Having been shamed by the fact that I have slacked off a mere three days into my new running schedule (and Jen's 7am running!) I forced myself out of bed super early today, breakfasted on chocolate and Berrocca, and headed out for a pre-work run.
I am not, and fear I never will be, a morning person. It didn't go well....
On the plus side I've downloaded 'Girl with a Pearl Earring' onto my MP3 player ~ so i may not be a bouncing morning workout babe, but at least I got meself a bit of culture en route.
Showing posts with label running. Show all posts
Showing posts with label running. Show all posts
Friday, May 23, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Getting there
First and foremeost, heartfelt thanks to everyone who has passed on their kind thoughts following news of the miscarriage. I really do appreciate it.
And thank you to Zinnia for pointing me in the direction of Boob Pencil. So much of Clare's experince mirrors mine, and there's a comfort in reading about someone else going through, and ultimately coming out of the other side of, the same load of shit. "21 Reasons Why a Miscarriage is A Bit Rubbish" made me laugh, a lot, at a time when I didn't think I could manange to twitch the corners of my mouth into any semblance of jollity. The following excerpts were especially welcome [& I hope it's ok to reproduce this here?]:
(11) It goes on forever. I think most people assume (I certainly did) that you collapse in a big pile of blood for a few hours, and then it's all over. But no. It takes days, sometimes weeks, for it all to come out. And modern scanning techniques mean you often know (as we did) it's going to happen before it actually happens. So first you get the waiting. Then the bleeding. Then more waiting. More scans. More bleeding. And so on. It's rather tiresome.
(12) You don't get anything proper to grieve over, so you feel you have to gloss over it all the time. Unfortunately, your hormones don't agree.
(14) Babies and pregnancies and all related matters are fucking everywhere. You will not escape.
(15) It's a very common complaint. It doesn't even make you special. At least if I'd given birth to a half-horse-half-hippopotamous it would have given us something to talk about.
(19) People's faces. Ally said last week he didn't want to go into work cos he couldn't be arsed arranging his face. People are either too sympathetic or not sympathetic enough. I don't want people to act like nothing's happened, but I don't want them fawning all over me either. Sorry folks, you're best avoiding me for a bit. I don't have an Etiquette Guide for this one, and I'll change my mind from one moment to the next.
(20) Sick leave. The pain and the bleeding come and go. The tears come and go. Sometimes I'm fine. I feel crap for taking all this time off work. But I really don't want to go to work. But I still feel guilty.
Number 20 is especially pertinent to me. I took all of last week off work. Coming back on Monday was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Not because I dreaded the sympathetic head tilt and wan smile that I’ve seen a thousand a day since it happened (see number 19 above), but because it marked the end of it all. Back to normality.
When I was pregnant I loved having this tiny little secret that I carried wth me everywhere. And even following the miscarriage everything in my life was still all about the baby and the pregnancy, albeit the loss thereof. I enjoyed (as far as possible, given the circumstances) my week of coccooned protection from reality. Things were still going on outside my four walls, but they didn’t touch me. I was safe, removed from it all. It was all still "special”, somehow. But starting the week on Monday was like someone had hit rewind, and I’d gone back in time two months, to the days before the wee one existed at all. And I hated that part of it, the sense of erasure. Things aren’t special anymore. My breasts don’t hurt, I don’t feel sick, I’m not exhausted. And I can’t talk to him in my head anymore, which I miss, because I used to do that all of the time.
But on the plus side I have thrown myself into reading (such an escapist pursuit) and writing (ditto), and I’ve been running again. In fact, on saturday I went running in my gorgeous local park. I was really enjoying the catharsis, until I bumped (not quite literally, but almost) into the lady from the hospital who peerformed my scans and had the unenviable job of telling me that there was no heartbeat. I ran away pretty fast, not least in case she told me off for runing 8 days aftr a miscarriage, but it shook me up quite considerably.
But I'm much much better now. I'll never be totally over it, but I'm getting as close to "over it" as I can.
And thank you to Zinnia for pointing me in the direction of Boob Pencil. So much of Clare's experince mirrors mine, and there's a comfort in reading about someone else going through, and ultimately coming out of the other side of, the same load of shit. "21 Reasons Why a Miscarriage is A Bit Rubbish" made me laugh, a lot, at a time when I didn't think I could manange to twitch the corners of my mouth into any semblance of jollity. The following excerpts were especially welcome [& I hope it's ok to reproduce this here?]:
(11) It goes on forever. I think most people assume (I certainly did) that you collapse in a big pile of blood for a few hours, and then it's all over. But no. It takes days, sometimes weeks, for it all to come out. And modern scanning techniques mean you often know (as we did) it's going to happen before it actually happens. So first you get the waiting. Then the bleeding. Then more waiting. More scans. More bleeding. And so on. It's rather tiresome.
