby in my head. You know how to do this. Keep doing what you know you should do. This will pass. Setting out with nausea, probably not the best plan, but be calm. Calm helps everything. Don't think about vomiting. This will pass. And little by little it did pass.
The course was an out and back along the river path. It's really pretty and I know it really well so I was able to get into that good split-brain state...one part of my mind on my form and my breathing and keeping it balanced and visualising being pulled up straight and smoothly along by a string out of the top of my head hey it's my suffering, I'll avoid it my way and the other part thinking what a beautiful day, how lucky I am to be here among the trees in the sunshine.... By the time I reached the bridge I was starting to get a bit hot but also to pass people. Slow people, elderly people, but at least I wasn't last any more.
The second half of the outward leg was the homeward route of my usual runs, so every metre is paved with cheerful thoughts. This was good becuase the skinnyfasts started to storm back past me at this point, a bit discouraging...I did clap and cheer for them though, I've been well brought up. It's even more discouraging when they (kindly) wave back and call keep going! Did I look as though I couldn't keep going? Mutter mutter grumble grumble
Anyhow...I got to the turnaround at Picnic Point, right near my house. Mmmmmm....home....but no! I bravely pressed on, because that's the LBTEPA way, and also because I have six consecutive Mother's Day medals so far and by crikey I was having that seventh come hell or high water
Soon after the turnaround, a strange thing happened. I saw someone in front of me - that wasn't the strange thing; she had on a red shirt and was visible for some distance - and started to chase her down.
The Spousal Unit often encourages me to do this. Just look for the person in front of you and pass them, he says. It beggars comprehension how he can have been my Spousal Unit for so long and not have realised that I have Only One Speed. The LBTEPA modus operandi has always been Go until they give me a medal, and then Stop.
But I digress. Gradually I ramped up the effort. Gradually I got used to breathing a bit harder and hurting a bit more. Gradually I reeled her in....and when I'd done that, I did it again. The woman in white, a chick in pink...they came into my sight, I went after them. I have no idea whose legs I had - my sinuses and chest were clearly still mine, the b*******s - but they were powerful and strong and weren't stopping until I had steamed down the chute, my arms raised in triumph a la the mighty Wes, in a three-minute negative split. It was fantastic.
Noddie and Mum rocked the 6km walk, too. Mum had planned to run but gave it up when J's roster snafu came to light. THANKS MUM!! YOU'RE ACE!! When I went to get her a coffee my hands were shaking so badly I couldn't get the money out, but that was ok. There was bling all round, and in honour of the occasion we gave the cake stall a serious going-over well it was for charity.......... The red leather couch in our living room has a view of the hills and is excellent for napping, and there was footy on tv. I love Mother's Day.

More anon, dreamcatchers

Happy Mother's Day

Last night Mum and I trained it 4 hours to the big smoke to be part of the Field of Women, an event supporting the 14,000 Australian women and 500 men who are diagnosed with breast cancer each year. Fourteen thousand. It's hard to comprehend. There are only 12,000 people in my town. Standing on the MCG last night, we were in a sea of pink. The MC asked people to raise their hands if they were breast cancer survivors. So many, many women raised their hands. It was terrible and humbling to see.
I know so many wonderful mums. My sister, my sister in law, of course my own Mum. My late Grandma. Vicki. Erin. Joan. Bev. Misty. Mary. Nancy. Becky. Lisa. Mrs Wombat. Annaleigh. Sue. DeeDee. Jeanne. Linda. So many others. If you're a Mum, you probably don't think you're wonderful. YOU ARE.
It's Mother's day tomorrow. Mum and I will be running together because that's how we celebrate, rat b******* cold or no rat b******* cold. That's what drugs are for.
Make sure you celebrate your Mum, and/or the person who loved you and taught you to be great. If you're a Mum, celebrate your own self. It's a tough gig and you're doing a great job.

code

I hab too buch rodden code habbedig all over my body to run 24km today (coughs, blows nose, feels sad). I'b tryig dot to extrapolate to an Epic Marathon Fail in eight weegs (sniffle, cough, ache). The house is a bess and it's raiding outside, and I was really lookig forward to getting out id the fresh air for a few hours of pleasant sweating. Dow I'b takig the laptop back to bed to write adother crappy essay. Id's by party and I'll wallow in the pity pool (for a limited time only!) if I want to.
Od a brighter dote:
1. I got a new job *beams* I'm so excited!! That's three days a week now - just what I wanted and for a really good organisation too. Everything we hoped for with this move has fallen into place so quickly! We are so pleased and grateful.
2.Mum ad I are goig to this toborrow dight! I was lucky enough to go last time as well - what an experience to be on the MCG with 14,000 other women, all supporting those affected by breast cancer. Can you see me in the picture? I'm in the right armpit LOL. If anyone else is coming, email me so we can catch up!

3. Then it's Mother's day! Yay!

More adod, silver lining-seekers (coughs, gets more panadol)

Hereby

I just worked out it's 61(ish) days until I have to, I mean I get to run, I mean stagger, I mean travel on foot 42.2km at the Gold Coast. It's only 159-ish days until Glory awaits me at the G! Sixty-ish days, two months, might seem a lifetime at the start of the summer holidays, and is forever when you're gestating, but from where I'm standing it's the blink of an eye, I mean really f***ing soon. It is hereby time to get a couple of things out of the way.
1. WTF WAS I THINKING?? I'M NOT READY AND THERE'S NO WAY IN HELL I WILL BE READY BY THEN!!! Two Marathons (and a half) in three months - now is the winter of our bloody discontent, all right! That's 105.5 Very Slow km. More than fourteen hours of racing. Mind you, I will get three medals. Mmmm....bling....Stop distracting me, I'm trying to FREAK OUT here! I HAVEN'T DONE NEARLY ENOUGH WORK! I NEED MY HEAD READ, WHY DO I DO THESE THINGS?*short pause as LBTEPA rocks back and forth, whimpering*
I have come back from Melbourne with a bit of a cold. Colds always FREAK ME OUT. They stir up visceral memories of the bad old chronic fatigue days. So I am hereby FREAKING OUT. Might as well get it over with early, eh? The New LBTEPA Plan for Colds is to sleep sleep sleep, and cut out the cross training. Runs are non-negotiable. They Get Done No Matter What. That's the plan at the moment. I'll let you know how Thursdays's scheduled 24km goes panic panic not thinking about it not thinking about it
*short pause, as above*
2. I'm thinking about doing some fundraising again this year, but I dunno.....I'm having an attack of the CBBs
3. I hereby declare that the new Dr Who is BRILLIANT.
4. I bought a new bag in Traralgon on the way home. It's fab!More anon, sonic screwdrivers!
*CBBs =Can't Be Bothereds

