marathonmummy

In the last month I’ve seen a podiatrist, a physiotherapist, a chiropractor and an osteopath. I’ve been poked, squeezed, clicked, popped, prodded and twizzled. Continue Reading »

I have been tagged by carpeviam, the inspirational goddess of marathon running and all round funny person, to list 10 things that make me happy. [I've also been tagged by the lovely Paula aka CaulaCaulaCaula in a similar fashion, so being lazy this covers both.]

1. Family – here we are this Christmas. Please note I have managed to avoid being in the photograph. I’m crafty like that.

2. Friends – this picture shows a small but very lovely selection. Yes, we had been drinking wine.

3. Tea. Kettle must be freshly boiled, tea must be decaf, milk must be put in afterwards and semi skimmed or whole, never skimmed (ugh). Yes, I really am quite fussy. You noticed.

4. Bookshops – until our lovely Borders closed, I was to be found hiding there as often as possible, drinking coffee and reading books, hidden in a corner. These are our kittens, Edward and Bella, who have inherited my love of books. Or maybe just small spaces.

5. My garden. Don’t be fooled by those hens. They might look cute, but they ate all 100 of my tulips last year, and they crap everywhere. They do lay lovely (occasionally tulip flavoured) eggs, though.

6. Skiing – I keep hoping my running experiences will end up like my skiing ones. My learning curve was very steep. In my first week, I went from lying in a foetal position on a nursery slope, weeping that I was scared I’d fall off the side of the mountain, to a red run. Now it’s my favourite thing in the world. Unfortunately I’ve yet to feel the same love of running that I have for skiing. That’s why you should all be impressed by me running a marathon, because there are about a million other things I’d rather be doing.

For instance, having

7. Baths – with a magazine, a glass of something lovely (Laphroaig will do nicely) and no interruptions from small people needing to go to the loo.

8. Wine – I know, I’m training for a marathon, my body should be a temple, etc, but a glass or two of red wine is good for the heart. Isn’t it? Oh, don’t tell me otherwise, I don’t want to know.

9. The wonderful world of the internet – for an arch-procrastinator like me, it’s a blessing and a curse. I spend far too much time reading the Runner’s World website for tips, when I could be doing something boring but constructive, like work. Or housework. Or running, instead of reading about it. Ugh.

10. Sleep. When you have children who get up at 5am sleep makes you very happy. In fact it’s the holy grail of the parenting world. Talking of which, I might have a little snooze before school pick up time.

Tomorrow: more about running. Today I realised I’m getting fitter. Hooray.

One hour one on one pilates lesson = owwwww!

Everything aches but in a very good way. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a million presents to wrap. More later.

I guess for every good run there’s a crappy one.

run run
oh help need to wrap presents and my shin hurts
run run
haven’t made pastry for mince pies yet
run run
must get the other part of Zoe’s present
walk walk
help I have no energy
run run
must do some work to earn money for skiing holiday
walk walk
I hate running, why am I running a marathon?
run run
I hate this song
run run
I hate treadmills
walk walk
I want to stop and lie down
run run
urgh, this is hopeless
stop

at least I ran though; I guess that’s something. But sometimes it’s really hard, running when you just want to lie down on the couch and watch television.

This one isn’t about running. It’s about why we’re running. Three years ago today, Zoe and I lived through the hardest day of our life; our father’s funeral. He was only 55 years old, and looked ten years younger. He was dynamic, funny, stubborn, loyal, kind and thoughtful. He lived in a tiny village in Lincolnshire which he happily referred to as ‘the arsehole of nowhere’, having escaped London ten years before. The last thing he did was typical of him: he’d just taken on some new employees and he took them out for a meal, because he was worried they’d be lonely and bored, having just moved to the area. That night he went home, felt ill, and died of a heart attack before the ambulance arrived.

It was impossible for anyone to believe – my dad was tall, strong, fit enough to beat the younger men at work in their occasional after-work sprint, played the odd game of football, ate a reasonably healthy diet, very rarely drank alcohol and had never smoked in his life. Everyone agreed that yes, he was a couple of stone overweight, but ‘he carried it well’, so it didn’t matter. Only of course, it does matter. His diet wasn’t really perfect (too many stops at service stations for a Ginsters pasty and a Mars bar in lieu of lunch on the way to see his beloved Falkirk FC) and in reality he was probably four stone overweight, but at 6’3″ nobody really noticed.

Heart Research work in the community to encourage lifestyle choices for a healthier heart. In other words, they get out there and tell people what they should and shouldn’t be doing. They help perfectionists like me, who would rather do nothing than not give it 100%, to realise that every positive step helps. Because I’m overweight, because I’m in a high risk category, because of my family history, because my cholesterol levels were raised at my last blood test – their amazing work makes me realise that even my pathetic attempts at training for the marathon are helping to make my heart strong. And when the time comes and I start begging you all for sponsorship (don’t worry, I’m not hinting…yet!) remember it’s not for me, it’s for the amazing work that they do and for the lives they save.