(12) You don't get anything proper to grieve over, so you feel you have to gloss over it all the time. Unfortunately, your hormones don't agree.
(14) Babies and pregnancies and all related matters are fucking everywhere. You will not escape.
(15) It's a very common complaint. It doesn't even make you special. At least if I'd given birth to a half-horse-half-hippopotamous it would have given us something to talk about.
(19) People's faces. Ally said last week he didn't want to go into work cos he couldn't be arsed arranging his face. People are either too sympathetic or not sympathetic enough. I don't want people to act like nothing's happened, but I don't want them fawning all over me either. Sorry folks, you're best avoiding me for a bit. I don't have an Etiquette Guide for this one, and I'll change my mind from one moment to the next.
(20) Sick leave. The pain and the bleeding come and go. The tears come and go. Sometimes I'm fine. I feel crap for taking all this time off work. But I really don't want to go to work. But I still feel guilty.
Number 20 is especially pertinent to me. I took all of last week off work. Coming back on Monday was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Not because I dreaded the sympathetic head tilt and wan smile that I’ve seen a thousand a day since it happened (see number 19 above), but because it marked the end of it all. Back to normality.
When I was pregnant I loved having this tiny little secret that I carried wth me everywhere. And even following the miscarriage everything in my life was still all about the baby and the pregnancy, albeit the loss thereof. I enjoyed (as far as possible, given the circumstances) my week of coccooned protection from reality. Things were still going on outside my four walls, but they didn’t touch me. I was safe, removed from it all. It was all still "special”, somehow. But starting the week on Monday was like someone had hit rewind, and I’d gone back in time two months, to the days before the wee one existed at all. And I hated that part of it, the sense of erasure. Things aren’t special anymore. My breasts don’t hurt, I don’t feel sick, I’m not exhausted. And I can’t talk to him in my head anymore, which I miss, because I used to do that all of the time.
But on the plus side I have thrown myself into reading (such an escapist pursuit) and writing (ditto), and I’ve been running again. In fact, on saturday I went running in my gorgeous local park. I was really enjoying the catharsis, until I bumped (not quite literally, but almost) into the lady from the hospital who peerformed my scans and had the unenviable job of telling me that there was no heartbeat. I ran away pretty fast, not least in case she told me off for runing 8 days aftr a miscarriage, but it shook me up quite considerably.
But I'm much much better now. I'll never be totally over it, but I'm getting as close to "over it" as I can.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
C'mon, Kingsley!
Decided that after the general apathy of the last few weeks (some of it entirely self-indulgent, some of it due to a horrible cold-y thing that I couldn't shake off, which gave me the energy levels of a dying fly) I decided to start this week with a good old shake and dust-down.
Decided to be super-positive, and I whizzed through the day with bags of energy. Then I managed to take myself off for a not-too-shabby three mile run, followed by a bit of structural research for the novel.
The "bounce-back" attitude clearly worked: This morning I was delighted to be offered a fantastic part in a play (I've been known to tread a board or two, in my time, although its been a few years), working with a script by a writer I know personally and admire a great deal, and a wonderful director who I've worked with a few times before. I'm going to have to turn it down, sadly (reasons why will follow ~ they're non-negotiable), but just to be offered it was an amazing boost, and extremely flattering.
It's been a good week so far.
Decided to be super-positive, and I whizzed through the day with bags of energy. Then I managed to take myself off for a not-too-shabby three mile run, followed by a bit of structural research for the novel.
The "bounce-back" attitude clearly worked: This morning I was delighted to be offered a fantastic part in a play (I've been known to tread a board or two, in my time, although its been a few years), working with a script by a writer I know personally and admire a great deal, and a wonderful director who I've worked with a few times before. I'm going to have to turn it down, sadly (reasons why will follow ~ they're non-negotiable), but just to be offered it was an amazing boost, and extremely flattering.
It's been a good week so far.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Phew!
Last night, after work, I managed to:
Read about 200 pages of HP7
Write 1060 words of the work in progress
Watch “Heroes”
Go for a 4 mile run.
Not bad for an evening's work!
