Week Four 13.3.17
3834 km 3.08 cal. 291 time 29m
A brisk five-minute walk, then eight minutes of running, five minutes of walking and eight minutes of running.
Week five! Over half way through. I like that. I like it so much I mess up my timings and only do 29 minutes instead of 31. Never mind. Weds will be more exciting for it.
On my own today, so sleep in. Naughty. Get up to see Victoria Derbyshire ensconced in a semi circle of people who believe (or not) that dogs can sniff out cancer. Must be a trend – only the other day, there was a woman who could do the same with Parkinson’s. Ian Duncan Smith did a good job of undermining the voice of science and good sense by quite reasonably suggesting that if it works, it might be worth a try until something more, well, scientific comes along. Nothing is, apparently, that simple. The NHS can’t keep dogs – what about feeding them, walking them? I feel my brain glazing over. I say, stop arguing about it and let those who want to be diagnosed by a savvy four-legged friend at least have a try.
Homes under the Hammer is on the other side. Dare I? I feel myself being dragged under by the 80s current. Presenters who echo the fashions and music of a bygone age, entrap me.
I finish my toast. Drink my tea. Stare at the screen goldfish-like.
Eventually, when I’ve seen how much profit everyone has made, I curse my luck and get into my leggings. Blue sky and a surly breeze. Perfect washing day for sheets and towels. Damn!
The sheets blow dry and I run. Marianne Faithfull is in full flow with some of the most colourful language I’ve heard set to music. I imagine that some of the (quite ball-shrivelling) accusations are aimed at Mick Jagger, not that he will give a hoot. I find that I like the narratives more than I thought I would. Four letter, mainly anatomical words abound, along with ever more cutting recriminations and a slightly contradictory world view. Go Marianne!
Is it smoking that gives her voice such gravel?
I run. Almost without noticing. I have absolutely no shortness of breath, although my legs wouldn’t cope for long with a faster sprint. I might try next time.
My garden is coming along. I edged some of it yesterday but was awake all last night, itching. It’s either cancer of the kidney or an allergic reaction to some of the weeds I strangled.
Fingers crossed. There are three dogs in the impasse.
Times’s up. Saunter. Smug expression. Lunchtime – does it count as lunchtime if I’ve just had breakfast?
I believe it might.
Week Four 15.3.17
4089 km 3.32 cal. 314 time 31m
Blue skies and garden coming to life. Feeling on top of the world. No time to write blog. Too much to do.
Week Four 18.3.17
4729 km 3.88 cal. 369 time 34m
Missed Friday so just did my run today (Saturday). I tuned in to the music of Queen and hoped it wouldn’t go on forever. When the rhythm took me I upped the energy level and was surprised how fast I could go. Pushed myself. Actually got out of breath today. Time was up, but Brian Ferry started singing More than This and I wasn’t going to stop him. Took me back to the idealism of my youth and made me want to write a book. I’d call it The Bits that Matter. In the meantime, I have to practically re-write my second Alice Candy mystery. I’m up for the challenge, though. My advice: Get running – there’s nothing like it for boosting those brain cells.
My posts have shrunk. If anyone is reading them and notices, apologies. I will probably get back to normal next week. Probably But as long as I’m doing the running, that’s the main thing, isn’t it?
A la semaine prochaine x