Awakening

Noddie and I are back from three splendid days in the Big Smoke, shopping and culture-vulturing and cheering at the Grand Final parade and eating things we don't have at home like sushi and Vietnamese pork rolls and good Chinese food in groovy little cafes an arm-width wide. Noddie was absolutely thrilled with our hotel - not only did we get to eat breakfast In A Restaurant - what could possibly be more awesome? - but there was a gym on the second floor where she could try all the machines while Mummy ran on the treadmill.
It was here, dear readers, that your heroine had an epiphany. It's been a very long time since I've run in front of a mirror. As I ran, I had to look at myself. And do you know what I saw? I saw heavy and bloated and tired and sad.
I look how I feel.
You may have noticed that I've been very down these last couple of months. If you haven't, it's becuase I have been functioning on manufactured "up", fuelled with food and wine. That mirror told me that I can't do it any more. I have to start using coping strategies that don't involve food and drink. I told J how bad I've been feeling and he's going to help me.
There are eight more sleeps until TBLRCU. I couldn't feel less like doing it but I'm going to. In the world of the Stupidly Determined Very Slow Marathoner, guts overcome fear and faith conquers doubt. Which is good because I couldn't be more doubtful or scared. But you know what I say to that? Scared schmared is what I say. More anon, rock stars!