Raspberry fool

My friend the mighty Emma wrote this recently:
"Before I went mad and became a marathoner, I had the great pleasure to chat to Lee Troop about the marathon. His wife was about to make her marathon debut. She had lived with a marathoner for so long, and wanted to know what it meant to run a marathon. Lee said "You think she would have figured it out from knowing me for so long. It's a long way, and it hurts".
I've never seen a better description. It's a long way, and it hurts."
The rest of the post was about how endurance is a double-edged sword. And it is! So complicated! Maintaining health means listening to your body - am I sick? Am I getting very run down and need to rest? Am I so sore that I need an extra rest day to avoid injury?
But maintaining endurance means not listening to your body! Very Slow Marathon training means wall-to-wall mind/body dualism - get up and run, keep going, don't stop, just a little bit further, four more minutes..... if I listened to my body it'd be like living with Father Jack - SLEEP! EAT! DRINK CHAMPAGNE!
So how was Saturday's run, I hear you ask? Bad luck if you didn't, there are 24 days until VSM#2 so it's all marathon all the time around here. I've warned my colleagues: when it comes to polite enquiries about my training, either be prepared to use your containment skills or Don't Ask.
My run was "good". I "enjoyed" it. That's "good" as in my nutrition and hydration went perfectly, apart from a bit of chafing from my new camelback. I've been using Endura gels b/c they a) are Australian made and owned b) don't give me a tummy ache or the sugar shakes and c) they're cheap. I am very tinny. In a huge bit of sad endurance sport tragic news, they have added new flavours to the range! Helloooo raspberry! No more bleah citrus for me, yay!
It was also "good" in that I didn't sit down and cry anywhere (or die). Please note I never said anything about not wanting to - the hills were both sizeable and numerous, and as a Stupidly Determined Larger Runner, gravity hates me. I "enjoyed" the run in that I was happy about my pace, my mental strategies and not feeling compelled to sit down and cry anywhere (or die). And seriously, the Rail Trail is such a gift. It's a fine gravel surface the whole way, gorgeous, gorgeous countryside, farms, forest, mountain vistas.... I even heard bellbirds! And the Big Scary Cows with the Big Scary Horns on the wrong side -the trail side - my side! - of the fence in the middle of nowhere didn't chase me after I sidled nervously past them.
Ice baths are ice baths nonononodon't makemeaarrgghhf***f***f***please canIgetoutNOW?, but I am officially a Huge Fan of compression tights for recovery. I think I might need a new pair........
Something funny just struck me - when I read Emma's post, I thought she calls herself a marathoner. I don't think of myself as 'a marathoner'. Now I've re-read this really slightly obsessed post, I think the evidence is against me! 25 days, people.....
Other grouseness in The Sweet Life of LBTEPA: Oh my but isn't the latest series of Dr Who BRILLIANT? I crochet while I'm watching, and the episodes have been so exciting my tension goes all wrong and I've had to pull bits out!
J is in Melbourne doing training this week so Noddie and I are heading down on the train on Friday afternoon squeals and girly handflaps - we haven't been on a train journey for EVER, then off shopping for new tap shoes and a red teapot, among other fab things ditto, then out with friends to a real Vietnamese restaurant for salt and pepper squid. Thinking about this makes me so happy I could just cry.

More anon, lotus-eaters!

When in doubt....

....put up a sign on the pantry doorspend some money weatherproof your new phone - ooh! It's red! Thanks J!and get out there again.
06:30 tomorrow. 31km. It's on. I'm scared.
See you in Bruthen.
More anon, trailblazers!

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!