The big smoke

Workouts: 1
Glasses of wine: let's not go there
Hours sleep less than normal: about 8
Pairs of shoes bought: 2
Pairs of shoes bought for myself: 0 Noddie will be so thrilled!
ditto handbags. I hate handbag shopping. Why is my great old handbag worn out? Why is everything in the shops BLACK?
Catchups with dear friends and wonderful colleagues: too many to count *beams*
The thought of my own bed in my own house with my own family tonight: priceless!
All I have to do is get through a day in class and then drive 300km. I can do that.

Floating

Well how embarrassment. There I was posting last time all virtuous about my new drinking habits, and here I am posting after possibly having had a sherby or two. But hey, it's Saturday night here at chez LBTEPA, J is asleep in the recliner and I'm flipping between Rockwiz and the footy. It may be a bit lame but it suits us.
I did 21km this morning. I took the Spousal Unit's advice and headed up the rail trail out of town, and it was very nice. It's all asphalt, kind to the legs, and most of it is surrounded by trees and paddocks and cows and pleasant things like that. it was easy to get into that dreamy, not-noticing-time-passing state that makes the kms pass peacefully. It was raining a fair bit of the way but it wasn't very cold and I was wearing drifit so I was comfortable as long as I focused on my form. If I concentrate on floating along, running tall and smooth and touching my feet softly I feel as though I can go on forever - a good thing when you run as slowly as I do! I went home along the river.
I tell you, not a day goes by that I'm not happy and grateful we've moved to such a beautiful place.
Another thing: ice baths are HORRID but they do the job. My friend the mighty Emma said they were A Good Idea and I do everything she says.
My good commenter P asked me why I've been a bit secretive about my buildup for my second full marathon. I've thought a lot about that and I'm going to write about it in the hope that it might help people who're perhaps not so confident about Tackling Big Goals. I might look as though I just insouciantly announce that I'll do (Insane Thing X) and then casually go for it, all calm and overcoming scary obstacles hither and yon. NOT SO, my people. NOT SO. I'll be candid: I (irrationally(?)) fear being judged by the skinny and the fast. There are many critical voices in my head telling me I'm doing it wrong or not doing enough or I'm too slow or TOO FAT. Every long run goes through a banner with YOU'RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH on it in BIG letters. I spend a lot of time on my runs NOT LISTENING to those thoughts. Long runs give me time to get very clear on what I really want. I'd love to be "fast" hahahahaha or try and meet a time goal, but I don't have it in me to go after that this year. My goals are to finish 42.2km in six and a half hours in July and in seven hours in October. I want two more marathon finisher's medals. That's all. And that's ok. I don't care what my imaginary critics say, they're my precious little aims and I'll nurture them how I want.Now that I've proven to myself that I can do the work, and Be Serious, I can tell you about it. I don't know why I needed to do it this way rather than ask do you think I can do it? I do! Cheer me on!, but there you go. The thing is, my friends, there's no wrong way to chase a Big Dream, except to not do it.
Bedtime now. I have to spend next week in Melbourne for my uni on-campus school. I'm not looking forward to it. Everyone I know who has a spare couch also owns cats.
More anon, sportsfans!

Serious

I had to do an exercise for my counselling subject where I set a goal, broke it down into components and then later rated how I was going. I decided to use it as a bit of a kick-start to do something I've wanted to do for quite a while but never got around to tackling. There are a lot of ways to put this (and believe me I've used them all)
minimise the sherbies
cut down the booze
stay off the grog
but the guts of it is, I wanted to
STOP DRINKING EVERY DAY.
There. I've said it. That's what I was doing. Over this long, exciting, dream-come-true, hard work summer, J and I have come to realise that we handle stress with treats. Usually ones from a nicely-shaped bottle. Hardly ever to 'excess', rarely in front of Noddie, never when driving. Nothing squalid, nothing glamourous. Some days we had just a glass, some days lots more than that. Gradually the frequency crept up.
I've often wondered why hitting the turps is seen as so much more of a fault than, say, eating lots of chocolate - there, see? that just sounds cute! - or wasting time on Facebook - that's social networking! Drinking full-strength cola? That's a lifestyle choice! But drinking every day? Ooooh....that's bad. That's weak. That's half way to bad teeth and derro coats. That's a licence to frown, and make suggestions about 'getting help'. That's something to be judged. Drinking every day cancels out every other virtuous thing you do, and entitles people to look at you with barely-disguised scorn. Even smokers. You know who you are.
Or that may be just Protestant wowser guilt speaking. Buggered if I know, but that's why I didn't blog about it. It was my secret shame. I didn't want you, my five faithful readers, to think less of me.
Then I got this insane idea. It kept ticking and tickling at the back of my mind. I thought I could probably do it, even off the Summer O'Nothing, with Extra Added Lard! But I'd have to Get Serious. In my job, when people say stuff like that, I ask so what does that actually mean?
It means four or five alcohol free days each week.
Ohhhhhhkaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyy........
As you know, I like to failure-proof all my Plans. But this one? I just had to suck it up, face the fact that this unhelpful, unhealthy habit had crept in and Do Something Different. But what? And how would I know when I'd Failed to Fail? When could I raise my arms in triumph and exude secret smugness? I needed a goal. I needed A Plan.
For the Very Slow runner such as myself, marathon training takes a Serious amount of effort and time. The entry fee is a Serious amount of money, and then there are shoes, gels, physio visits and excruciating sports massages ow ow ow. Choosing to do my long runs (they're getting up towards three hours now) on disturbed sleep and all dehydrated would be stupid, and Not Serious At All. How could I Prove I was Serious? By knocking off the vino, that's how! So the Plan Was This: I could only enter the GCM afterI had managed 4 (or more) consecutive AFDs for two weeks in a row. The only person I told of my plan was J.
And you know what? It wasn't very hard at all! I was gobsmacked. All this time I'd convinced myself that it would be really really difficult and I had so much else going on so now was Not The Time.... and then when it came down to it I just stopped. Overnight, I am a person who doesn't drink during the week.
That's good. I wish I could report dramatic weight loss or hugely increased wellbeing or a shinier coat *pouts*. But I can report feeling more self-disciplined and as though I've conquered something I was scared of. That's good.
74 days.....
more anon, self-doubt tramplers!

