HOT!!!

Humid be f***ed! But let me tell you about yesterday before I jump onto today’s run.

Well, four laps of the park was on the itinerary and I managed to do it in my lunch break.(When I say lunch break, what I mean is, I scarified my half hour at ‘lunch time’ until an hour before I was due to clock out and then legged it to the park.)

So, I limbered up and scared the shit out of the town crier, who happened to be wandering in the park and underestimating how powerful my headphones actually are, was surprised by my ‘HALLO!’ (By the way, my ears appeared to have put on weight because my headphones have molded nicely to me lugs now! At last!)

Anyway, I stretched and set out, feeling reasonably positive. It took about a minute into a KT Tunstall track before I remembered how much I bloody detest LAPS!

It can’t be the repetitiveness of them because a mile is quite a distance and you’re guaranteed to look at different things each time. Also, I’m a repetitive kind of girl, if I like a song it’s constantly on repeat until I actually feel sick at the sound of it! (It’s currently an Amy Macdonald track for reference.)

I’m not sure whether psychologically lapping reminds me of when I first started running, with minimum confidence in my ability my theory was something along the lines of; if I’m lapping, I can give up when I’m tired! There’s no really pressure in lapping apart from the constant nagging in my brain. ‘This is bloody boring Hannah.’

Anyway yesterday I had to run past a gang of adolescent boys, who were innocently kicking a football about before kindly telling me, quite loudly, how much they appreciated my tits! This made the remaining three laps slightly embarrassing. Not to mention slightly infuriating, the piece of scaffolding that is my sports bra cost Scotty Boy a small fortune for Valentines Day and I think it does a reasonably good job of keeping the boys in place!

I also had to play witness to a gang of my service users knocking back what looked like a million gallons of white cider. Tricky, when they live in a dry hostel and will feel the wrath of the breathalyzer as soon as they return for their tea! (There would have been some empty beds last night, I’m pretty sure.)

I managed the four anyway, with a few blind eyes and a forged ignorance whilst bounding past the football team and when I got back to work I was red, sweaty and tired but pleased, I’d battled the laps. I get a lot of support from my colleagues and the majority of service users who have to witness me crawling back through the door sweaty and panting. I’m grateful for the encouragement.

‘Fair play Han, you’ve got a sweaty arse but you’re fit as fuck!’   

The diet didn’t go so well yesterday after I sent Scotty Boy for low fat ice cream. An indulgence that made me sleepy and feel sick not to mention sorry for myself! Will power is certainly something I’ve got to address.  

Today I’m off work and have just come back from my three mile run and like I said earlier; humid be f***ed! On the route I took today I ran past a building that proudly showcases the time and temperature and it only registered at eighteen degrees but it feels much hotter. There have been storms all morning and the air is heavy and so was my heart for some reason. To be truthful I would have liked nothing more today than to have curled up with the dog on the sofa and finished the low fat, low taste, ice cream. I’m going to have days like this, I’m not naive to think I’m going to feel like donning my daps and hitting the track every single day.

I don’t think the fact I saw a squirrel get squashed helped the cause, I did shed a little tear for a few paces and my stomach lurched as I imagined the crushing sound as the poor bugger got caught under the wheel of a Renault Clio. Poor thing.

Now I’ve been, I’m glad I went, which is usually the case, right? My motivation has been awarded a gold star again and I treated myself with an ice cold glass of water as soon as I came back through the door. The drink came after I marked three miles off the chart mind; I even put a little smiley face next to it.  

I’m due a rest day tomorrow and because I’m trying to lay off the old alcohol for a bit I’m wondering whether Scotty Boy fancies a splash about in the pool as an alternative? We’ll see.

We’re off to the city today to try ‘take two’ on the purchasing of new running gear and some holiday clobber.

‘Cant go to Mexico looking scruffy, babe.’ And who am I to argue with that theory?

Saturday I have a five mile run to complete and then a sixty minute walk on the Sunday and that will be week one done! Week one into the twenty one week plan. I’ve planned my route for the Saturday, not too sure about the Sunday though because it’s the Euro cup final or something or other and I’m tempted to participate in a few ‘social hours’???

What was I saying about Will Power?

Seems like a nice fella.