Doubt I’ll be able to keep the pace up every day of the week, but I’m pretty chuffed overall.
Looks like I might be making Saturday’s 7k target after all!
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Can't think of a title
I really can’t (that doesn’t bode well for a budding author, does it?)
Nothing dramatic going on, but lots of lovely progress, in general really:
· The new book is starting to take shape, slowly but surely. I’m still only jotting brief paragraphs & ideas down at the minute, hence the mini-word count, but I’ve had some great ideas about character, themes, plot development, so I’m feeling very very positive about it. On the subject of plot development, many thanks to everyone who has shared their plotting ideas and book suggestions with me, both on here and over on the novel racer’s blog. I am creating a sort of amalgamated version of several of the suggestions and coming up with my own peculiar method, and it seems to be working so far. I’ll blog a wee bit about it when the plotting is all in place.
· On Saturday I attended a writing day school as part of my OU A215 writing course ~ TOTALLY inspirational, and I’ve come away with a new project partially on the go ~ the topic was life-writing, something I never really envisaged myself really going for, as previous attempts at autobiographical writing have been quite difficult for me. Nothing seems to come to me, apart from things that I don’t wish to write about, and I am fearful of offending my family and friends too (it feels like a gross intrusion to write about them, to create a version of them that they have no control over).
We tried out a few exercises in the class, and I found that a lot of childhood memories of my grandparents flooded out. In fact everything I wrote that day was connected to them somehow. Ever since I have found myself frequently recalling memories of them, especially related to their house (which is, incidentally, the house in which myself and my husband now live ~ we purchased it from my grandmother when she moved into a bungalow). I feel like I’m surrounded by ghosts, not in a spooky sense, but in a personal and emotional sense.
So, for reasons as yet unknown to me, there are stories about the house trying to get out, and I think I’d better start recording them. I’ve set a notebook aside especially for writing these memories and anecdotes down as they come to me. As I said, no idea what they’re for, just yet, but I think it will all come to make sense eventually (as well as giving me a head start on my life writing assignment for the course, too).
· I’ve been running again, a lot, after the pre-wedding / honeymoon hiatus. It’s a relief to get back into it, to be honest ~ not least as the writer’s backside is developing an unattractive case of post-wedding spread. No, its nice to be getting back to being fit again, and to getting outdoors for the inspiration. Tonnes of ideas occur to me when I’m running, usually triggered by happening upon something I would not have seen otherwise. I’m still nursing, from several years ago, the image of a buckled metal fence, with bits of car bumper embedded in it, with a bouquet of those trick flowers that a magician would use lying nearby. There’s a story there somewhere, I’m sure…. On Sunday I went running in Jesmond Dene, and I’m still smiling ~ absolutely beautiful location.
Facebook: there’s a lot of it about all of a sudden, isn’t there? I don’t really know what I’m doing, why I’ve been invited/added or what it’s for ~ is it like Myspace but for grown ups?.....
Nothing dramatic going on, but lots of lovely progress, in general really:
· The new book is starting to take shape, slowly but surely. I’m still only jotting brief paragraphs & ideas down at the minute, hence the mini-word count, but I’ve had some great ideas about character, themes, plot development, so I’m feeling very very positive about it. On the subject of plot development, many thanks to everyone who has shared their plotting ideas and book suggestions with me, both on here and over on the novel racer’s blog. I am creating a sort of amalgamated version of several of the suggestions and coming up with my own peculiar method, and it seems to be working so far. I’ll blog a wee bit about it when the plotting is all in place.
· On Saturday I attended a writing day school as part of my OU A215 writing course ~ TOTALLY inspirational, and I’ve come away with a new project partially on the go ~ the topic was life-writing, something I never really envisaged myself really going for, as previous attempts at autobiographical writing have been quite difficult for me. Nothing seems to come to me, apart from things that I don’t wish to write about, and I am fearful of offending my family and friends too (it feels like a gross intrusion to write about them, to create a version of them that they have no control over).
We tried out a few exercises in the class, and I found that a lot of childhood memories of my grandparents flooded out. In fact everything I wrote that day was connected to them somehow. Ever since I have found myself frequently recalling memories of them, especially related to their house (which is, incidentally, the house in which myself and my husband now live ~ we purchased it from my grandmother when she moved into a bungalow). I feel like I’m surrounded by ghosts, not in a spooky sense, but in a personal and emotional sense.