and then I thought, why the heck not?

LBTEPA BIB NO #0997

78 days..........................

a Good Thing

The Spousal Unit has all but recovered from pneumonia. That's a Good Thing.

Bunny business

How was your Easter? Mine was wonderful! Noddie and I dressed for major hot cross bun shopping on Thursday. Who cares if people in the supermarket looked at me askance? On Friday we made Easter biscuits and rode our bikes along the river. Then our Big Girl walked to the corner shop On Her Own massive! and brought home the fish and chips for tea. I put 16.5km in the Insane Stretch Goal bank on Saturday morning, then spent the afternoon in a pleasant haze of fatigue at the races with my ever-stylish Mum. As befitted such a day, the sunrise over the lake at the Easter dawn service was sublime. A pod of dolphins cruised by just to make things even more special. Did you know pelicans make a LOUD burping sound which is quite disconcerting during prayers? When we got home, the Easter bunny had been!! Noddie had been quite worried that he mightn't know our new address, but the letter she wrote with the details obviously got through all right. In the afternoon I crewed for my dad on his yacht. It was a pretty windy, wet and hair-raising race but Dad's boat can take a bit of wind so we had a rollicking ride. All in all a brilliant few days.
As you may have guessed from the absence of blog posts, I am gunning for the title of Master Procrastinator 2010. Today I bought Noddie some new boots, plus two lamp shades and a small cupboard so our just-inside-the-door-bag-dump is no longer a milk-crate, cleaned the kitchen, did and hung the washing, reorganised the study including cleaning out the wardrobe, re-hung three sets of curtains so they look as though they are in the right rooms (I really do think the former owners of this house were colour blind) paid the bills and finished the filing, applied for a job and made a roast vegie pizza for dinner. All to avoid studying. In the spirit of do what you can I also printed out five weeks' course notes for two subjects. Tomorrow I will sit down, pick up the top page of one pile and see how I go.
But
- I've kept to my exercise goals. Two lots of weights, two short runs and one long, and two rides each week. Writing down my food bores me to snores but I'm sticking with it. When I remember.
- I've drunk more water than can possibly be good for me
and
*drumroll please*
I've strung together four - count them, one, two, three, four! - alcohol free days in a row. I couldn't tell you the last time that happened! When we're under stress, it doesn't take long for J and I to segue from a drop of port every now and then to a big glass of wine every night. And it's not far from there to oh heck, why not finish the bottle? But it's not hard to veer back to the straight and narrow either. Yay.
Posting my intention on FB to run at half-past dark didn't work this morning. The Spousal Unit has gone down like a statue of Lenin in 1989 with an appalling chest infection so I am Nurse Ratched as well as the usual Mrs Beeton, Nigella Lawson and Boss Of The World. I'll have to do weights tonight and either run long tomorrow if J is feeling better or go short and back up with my long run on Saturday. Ah, scheduling.... must be all that anandamide making me so mellow, no?More anon, chocky-scoffers!

The real world

Well this will be a challenge. On FB this morning, all keen and enthusiastic, I posted that I would "do a bike session, weights and 400 words of my literature review today". Ah, charming, naive optimism....
Since then:
I had to fling off the slouchy study duds, transform myself into a vision of casual competence and zoom into town for some weak coffee and no cake (we ate out last night: I don't need any extra extras today) because I forgot about a work morning tea;
I have had a horrid tummy-ache and just want to lie down with a hot water bottle;
and the Spousal Unit was unable to countenance a picnic by the creek near our house on "his day off", (sing it with me all you mums and wives, how nice one of those be?) instead believing it essential to drive half an hour to a nearby beauty spot for a 'nice lunch' of (admittedly delicious) pizza by the water.
Now it's a quarter to four, I still want to go to bed and the word count is at 50. Chateau LBTEPA is an enthusiasm- and motivation-free zone. Will "Find A Way" be the answer?? Or will Finding a Way today mean just Letting It Go?
More anon, makers-of-no-appreciable-progress-who-for-no-fathomable-reason-still-refuse-to-throw-their-hands-in-the-air-and-say-f#$% it! We must stick together, we hardy few!

Find A Way

How patient you are, my five faithful readers! Even though blogging is on my List O'Joy, this week I was unable to overcome my resistance to it and JFWS. I did buy some new shoes on eb@y though....(slaps self on head for digressing AGAIN)
I'm always impressed by people who devise new years' resolutions and themes and This Is Who I am This Year super-words and uplifting mantras. I have often tried to come up with one, but to no avail. I've waited and waited for inspiration. You have to be patient with these things. And The Phrase has to be just right. Neither too fearsome, strident or exacting, nor too much airy-fairy New Age hippy BS. I'm a cranky, country-raised Australian protestant, I don't do that sh$t.
No excuses? Too harsh (ditto No Fear). I'm all about excuses (and terrified bleating), and then cunningly evading or clambering over them on my way to what I want
JFDI? Language! Also, the Words have to help with stuff like getting me out of bed at stupid o'clock - and telling me to JFDI at that hour would likely elicit the response SFO! (Shan't! F* Off!)
Make it so, number one? Not being bald, possessed of a Shakespearian baritone nor in charge of a heavily armed space ship, this wouldn't do. I do try to boldly go whenever possible, though. But still. Not quite right.
Cede Nullis? Yield to none is a favourite, and the motto of my football team, who utterly failed to adhere to it this weekend. It looks like another long season. Sigh. But I digress.... it just wasn't right. Nothing seemed to sum up what I'm trying to do.
Then, as I was re-reading my last post, a phrase leapt off the screen and burrowed its way into my noggin.

