its a beautiful day...hello toilet!

The sports bra made its debut the night before last, unfortunately so did the bloody British summer.

Boiling.

Not warm, not hot but bloody boiling!

At least I resembled a classy runner. You know the type, proper kitted up, hair back, water bottle in hand. If I do say so myself; I looked the part.

Chubby but professional.

I had full intentions of doing the six miles but after getting to the second mile mark I thought I may combust. There was sweat coming from places that really shouldn’t be sweating.

I’m used to my arse sweating and the normal sweaty zones but sweaty eyelids and a sweaty…well, a sweaty Betty (Eric) is not something I’m partial to.

Yuck!

Anyway, the bra…the bra, was, not so good. I was still bouncing like a good one and still had to wear the Nike training top for extra support. I suppose I shouldn’t be so defeatist, I mean, they’re going to bounce regardless. Now, it’s about getting a hold (excuse the pun) on the amount of bounciness.

So, it was a three miler Tuesday.

Three miles in the sunshiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine!

Scotty Boy came to collect me and kindly pointed out; ‘You look warm!’ That’s why I love him…his intelligence! (By the way someone has now informed my FiFi that the flight to Mexico is in fact eleven hours not the mere five hours I had him to believe.  Bad times.)

Then I did something stupid.

There is something so very wrong about a chubby girl in a professional running kit coming out of Domino’s Pizza with two huge boxes.

And I wonder why I’m not getting slimmer, ey?

Well, I am in full holiday mode, why not?

Now, the reason I had to endure the run at peak sunshine time the day before yesterday was because the mother has finally decided to return from her adventures and I was playing taxi to Bristol International Airport.

It was touch and go whether she’d come home, mind.

But home she came.

I spent the hour and half journey across the border, to the airport with my father, who once gain talked non stop. Although we did enjoy a bit of bonding time via lager and lager shandy respectively at a quaint little beer garden on route.

It was nice.

We waited with baited breath at departures. I wasn’t entirely convinced mother dearest had actually boarded the plane in Zakinthos.

But, at the precise moment my father was asking the bloke behind the café quarter counter how much his crisps were; ‘just for research purposes, see?’ my little brown berried mother rolled up looking all professional jet setter.

I was pleased to see her.

‘Oh it was fab!’ she declared as I paid a ridiculous amount of money to park Jesus (the Ford Focus) for approximately twenty two minutes.

‘I’ve got a new best friend.’ She told us, ‘he went deaf in his one ear out there and got to have it siringed…he took a picture so he’s going to email it to me.’

‘Nice.’ I replied through gritted teeth.

‘Yes, his wife was a picker, like us, you know?’

‘I know.’ I agreed and suddenly felt very tired.

Anyway, I got back to Merthyr just after midnight, rolled into bed and before I knew it the alarm was screaming that it was time to get my fat arse up and out of bed.

I’d had about four hours sleep and was considering wearing an ‘approach with caution’ T-shirt.

My mood was not improved to see the kind man that called me a see you next Tuesday, a week or so ago, in the hostel.

Merp bloody Merp.

Then my favourite resident was moving out, into his own property, on his own two feet.

It was emotional.

It’s so nice to see them move on, letting them fly off into the horrid big wide world, but it’s daunting to. I wish him all the best.

By four o clock I thought I was going to die of tiredness.

‘I have to sleep.’ I think I told Scotty Boy, or I could have just fallen asleep, I’m not sure.

So, there was no running last night.

This plan is heading head first down the pan.

I need to get a grip.

I need to run.

Today is Thursday, which means there are three sleeps until Mexico! It’s boiling, I’m excited, I have to clean the house and I have to fit a run in!

I’m sighing as I type this.  

So, I’d better get on.

P.S; Just for medical reference, I took two constipation relief tablets last night…I’m so wise.

Wont be running until at least eight o clock tonight.

At least.

Enjoy the sunshine.