So, for reasons as yet unknown to me, there are stories about the house trying to get out, and I think I’d better start recording them. I’ve set a notebook aside especially for writing these memories and anecdotes down as they come to me. As I said, no idea what they’re for, just yet, but I think it will all come to make sense eventually (as well as giving me a head start on my life writing assignment for the course, too).
· I’ve been running again, a lot, after the pre-wedding / honeymoon hiatus. It’s a relief to get back into it, to be honest ~ not least as the writer’s backside is developing an unattractive case of post-wedding spread. No, its nice to be getting back to being fit again, and to getting outdoors for the inspiration. Tonnes of ideas occur to me when I’m running, usually triggered by happening upon something I would not have seen otherwise. I’m still nursing, from several years ago, the image of a buckled metal fence, with bits of car bumper embedded in it, with a bouquet of those trick flowers that a magician would use lying nearby. There’s a story there somewhere, I’m sure…. On Sunday I went running in Jesmond Dene, and I’m still smiling ~ absolutely beautiful location.
Facebook: there’s a lot of it about all of a sudden, isn’t there? I don’t really know what I’m doing, why I’ve been invited/added or what it’s for ~ is it like Myspace but for grown ups?.....
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Keep on running....
For some reason, recently, I’ve spotted a lot of babies socks lying on the pavement ~ at least one a day, and on Saturday whilst out running I saw three. Maybe the babies are trying to tell us something...
Sunday was a gorgeous day (apart from the point when I think a speed camera nabbed me, I hope it was just the sun glinting off it but I'm not overly optimistic…) and after taking my grandma for lunch the fiancé and myself did a bit of gardening (I’ve planted some courgettes ~ hope they come to something. I was quite successful with peppers and tomatoes last year). But the odd thing was, there was a strange flying thing (not a wasp, but similar), which hovered at head-height on the side path and wouldn’t let us past. It was literally squaring up to us, and intermittently it would fly a few feet away in order to ‘challenge’ another of these peculiar flying things before returning back to the exact same point of its hovering sentry duty. What ever it was, it was very territorial.
And then last evening a bat flew past me, right outside my front door. I’m sure I should be reading something into these ‘signs’.
“Two years ago I couldn’t run a mile”, says Jane. Me neither. But there was something about running that fascinating me, kept pestering me the same way the pesky novel kept digging me in the ribs until I sat down and started writing it. I persevered: from my inaugural run (where I managed the grand total of 89 steps in a row ~ seriously, I was so inept there was no point trying to time myself or measure distances, I counted those early runs in terms of total steps) I have managed to complete the Great North Run, and regularly take part in local 10k runs. I can’t imagine my life without running now. And I’m particularly interested in Jane’s section on what to do when you’re running and you need the loo: the only time I ever suffer from penis envy is when I’m caught short in the middle of a long run….
Today I ordered a copy of Lucy Diamond’s “How do you want me?” and I’m really looking forward to reading it.
Writing tip of the day, courtesy of Stephen King:
Never look at a reference book while doing a first draft
You want to write a story? Fine. Put away your dictionary, your encyclopedias, your World Almanac, and your thesaurus. Better yet, throw your thesaurus into the wastebasket. The only things creepier than a thesaurus are those little paperbacks college students too lazy to read the assigned novels buy around exam time. Any word you have to hunt for in a thesaurus is the wrong word. There are no exceptions to this rule. You think you might have misspelled a word? O.K., so here is your choice: either look it up in the dictionary, thereby making sure you have it right - and breaking your train of thought and the writer's trance in the bargain - or just spell it phonetically and correct it later. Why not? Did you think it was going to go somewhere? And if you need to know the largest city in Brazil and you find you don't have it in your head, why not write in Miami, or Cleveland? You can check it ... but later. When you sit down to write, write. Don't do anything else except go to the bathroom, and only do that if it absolutely cannot be put off.
Tip-top-tastic luck to all the marathonees this weekend ~ I'll be watching, in envy and admiration.
Sunday was a gorgeous day (apart from the point when I think a speed camera nabbed me, I hope it was just the sun glinting off it but I'm not overly optimistic…) and after taking my grandma for lunch the fiancé and myself did a bit of gardening (I’ve planted some courgettes ~ hope they come to something. I was quite successful with peppers and tomatoes last year). But the odd thing was, there was a strange flying thing (not a wasp, but similar), which hovered at head-height on the side path and wouldn’t let us past. It was literally squaring up to us, and intermittently it would fly a few feet away in order to ‘challenge’ another of these peculiar flying things before returning back to the exact same point of its hovering sentry duty. What ever it was, it was very territorial.