FIND A WAY

Perfect! This phrase is like a ladder to see over obstacles and annoyances and a telescope to see my Big Dreams in the distance. It's so handy and easy to use! The Spousal Unit tiresomely sleeps in so I can't go for my ride before church and I'm sailing with Dad after lunch? Find a way! Set up the trainer in the living room and do half the session before and half after! J starts work at 06.00 so I can't run early? Find a way! Run after dinner on a full stomach ergghhh oh well the kms got done. Can't concentrate on writing my lit review? Find a way! Do the bits I can do. Write for 10 minutes. It's an imperative - Find a Way! - and an affirmation of my capability and purpose - I can and I will find a way. You don't have enjoy it or feel motivated either. Just Find a Way.
You're right, it probably isn't the answer to everything, but at the moment it's helping me see past the sick kid and spousal shift work and stubborn extra lard and self criticism and doubt to how cool and filled with happiness life really is.
Hey, I had to tell you about the most awesome Big Dreamer ever! A bloke is celebrating losing his job by selling up everything and travelling the world running 52 marathons - in different countries - in 52 weeks! His race videos are terrific and very funny. Get over to runlikecrazy dot com and cheer him on!
In other news, I'm never letting the Spousal Unit near eb@y again without supervision: he's just bought a boat! Mind you it's probably safer than letting him out fishing on his own - he fell in the river last time. The boat's name is Mad Dog, so J is Captain Mad Dog and Noddie is First Mate Mad Puppy. I'll let you work out my crew name. Bwahahaha.
More anon, tiara-fanciers!

Sunday seven, with extra added Realness

Blogging twice a week is on my List O'Joy but I keep putting it off. It's the same with a lot of things that I enjoy. I don't always put them off by doing Important Things either, like the 3000 words I have due next Thursday, arrgghh. Faffing, shillyshallying, lollygagging....you name it, I'll do it. Who knows why? Who cares? The thing that works best for me is to notice the resistance, acknowledge it, then Get the Heck On With It. So here goes
1. I literally threw my resistance to the winds yesterday at the start of my run along the river with Mum *waves* hi Mum! As we started, I said out loud all the I hate this, this is a stupid idea, I'm so bad at this I don't know why I bother thoughts that I run through like a big banner at the start of every single run. And you know what? Once they were out there, they were gone!
2. Yesterday the Spousal Unit had an afternoon off. This is A Big Thing. The store not only had to be built, staffed, stocked and opened, but also Grandly Opened, involving bouncy castles, sausage sizzles, Humphrey Bear and Shannon Noll. The managers have been working insane hours - we have a photo of J by the door so we know it's him when he comes in. But it's all done now, and we can start to find out what normal life is like here. Yesterday afternoon we went down to the river and sat in the dappled shade, enjoying the sunshine and the breeze and the trees and the water. Noddie and J fished and I read my book. J and I toasted each other - this is why we came here. We did it!
3. As promised in my last post, it's time for Extra Added Realness! I would like to do - and, in the context of my Real Life, am prepared to have a red hot go at training for - both the Gold Coast and Melbourne marathons this year. Melbourne is of course the Big Dream. I'll make a decision about GC on the basis of how my long runs are going when the early bird entries close, or if there aren't any (I can't remember), by May 1st. If I'm not confident of at least three 30+km runs then I'll do the half.
4. To my lovely commenter P: I want to do the Run Melbourne half for four reasons. I love the course and don't really care how long it takes me to trudge around; it'll be a chance to catch up with Melbourne friends; it's a celebration of another year passing since my ankle reconstruction; and the medals are really nice.
5. More Realness (ewww): I'm not physically or mentally comfortable with my weight at the moment. I don't like thinking about my weight. It a) doesn't seem in tune with my beliefs about health, eating and body image in this unreal, sexualised, retouched-image-bombarded world of ours and b) is BORING. But there you go. I also like to feel comfortable in my skin rather than bloated, and to fit into my clothes. I like to feel disciplined. I'm not eating intuitively at the moment, I'm eating - and DRINKING - out of habit. I really, really dislike writing down what I eat but I'm going to do it for one week just to get myself eating more consciously. I need to get out of my comfort zone to get back into my comfort zone, if you see what I mean. The link is to my new theme song!
6. Now that the Spousal Unit will be home more often, The Plan Is This: minimum half an hour of cardio - run, bike, swim - four times a week plus a long run plus two lots of weights. No excuses. I Will Find A Way. I'll have to start getting up early again sing it with me people, eewwww but I can suck up those first few minutes of OMGWTFImustbeINSANE because I'm doing this to get what I want. I WANT MORE RACE BLING!
7. My dear friend and partner in Stupid Determination, the splendid Mrs Wombat, has sprained her ankle badly and will be off her feet for quite a few weeks, booo! She's feeling pretty low, poor lambie, so send her some "hang in there" thoughts, will you? We were talking about the movie she was watching from her sickbed, Run Fatboy Run.
Mrs W: I like him, he's not a real athlete, just persistent like us
LBTEPA: We ARE real athletes. And we're bigger, so that makes us MORE real!
Mrs W: True.
More anon, reality-biters!

