She's at it again

Yes, LBTEPA is drying out for a month (and a long month too, none of this namby-pamby February nonsense [which is Not Going To Happen because my birthday, wedding anniversary and summer are in February and quite frankly in summer charitable self-denial doesn't stand a snowball's chance in hell against the lightly-clad, slightly sweaty juggernaut that is warm-weather hedonism]) for charity, health and a challenge to the currently rather flabby LBTEPA self-discipline. As my five faithful readers know, I am fond of a sherby, so this will be A Good Thing in many ways. In the spirit of tightrope-walking across Niagara Falls in a blindfold because it's Just Not Hard Enough otherwise, I will also add a No Bleating clause to the deal - I whinge about choosing to refrain from communing with my good friends chardy and bubbles on any form of social media whatsoever, I match whatever's been donated. Whaddya reckon?
Click here to guilt me into keeping at it donate money for support services for adult cancer patients. I'm off to the pool now. It's a quiet time of day and the lifeguards could do with some amusement. I live to serve.

More anon, splashers!
(and don't forget to click!)

Head-spin

I went to the physio the other day, as you do, and I was telling her about the amusement I provide to the lifeguards with my endless wading and hopping and deep water running with a pool noodle that looks like a waggy yellow tail
and she said
they'll be laughing on the other side of their faces when you cross your next marathon finish line
.
.
.
and I said, do you really think I'll do another one?
and she said briskly (she's a brisk woman), there's no reason why not. It's healing beautifully and has a great range of motion. Once you can hop you can start cycling and running, and that shouldn't take more than another three weeks
.
.
.
It. Was. Good. News!
I was literally speechless. All I could do was shake my head and try not to get all teary (see 'brisk', above)
I can't remember the last time I've had good ankle news. I had quite a lot of bad news, as you know, and recently some pleasantly hopeful and even promising news. Good news! I'm not sure I know what to do now! Can I summon the energy or even remember how to be  happy and gung-ho and hopeful and disciplined? I shall give it a crack though. You watch.

More anon, space cowboys!

Scout's honour

I'm taking this as my motto today

Feeling a bit discouraged about my athletic life (at the moment consisting of deep water running with a bit of wading thrown in, plus getting sicker and sicker (stupid chest infection Will Not Go) and heavier and heavier, which is a drag hahahaha did you see what I did there?) but Not Giving In. For that is not the LBTEPA way.
What's your motto? Why?
More anon, smilers!

Complicated and intense

That was intense. And complicated.
A good day, though, and an important day. 

 

The survivors' club. Relieved and exhausted smiles.

It was well done. Thanks for saying so.

So glad we all made it through in one piece

 

I'm still really churned up. I feel like bursting into tears a lot. I think all the sadness and worry that had to be desperately squashed down so I could keep everything going is starting to bubble out, now that it's safe. I'm fine though. Just happy and so so tired. I'm ready for the next adventure now.

More anon, glitterbugs!