And then last evening a bat flew past me, right outside my front door. I’m sure I should be reading something into these ‘signs’.
***********************************
I’m enjoying reading Jane Henry’s blog about her marathon memoir “Running on Empty”, and I shall be ordering a copy asap. I am officially in awe of anyone who has completed a marathon, seeing as how I have only tackled a half marathon thus far. It’s on the “one day I will…..” list, and I did try (unsuccessfully) for a place in the FLM ballot this year. Maybe next year.
I’m enjoying reading Jane Henry’s blog about her marathon memoir “Running on Empty”, and I shall be ordering a copy asap. I am officially in awe of anyone who has completed a marathon, seeing as how I have only tackled a half marathon thus far. It’s on the “one day I will…..” list, and I did try (unsuccessfully) for a place in the FLM ballot this year. Maybe next year.
“Two years ago I couldn’t run a mile”, says Jane. Me neither. But there was something about running that fascinating me, kept pestering me the same way the pesky novel kept digging me in the ribs until I sat down and started writing it. I persevered: from my inaugural run (where I managed the grand total of 89 steps in a row ~ seriously, I was so inept there was no point trying to time myself or measure distances, I counted those early runs in terms of total steps) I have managed to complete the Great North Run, and regularly take part in local 10k runs. I can’t imagine my life without running now. And I’m particularly interested in Jane’s section on what to do when you’re running and you need the loo: the only time I ever suffer from penis envy is when I’m caught short in the middle of a long run….
Today I ordered a copy of Lucy Diamond’s “How do you want me?” and I’m really looking forward to reading it.
Writing tip of the day, courtesy of Stephen King:
Never look at a reference book while doing a first draft
You want to write a story? Fine. Put away your dictionary, your encyclopedias, your World Almanac, and your thesaurus. Better yet, throw your thesaurus into the wastebasket. The only things creepier than a thesaurus are those little paperbacks college students too lazy to read the assigned novels buy around exam time. Any word you have to hunt for in a thesaurus is the wrong word. There are no exceptions to this rule. You think you might have misspelled a word? O.K., so here is your choice: either look it up in the dictionary, thereby making sure you have it right - and breaking your train of thought and the writer's trance in the bargain - or just spell it phonetically and correct it later. Why not? Did you think it was going to go somewhere? And if you need to know the largest city in Brazil and you find you don't have it in your head, why not write in Miami, or Cleveland? You can check it ... but later. When you sit down to write, write. Don't do anything else except go to the bathroom, and only do that if it absolutely cannot be put off.
Tip-top-tastic luck to all the marathonees this weekend ~ I'll be watching, in envy and admiration.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
(pre-) Dawn of the Dead
Word count so far this week = not much at all: I'm getting married soon, and myself and the fiancé have spent most available evenings and weekends on wedding stuff which never seems to end. It’s all very exciting, but very time consuming too.
On the plus side my new laptop EVENTUALLY arrived, so as soon as I have a few free evenings (which won't be until towards the end of the week as there are 120 invitations to be written over the next couple of evenings and my mum is running it like a military exercise) I can get on with the task of transcribing my reams and reams of handwritten stuff.
I am ruthlessly keeping the laptop internet free, as I have realised that I do not have the willpower to avoid trawling cyberspace for total crap in the name of "research". And despite the word count being low the words that did make in onto paper were written in a couple of early morning, pre breakfast sessions, and as a staunch non-morning person that’s some pretty impressive behaviour for me. I have come the realisation that if I am to commit many words to paper/screen over the next few months I am going to have to cultivate a fairly unshakeable daybreak attitude to my writing. It’s the only way in light of the tidal wave of bridal matters which will be slapping me full in the face between now and the wedding.
In fact, I am so resigned to the diminishing hours available for doing my two favorite things (running and writing, in case you’re wondering. Eating, sleeping and the other are going to have to go onto the back burner for a while!) That I even bopped out of bed at an ungodly hour this morning and attempted a quick three mile run. PRE-EIGHT A.M.!! My body hated it, and hated me for forcing it to do such an unspeakable thing at such an unspeakable hour. The rebellion took the form of a total refusal to co-operate, rather like a toddler that won't put its anorak on: legs and brain put up a fairly impressive protest, which I gamely ignored, so much so that the attack advanced and I developed a sort of temporary hysterical blindness in one eye. Nice. Anyway, I lived to tell the tale, and am feeling undeniably smug now (cos, you know, I ran three miles before 8 o’ clock this morning. I’ll shut up about it now….)