Getting real, part one

I'm writing this to put down some things that have been swirling around in the ol' noggin. It's much easier for me to see things clearly if they're in front of me in black and white. This is my study break, though, 'cause I went through my uni notes last week and discovered I have 3000 words due in week 4 - next week! Eek! I need to Smarten Up my study habits quicksticks.
My dear old Tiresome Cheery Friend popped back on the weekend, bless her, to talk me through this wretched cold.
LBTEPA: oh woe, oh woe! My throat hurts and my voice sounds funny; there's gunk when I cough and my joints ache! Oh woe! All Is Lost!
TCF: Hi darl! What's up?
LB: Thank God you're here! I have a cold!
TCF: and you're freaking out because...
LB: I can't exercise! I've tried working out through a cold before and it always goes horribly wrong!
TCF: and this is a problem becuase...?
LB: that's it for my marathons this year! Oh woe!
TCF: petal, just take a deep breath. You're not Wimping Out and Ruining Everything. You're being sensible and managing your health. It's going to be ok.
LB: this must be all my fault somehow
TCF: no no no no my duckling. We were going to try and let that kind of thinking go, yes? This bug is going around! You'll recover quickly becuase you're really healthy and you look after yourself. What's really going on here, LB?
LB: (in a small voice) when my joints ache I'm scared I'm getting chronic fatigue again.
TCF: oh my friend - that is a scary thought! But trust me. This is Just a Cold. It's not a punishment for anything. It's not the end of Big Dreams 2010. You're okay. Everything is going to be okay. What say we take this week to be very kind to ourselves, start our new job and get properly better before we get stuck into the Next Big Plan?
LB: Good plan!
I *heart* my TCF.
- I also *heart* my List O'Joy. Lists are usually about Shoulds, stuff that we include in our lives to get invisible brownie points or ticks on the Worthy Person Scale. I don't need that stuff reinforcing my issues - but I love lists! So I decided on a different approach: what did I want my life to look like, and what would a person with that life do on a regular basis?
My List spans a week now. I do still have daily lists, but they are filled from the L O'J, as well as that other unpredictable stuff that always pops up. It has stuff like clean bathrooms/mop/vacuum - but they're on the list because I like to have a clean house. It has things like exercise, drinking 1.5l water and Alcohol Free Days for the same reason: not because I Should, or as reminders of deficiency, but because I want a strong healthy life.
The joyful sparkly little things like doing my nails and playing the piano (I'm a crap beginner but I have fun) and blogging and knitting have their places on the List. It's too easy to "forget" those things, or put them off or not give yourself permission to "waste time" on them. Their absence makes life such a beige place. I will not have a beige life!
I don't have a set number of things I "have to" complete, either. Life is how it is. The List O'Joy isn't pass or fail. In the frame of my wife/mum/student/employee Reality, it's a colour-by-numbers of the rainbow life I want.
And the other things I've been thinking about? I'm a bit hesitant to write them down here just yet. Maybe I don't want to properly get my head around them? In any case, All Will Be Revealed in my next post. It will have extra added Realness as I Face Up to Things and Knuckle Down. Can you do those things simultaneously? We shall see...
More anon, contortionists!

Meh

I have on my List - the new kind of List that I use these days to make life full of cool amazingness, the List O' Joy, if you will - of which more later, for reasons which will become apparent - to write in my blog twice a week.
Had I written here this week, the content would have had to be heavily edited by the Anti-Grumpiness Censorship Board. In summary
- I was looking forward to the Run for the Kids very much. I even felt reasonably prepared!
- the Spousal Unit was working such insane hours and was so tired and stressed that it became clear that my swanning off to party in the big smoke from Saturday lunchtime until Sunday night (leaving our over-excited, ahem, cherub in the care of my dear mother, who Has A Life) would not be the Right Thing. Booooooo!
- I made other plans and agreed to do other things
- but I was VERY disappointed.
- Especially when it turned out that J wasn't working on Sunday after all!
- So I mapped out a nice long run to do on my own - see all that nice riverbank? So pretty! - and my kind Mum agreed to mind Noddie.
- but now I've woken up with a chesty cough, a temperature and a dodgy tummy, and ditto for poor little Noddie. No two-hour sweatfest in the sunshine for me today. If the panadol kicks in, maybe a session on The Trainer O' Boringness.
Meh.
As I posted on FB, LBTEPA has decided to just sit with her feelings about the Run 4 The Kids snafu and just be........just be BLOODY GRUMPY.
Many thanks to my kind, philosophically-minded encouragers - but sometimes you just have to let feelings happen and pass in their own time. I'll cheer up later.
I'll have a good day anyway - I hope you do too!
More anon, acceptors of imperfection!

When Lists Attack

After my post the other day, one of my lovely commenters commented (as they do) well, JBWS then! So in the pleasantly coinciding interests of pleasing others and doing what I want, here goes.
Today has been a testament to the fact that things do improve if you let them. I woke up a few times last night with horrid horrid dreams involving a perfectly nice high school reunion which turned into a nice walk in the country and ended with one of my classmates - for whom, in waking hours, I have nothing but positive thoughts - being mauled by a lion. Ewww. So then I turned off the alarm because after those horrid lions I couldn't bring myself to think about 5.30. So then I woke up hating myself because I would now never have time to do everything I needed to do today and would let everybody down and was clearly incorrigibly lazy and utterly lacking in character. This is probably WTMI ( you've been warned!!) but bring on menopause, I say. PMS head-messing sucks. And then I walked Noddie to school and realised I was not only wearing my oldest tracksuit pants the horror!... but it gets worse but that they were inside out. So I was a bad mother with no personal standards as well. I think I got away with it though: we were talking about self-limiting beliefs and how they applied to the fact that Gran would be walking her to school every Tuesday from next week when I start my new job. Then I rang my Mum to tell her I couldn't crew for Dad this afternoon (clearly a bad daughter). It turned out that he'd decided not to sail today, (yay!) and also that she too had a long list of Things To Do. Our lists were similar in one key respect: they contained the word "RUN".
It's a short word, run. Three little letters, but just dripping with nuances. It was the thing we each wanted to do most and knew we'd feel good about afterward. It was the thing we'd be most disappointed (and judgemental of ourselves) if we didn't do. And we'd both structured our days so it was the thing we were least likely to get time to do. Without our even noticing, it had become our lowest priority.
Huh?
So we went for our run right then. It was enjoyable and we were happy and now we're both having A Good Day doing all the Important Stuff.
I hope you are too.
More anon, voyagers!

