I’ve been nominated for an award. In fact, I’ve been nominated for SIX awards!
They don’t have a category for ‘crappest marathon runner’ or ‘eater of the most chocolate in one sitting’ (a giant bar of Cadbury Whole Nut, if you’re wondering). But I have been nominated, and I know I should be cool and matter of fact about it but I’m not! Yay!
And if you want to vote for me too, well, hooray.
And if you already did, thank you for that too – if you were here, I’d share some of my secret Green & Black’s stash with you. I never win anything, so even being nominated has made my day.
I’m off to cast my vote. There are lots of amazing writers in this funny little blog world (see my links at the side there for some of them, although it’s a constantly list) and it’s nice to be able to show my appreciation.
It’s also a lovely diversion from thinking about that thing that’s happening in 25 days. Gulp.
Or, how I didn’t run yesterday and haven’t run today. Yesterday I wrote all afternoon, so we can excuse that on one level (New Year’s Resolution no.1 was to get on with writing) but I could have run on the treadmill in the evening as planned. But by the time I’d sorted out cold weather clothes for the children’s return to school and done bedtime and bathtime, it just didn’t happen.
But that’s okay, I thought. I should have time to run once I get them off to school, even taking into consideration the fact that the washing mountain is threatening to take over the utility room. But then I hadn’t seen anyone for ages, and somehow I ended up making bacon rolls and drinking tea with my friend this morning. And then it was preschool pickup, and then I had to go and park at school a whole hour early to get a space near school in the horrible snowy slush.
But that’s alright, I thought. I’ll have a banana whilst I cook their dinner, then I’ll run when they go to bed. And I would have. But instead I slipped on a pile of to-be-put-away clothes on the stairs and hurtled down them, landing in an ungraceful heap. So now I’m covered in bruises, a little bit shaken up, and feeling rather sore. I’m doing a Scarlett O’Hara, and I’m going to think about running tomorrow.
Or, how the best laid plans can go wonky when children are involved. Having arranged for my mum to look after one child so I could run this morning, I was all set for my run with Katie. Unfortunately I had one of those nights where the children were wandering round the house deliriously and throwing up. So no running today, or at least not till tonight when I’ll have to do another treadmill trot. I was really looking forward to getting out, too. Luckily the children have made a miraculous recovery, so we’re having a lazy day at home.
Whilst I’m here, if you don’t mind, there’s something I’d love you to do: go to the National Autistic Society campaign page and have a read. They’re another charity who are very close to my heart.
Shall we assume that my body has decided to get everything it possibly can now, to get it over with? I like that idea. Everyone in our house is still feeling a bit limp and feeble, and there’s been lots of lying around watching films. My lovely mum made soup and a casserole so we could eat healthily when cooking was the last thing we could think of, and her partner Chris brought it over first thing in the morning before he headed off to work. Meanwhile I’ve been sorting out this website and getting in the mood for Hallowe’en, even though right now I don’t know if we’ll be well enough to go guising (or trick or treating as it’s known to you non-Scottish people reading). The good news is that Jessica informs me she’s done two runs this week, so at least one of us is running – does that count, do you think? And Zoe and I have a training weekend scheduled for the 20th of November where alongside running, we’re going to map out our plans for the next six months.