Hope you other racers are all speeding ahead ~ I have theatre tickets for tonight, so I see another early start for the writing tomorrow. Yawn.
On the plus side my new laptop EVENTUALLY arrived, so as soon as I have a few free evenings (which won't be until towards the end of the week as there are 120 invitations to be written over the next couple of evenings and my mum is running it like a military exercise) I can get on with the task of transcribing my reams and reams of handwritten stuff.
I am ruthlessly keeping the laptop internet free, as I have realised that I do not have the willpower to avoid trawling cyberspace for total crap in the name of "research". And despite the word count being low the words that did make in onto paper were written in a couple of early morning, pre breakfast sessions, and as a staunch non-morning person that’s some pretty impressive behaviour for me. I have come the realisation that if I am to commit many words to paper/screen over the next few months I am going to have to cultivate a fairly unshakeable daybreak attitude to my writing. It’s the only way in light of the tidal wave of bridal matters which will be slapping me full in the face between now and the wedding.
In fact, I am so resigned to the diminishing hours available for doing my two favorite things (running and writing, in case you’re wondering. Eating, sleeping and the other are going to have to go onto the back burner for a while!) That I even bopped out of bed at an ungodly hour this morning and attempted a quick three mile run. PRE-EIGHT A.M.!! My body hated it, and hated me for forcing it to do such an unspeakable thing at such an unspeakable hour. The rebellion took the form of a total refusal to co-operate, rather like a toddler that won't put its anorak on: legs and brain put up a fairly impressive protest, which I gamely ignored, so much so that the attack advanced and I developed a sort of temporary hysterical blindness in one eye. Nice. Anyway, I lived to tell the tale, and am feeling undeniably smug now (cos, you know, I ran three miles before 8 o’ clock this morning. I’ll shut up about it now….)
Hope you other racers are all speeding ahead ~ I have theatre tickets for tonight, so I see another early start for the writing tomorrow. Yawn.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Oh, what a beautiful morning......
....oh, yesterday was a beautiful day!
Actually, I've been having a lovely time since Monday evening (yes, sorry, that does sound unbearably smug and "Pollyanna"...). I spent ALL of monday evening reading and writing, which felt extremely satisying and productive. And then yesterday I made an early start as the fiance had to be up unfeasibly early for work, so i attempted some morning pages (ok, morning page, singular) despite the fact that my eyes were barely open. I've never quite got the hang of morning pages, so i wasn't best pleased to see them rear their head in A215: I attempted them previously when I was working through The Artist's Way, but I am really not a morning person so I've never managed to keep them up for very long. Plus, I have a friend who had a very nasty experience where uncensored subconscious outpourings + prying eyes of someone who really shouldn't have been looking = hideous big emotional mess. Hhhmm, might perservere with them a bit longer, as I can see the benefit, but I doubt i'll ever be able to write in a truly uncensored fashion....
Then yesterday evening I went for a lovely run of 5.55 miles. It was intended to be a 6-miler, but I had to snip a wee bitt off the end because I felt like I needed the loo. The only time I suffer from penis envy is when I'm caught short on a run....Anyway I reasoned I desereved the treat of not doing the last half mile as I has broken a personal record over the first 4.5 miles, and was feeling like I'd worked hard enough already. Its lovely now that it stay lighter for longer, and it was just heading into dusk as I set off, which makes everything look mauve and grey and pretty (even if I WAS running through an industrial estate!) Nice hot shower, steak sandwich and chips, Life on Mars on the TV ~ pretty perfect all round!
Fiance is out tonight so I will get a tonne of writing done. Think I've finally got my mojo back now that we're shaking off the cold clamp of winter. I have an assignment for A215 to do, so i'll get that done tonight and see if submission of our first tuorial pieces goes any way towards shaking awake the graveyard which is my online tutorial group...
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Ready, Steady, GO!
Kate Harrison has very kindly added me to the Novel Race, so i am metaphorically lacing up my Asics this very minute.
As I said previously, I haven't a hope in hell of winning this race, but then again I had less than no chance of winning the Great North Run but I still entered: my only desire was to finish, and in one piece, and I managed that, so i am transferring that same wish to the novel in hand: finish it, without it finishing me first!
And anyway, it's not the winning, its the taking part that counts, isn't that right?