JBWS

stands for Just Bloody Write Something! It's funny, I want to write more and I even think of things to write about, but then any excuse, anything - emptying the dishwasher (yes, we have them here), folding the washing - will stop me. But there's a new kind of magic in LBTEPA-land these days, oh yes there is. It does involve a Plan, of course it does, and list, oh so many lovely lists, of course it does, but it's all about Doing What I Want as well as all the Have To's. These, by definition, do have to be done, of course; they're part of real grownup life, but they - along with my massive talent for faffing about, shillyshallying and lollygagging - have been eating my best life. This is unacceptable. The Plan is This:
....would you believe it? The phone just rang: my Mum's popping over for a cuppa! She's fine and so is the jeep, but the taxi she ran into isn't! This is a job for the good biscuits if ever I saw one.
Later: Mum is 100% fine, just dark about having to pay the excess on the insurance. She passed on an invitation to friend's birthday party too, so I must go and get changed.
More anon!

Light headed

I have printed out this picture and stuck it up in my study

Well blow me down with a feather if ranting about having issues and taking them on with a whip and a chair (whilst fetchingly clad in a tailcoat and topper) hasn't cleared my head beautifully. They haven't gone away, of course, but (at the moment at any rate) I am the Boss Of Them. I feel very light, somehow. I keep thinking of the phrase angels can fly becuase they take themselves lightly. I'm laughing more, and sleeping better too. Mind you, this could be because I've dragged my whingeing backside through the first three weeks of OMG how did I get this unfit I've lost everything I'll never get fit again regular workouts, which Always Suck, and now I'm in that pleasant phase again of feeling stronger and fitter and as though I actually want to exercise becuase it's What I Do. This happens every single time I have a layoff - I always hack out the first three or four weeks, convinced All Is Lost, and I always get to a point where I start to feel good again, and I'm ALWAYS surprised. And then I always think it's funny.
In other news:
OMG OMG OMG I GOT A JOB!! Even though this move is something I am very happy about, and Noddie and J seem to be thriving, I've felt curiously removed, or displaced, if you will. Or even if you won't. I think it's becuase I don't know who anyone is - I didn't Know Everyone where I used to live, but I recognised people from my street or the shops and the school and even had some school mum friends. But here I'm adrift. And with that feeling went a doubting that anything else from the old world was still true - had I ever actually had a job before? What could I actually do? I dutifully looked in the paper each week until I found one that seemed to suit who I used to be. Maybe...maybe.... Luckily I was able to fake confidence for long enough to put together an application that got me an interview for a little part-time job as a counsellor at a TAFE , and flimflam through the interview well enough for them to offer it to me. It may have helped that when when they said so, have you anything you'd like to add? I said please give me this job, I really want it and I think I'd be good at it. I didn't quite hug their knees and beg but it crossed my mind. I start in two weeks.
I tell you what, my ducklings, it is a fine thing that, thanks to the mighty Emma and her book recommendation I always do everything Emma tells me, I have regained my ability to see things (my bottom and thighs) as they really are (PERFECTLY FINE thank you very much), or spending the ENTIRE MORNING trying on ugly and ill-fitting jeans might have done my head in. I was moments away from chucking a massive wobbly in the main street when fortune smiled on me and I found some which do justice to my shapeliness. I bought two pairs. I almost didn't use this picture as it was captioned "finding the perfect jeans for an imperfect body". GRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!! and also WTF???? My body IS perfect! It's the only one I have; it's mine; and I love it!! I won't have it called names!
More anon, lovelies

WTF am I thinking?

May I say, I am Not Thrilled with the way what/whoever is running my brain is going about it. Normally I wouldn't share these intimate maunderings with you, my five loyal readers, for fear of seeming self-indulgent and lame, but a) I thought someone else might read this and find it useful and b) it's my damn blog and as will be become clear, I need to stop listening to the imagined opinions of others. You well-adjusted confident types you know who you are should stop reading here and come back next post.
My perspective is all out of whack. Since mid-October I've passed all my assignments and exams, bought a house, dealt with the Spousal Unit working away all week, maintained Noddie's six-year-old world including birthday parties, dance concerts, end of school and Christmas at our place, packed up our whole place and unpacked it again in the new house, painted two bathrooms, a loo, a bedroom, a hallway and a living room, taught Noddie to ride her boogie board and tie her shoelaces and got her settled at tap dancing classes and school, started uni and a TAFE course, applied for two jobs and got an interview for one (it's on Wednesday, wish me luck!!), and cooked prawn and sweet corn chowder and a proper vegetable pie with a blind-baked bottom and a pastry lattice top. I ROCK, no?
But get this: foremost in my mind, blotting out all of the hard work and coolness of the last five months with its ludicrously inaccurately inflated proportions, is the fact that I've gained 5kg. Eleven pounds. That is pretty much all I have been thinking about in those 2 a.m. wake-and-fret fests. That one thing is the criteria by which I have been judging myself. That is MESSED UP and I'm NOT STANDING FOR IT. I have a Plan, my friends, and The Plan Is This: next time I teeter on the edge of that "weight gain => lazy/disorganised/unworthy/unhappy with my whole self" slough of despond, I'll grab the list of everything I've done, everything I've ever done in my whole life if necessary, and recite it, over and over and over again if I have to. These extra kgs are one thing. I'm doing something about them becuase I like to be able to wear all my clothes and feel comfortable in my skin. But they're not everything.
I have another question for whoever's in charge of the LBTEPA thought schema: what's with all these comparisons? Some of my good friends are really in the training and racing zone right now, pulling out 20km here and 6min/km there with insouciance and no hip soreness. I am so happy for them! I really am - but their hard work and achievements make me feel sick about what I'm not doing. I'm fearful of imagined failure and jealous of their support networks and their apparent confidence. My feet and heart are heavy with this needless burden. As of now, I PUT IT DOWN. We are women trying our best and cheering each other on. My friends are gifts!
Brain, could you make a note of the fact that NOT everything is about me? Today I was talking to a lady at my church, generally a dynamo whose conversation consists of tales of good works and improving activites. She remarked how this very hot sticky weather makes her feel like a complete dishrag - and I realised that my sloth this morning was not becuase I am a big sooky la-la lacking any discernable self-discipline. It was the weather! Must every explanation be a smothering glop of self-criticism? Hmmmmmmmmm?
I find myself thinking "I couldn't do that...." and "I'll never be able to .....". I've been too scared to go to the local tri-club training becuase I'm so slow and heavy, and I almost didn't enter the Run for The Kids because I didn't want my running friends to see me with five extra kgs! WTF IS THAT ABOUT? It's as though everything about me and anything I've ever done is meaningless in the face of being a bit lonely and a bit lardy. It's as though part of me thinks my value is associated with my weight!
THIS IS RUBBISH. My issues exist. Nothing to be done about that. But now I have recognised them for the insidious, joy-sucking harpies that they are. Let me don my tall silk issue-taming hat and my red frock coat, and pick up my whip and chair. I may have to live with them, but I'll make those little b#$!ards sit up and beg, by crikey I will. THEY WILL NOT WIN. I am LBTEPA and I DREAM BIG. I have entered the Run for The Kids and will finish, uninjured, if it takes me all day. I might even front up at the local tri club on Wednesday - I promise nothing.
Thanks for listening as I've faffed on about all this. I feel better already.
More anon, comrades!

