hangover + 5 miles = yuck

Cider is actually the drink of the devil. It’s official. In fact it’s as official as the fact I’m currently dying of a hangover.

Unfortunately I took ‘rest’ day to the extreme and rested my legs in the pub!

It was my first rest day and I took full advantage. I also didn’t eat anything, well apart from some porridge, two welsh cakes (I was actually poisoned by a cleverly disguised coconut one and overwhelmed by a chocolate one!) and a small bowl of tinned macaroni cheese. I consumed my two litres of H2O which resulted in me pissing like a racehorse through out my eight hour shift. I think I  actually burnt the calories, gained by the welsh cakes, off, just by going back and fore to the toilet.

And then came Wetherspoons with Andrea. And then came the Baili with Scotty Boy and then came…well…I’m not sure, memory is a bit fuzzy.

So, I drove to work this morning, which should never have happened given that I breathalysed myself upon arrival and the figures didn’t look good. I ate my weight watchers curry and some micro chips by eight thirty and have since wallowed in my own self pity considering the five mile run I have to complete after my shift.

Five miles suddenly seems quite a distance.

Who am I trying to kid; five miles seems like an actual pilgrimage with this hangover.

I’ve got a few routes in mind but none seem very appealing at this precise moment. I could head down the Taff trail or just meander Dowlais way? I figure if I keep going over it all in my head it may become more bearable. I may even convince myself that it’ll be an easy enough task or that I might enjoy it?

The weather is shit today too which is not helping the cause. It’s raining profusely (word of the day) but is still incredibly sticky!

I’ve washed my long sleeve-super fast top but as I discovered Thursday the sleeves make even my inside elbows sweat! Attractive.  But its actually my favourite garment of clothing at the moment, the thought actually crossed my mind that I should put it on to see the rest of my shift through but I don’t want to over wear it. Don’t want to get tired of it, see?

Thursdays attempt at shopping didn’t go to well on the running gear front. In fact, it didn’t go very well full stop. I did see a ‘I RUN CARDIFF’ t shirt which I wish I’d bought now but apart from that Scotty Boys card did not have the hammering I intended for it.

I did, however, discover frozen yoghurt which made me a happy girl, I’m not sure how I’ve managed to avoid it for so long to be honest. It was like a dream in a pot and even though I had goose pimples because the wind picked up I relished every spoonful.

I’ve sadly given the biscuit tin a hammering today, knowing full well I’m off to Mexico in thirty days! Swapping bikini body for that of a biscuit one! Dedication doesn’t seem to be in my vocabulary today and the thought makes me more pessimistic than I thought possible.

Five bloody miles.

I’ve found myself staring blankly at the training plan for the best part of ten hours. As if staring at it will magically change the fact I have to complete a five mile run TODAY!

I think I’m going to head over to Bryn Bach Park after work, it means lapping again but I feel I need to lap today, really not brave enough for an actual route plus Scotty Boy and Fizzabeth can attend and stroll around the lake. Bit of bonding thank you please.

Five miles.

I’ll feel better once I’ve done it.

I’ll enjoy it.

Five miles.

Five bloody miles.