week three; here we bloody go

So, its day one of week three and I’m gliding through my rest day like an overweight hippo on skates!

I’m slightly stiff in the old leg department but what’s really breaking my back (not literally) is the damn cuts on both my boobs. Why I thought it would be a good idea to wear two bras is completely beyond me! Every rational bone in my body must have gone on holidays Saturday.

Now, like I’ve mentioned before, I have a substantially high pain threshold which has been fully tested to the limit this week. Showering with cuts on your boobs is possibly one of the most painful activities I’ve ever participated in. I wasn’t even aware I knew that many swear words until our state of the art bollocking power shower gave my poor boys a complete hammering.

Even Scotty Boy was concerned which is a complete wonder. He lives by the motto; go hard or go home. My screams that were worthy of an Oscar seemed to really portray some of the pain I was experiencing and he bit his lip and gave me sympathetic eyes.

Yesterday was the Wimbledon final and I managed to be reasonably well behaved; only consuming five pints of Coors out of a possible ten or eleven. Plus, Scotty Boy made me walk home so I definitely covered the thirty minute walk that was rota’d on the plan.

I’ve had a full day shift today and succumbed to the fish shop and lunch so I’m back to dreading weigh day tomorrow! Three weeks today until Mexico and I’m still chubby. Still chubby yet still consuming crap food.

TUT TUT!

I wore my brand spanking new running jacket to work today, which I know is against the rules, but I wanted to get a feel for it, after all, we’ll be on a few journeys together in the foreseeable future.

It’s not raining today by the way. Typical.

Tonight me and Scotty Boy have said we’ll go for a nice walk, a nice gentle walk, I hope because I’m pretty rigid. I’ve also got a chapter to write for le’novel, which is going reasonably well if I do say so myself. Will tiredness overtake, that is the question.

This week I have a three mile, five mile and then back to three miles before embarking on a ten miler Saturday! The thought of ten miles is making me quite queasy and I’m trying to work out where the hell I can go.

I could do the nine mile I did this Saturday, going a little further down the valley or I could run from Pontypridd back to Merthyr which is around the thirteen mark. I’m not sure what to do yet.

Scotty Boy bought himself a new pair of cycling shorts over the weekend so he’ll be stepping up a gear on the biking front. Maybe he can find me a suitable ten miles? Watch this space.

Short and sweet once again today as there’s been no running and not a lot to document.

Apart from the pain and the chips that is!