perfect ten

I'd like to thank the Spousal Unit for becoming the Spousal Unit ten years ago today. You're ace, S.U. *mwah*

Huffy

To: LBTEPA
From: your knee
Subject: WTF were you thinking?
This is to protest in the strongest possible terms against the behaviour listed below, in which you have been engaging in the most cavalier and devil-may-care fashion.
- "forget" to stretch
- ditto core exercises
- gain weight
- work out with weights on what can only be (very charitably) called the most casual and inconsistent basis
- suddenly start running exclusively on unstable surfaces. Yes, yes, the river is pretty, but a sandy path requires more motion control than we're used to.
- spend a lot of time in the surf. Yes, yes, preventing Noddie from sailing to Tasmania is important, but sand and waves are hard on the knees
- suddenly start riding your bike outdoors. On the road. Up hills. Yes, yes, it's beautiful here what with the paddocks and the river and the view and all, but a little bit more little by little would be helpful. Are you picking up a theme here?
- climb up and down ladders and crawl on the floor with paintbrushes for days on end. Yes, yes, the house was a sea of blah and had to be Dealt With, but really. I don't know why you were so surprised when we jacked up.
In view of the circumstances, i.e. the chaos and excitement of the move, and the fact that you took us to the physio and have been diligent about following her exercises and training advice, we are prepared to let you off with a warning in this case.
Don't let it happen again.
Sincerely etc etc

More anon, tibia tenders!

painting lessons

As I have mentioned, when we moved into our nice new house it was a sea (a swamp?) of BEIGE. I. Don't. Like. BEIGE. I do like painting, so BEIGE's days were numbered.
Painting can be quite the philosophical experience, you know. Listen to music, fill the tray, wipe the roller.... all very meditative. I will share with you now, if I may, the Wisdom of the Fumes.
1. There's no hurry. It doesn't matter if it takes all day, or two weeks. If you know what you want and keep at it, you'll get there.
2. Some things just aren't that important. If people think less of you for something as small as getting paint on the light switch, they're not your friends.
3. Being careful is important. However, sometimes it's more conducive to your happiness to not be too fussy.
4. You can't kid yourself that you like something when you don't. It won't take. Better to do something about it.
5. It's ok to want things to be different.
6. Don't panic if it looks wrong at first.
7. Wait until you can see the whole thing before you decide whether it's a disaster.
8. Sometimes something you'd never have even thought of turns out to be a really good idea.
9. Changing your world takes a fair bit of work, but it's very satisfying and easier than you think.
10. Painting the living room is a good way to celebrate your birthday. Riding a very long bumpy slide down a hillside five times with a tummy full of prawns and champagne is a new one for me, but I can feel a tradition coming on...........
More anon, Rembrandts!

Thursday

Hello there! I write to you, my five faithful readers, from the rural fastness of my (almost) fully assembled, unpacked, unfolded and organised new home. It's nice here. I hope you are all well and enjoying this lovely summer weather, unless you're from the other hemisphere, in which case *snicker*
So much has happened at the new Casa del LBTEPA that I hardly know where to begin.
1. Here is a really truly true Public Service Announcement. As my five faithful readers well know, my sinuses and I have a very special relationship. I hate them; they turn on me at the slightest provocation. Taking them to live in the dusty, pollen-y, smoky (from bushfires) country was possibly not the best idea. In an effort to function I started taking some OTC sinus pain medication that I've had before. I was taking it as infrequently as possible, not even close to the maximum dose. I was finding the unpacking and looking after Noddie a real struggle and was even worried I was falling back into clinical depression again. And then..... I was about to slurp down a couple more of these sinus pills, when I noticed on the package in teeny tiny letters that people taking antidepressants should consult their doctors before using this stuff. Hmmm, I thought, I'm not on ADs but I am feeling more and more thoroughly and pervasively gloomy with every passing day. I don't think I'll take any more of these. So I didn't.
Well let me tell you, my five faithful readers, it was like a switch being thrown. Within 24 hours I was my old irritatingly cheerful bundle-of-energy self. With a face that feels as though it's full of acid, yes, but I'm working on that with stuff that doesn't suck all the joy out of life. So - yes, I have finally got to the point - if you have sinus problems in summer and experience any sort of lowered mood, check what you're taking. Those things are poison to me and they might be to you too.
2. In a sensational piece of serendipity, a friend of mine needed a new home just as we left our old place. Tenants, anyone? We're so thrilled - they're no-BS people, old hands at renting and happy to tell us what we need to do to be good landlords.
3. One of the most fun things about moving house is that you can throw out all your old scruffy tea-towels and get nice new matching ones. Ditto bath mats.
4. Mum gave me a tape measure and matching stanley knife, all covered in roses so the Spousal Unit won't take them to the Shed O'Doom from whence nothing returns. Yes, there's one here too.
5. I love my tape measure. I have a lot of stuff on my walls, and in this house it's perfectly straight, and aligned to perfection.
6. We seem to have acquired two new dogs. They are exact replicas of our previous dogs, but don't bark at the next door dogs or pull washing off the line!
7. When we moved in, every single room in this nice big house was BEIGE. I hate beige. Hate. It. since Noddie started school on Monday I have painted her room pink and purple, as requested - with butterflies! It's too cute! - and the bathroom, en suite and loo pale yellow. They look smashing. Next week I'll transform the front living room from a blah approximation of cosy to a white chocolate den of yumminess. I'm not doing it tomorrow because the job involves unpacking three large bookshelves, and I do need to start organising the filing cabinet some time. Although it might be a good beach day............
8. Noddie has become a complete daredevil on her boogie board. I love going to the beach with her. She's a legend.
9. The view from our front verandah is a few rows of houses and then rolling hills.
10. I live five minutes' walk from the river track. Seeing the sun come up as you run beside the water is exactly as perfect as it sounds.
11.Rain smells so good here. I'm going to go and sit on the verandah for a while before I go to bed.
So when are you coming to stay? Hop on the train, we'll pick you up from the station!

More anon, future guests!

Phew

So here we are.
2 containers of stuff on a BIIIIIIIG truck
500000000000000 boxes, about 90% unpacked
25 trips to the shops to get storage stuff - whoever thought it was a good idea to have no drawers in a walk-in wardrobe? But then, I do have a walk-in wardrobe *beams*
1 new hat for 1 day at the races
1 seven hour round trip back to Melbourne to bring our dogs to their new home
0 exercise. This WILL change TODAY
Feeling a bit like a duck - smooth and unruffled on the surface.......
More anon, paddlers!

Transitions

It's nice and quiet here this morning. The Spousal Unit and Noddie have gone to the hardware shop to get some new toilets (or I think that's what they said). It's cooler today, thank goodness. We were staying cheerful in the heat, of course - we're lucky, we have air-conditioning - but getting really tired. There's been a lot going on.
J's nanna's funeral was on Friday. She was 91 and I didn't know her very well, but it was a sad day.
1. If your mother was a member of a church for fifty-four years, refusing to have a religious service because you're "not comfortable with religion" is LAME. It's not about you. ( J's parents were not involved in this decision, btw)
2. Having the funeral on the other side of the city, effectively preventing her church friends from attending, is thoughtless at the very least.
3. I've told J that, should I predecease him, no-one involved in the service is to have fascinatingly elaborate hair, and if there are any Helen Steiner Rice poems read, I will come back and haunt him. No offence, they're just not my taste.
4. If you were forced to pick, a stinking hot day for a funeral is better than a rainy day.
5. A summer funeral is a wardrobe challenge, but if you could wear an outfit to a nightclub, it's not appropriate for a funeral. We know you're young and hot, but once again, it's not about you.
6. The nasty remarks you make about your nephew's wife organising a service at your mother's church for her friends after the interment will be repeated back to her. She will think you are sad. But every single member of the family showing up to that service was a Good Thing. Very well played.
7. Funerals make people go a bit mental. J's family are really a very nice lot.
We are in a world of boxes, paper, tape and permanent markers at the moment. When Noddie bounces into our room each morning at WTFtimeisit o'clock and announces how many days it is until the moving truck comes (today, Sunday, four), we cringe. Still, we're muddling through.
1. PMS is a bitch and a master of totally wrong and unfair timing. At least I know why no carb in the house has been safe.
2. Champagne might not be the answer, but it helps pass the time until you work it out. I am trying my best to be sensible, but looking forward to being settled again so I can work on my dysfunctional coping strategies.
3. The week before you move 300km IS the best time to get back into a daily exercise habit. It's been hard at times - and MASSIVE THANKS to our darling neighbour for minding Noddie while I went for a run - but I've felt so much better for it.
4. Pack the scales early. You don't need to be thinking about how lardy you've accidentally become.
5. Things pass. Gloom passes, feeling overwhelmed and unsupported passes. Accepting and naming and sitting with the feelings, challenging irrational thoughts - it works. As does just getting on with it. A packed box is a beautiful thing. Anger passes. Biting my tongue is a gift to myself as well as the Spousal Unit.
6. You can't take too much Rescue Remedy. Trust me, I'd know if you could.
7. I don't know how people move house when there's no sport on TV.
8. Noddie and the Spousal Unit are cool and I'm lucky to have them.
9. This, the only un-wrapped picture left in the house, is our motto for the move.
10. New shoes fix everything.
More anon, my lovelies! See you on the other side of the state!

Straight Up

I was going to wrap this post about my plans for 2010 in reflections and cogitations and the difference between goals and aspirations.... and how I'm scared to write them down becuase they are pretty difficult to make failure-proof....and that would have taken me another week to craft into a big slab of pretty words which are actually just talking-about-myself-instead-of-getting-on-with-it...........
but that's all just BS and pandering to my paralysing fear of the Failure Monster.
My goals for 2010 are
1. lose 8kg
2. finish the Melbourne Marathon again
2a. depending on what kind of work I find when we move, do the full marathon at the Gold Coast.
Better get on with it, eh? I'll just have another cuppa first

More anon, full steamers-ahead!