Howdy partners!
Right, where was I with this running malarkey? Oh yes; I had completed my first three miles post honeymoon…then I completed a very gruelling four and a half miles the day after, since then…jack shit.
Yes, the girl who’s signed up to do her first half marathon in a mere seven weeks has lost her mojo. Well, technically it’s not my mojo it’s my bloody skin.
Yes, once again the quest for yet another sports bra has begun.
After the four and a half miles, which I was pretty proud of because I hadn’t felt like doing half a mile, I showered, as one does when they are covered in sweat and general mank and the pain! Oh the pain!
If you were passing Gelli Dawell at some point on Tuesday and heard something along the lines of a twenty seven year old getting murdered, it was just me getting in the shower.
And as you probably know, or don’t, getting in the shower is enough of a task for me anyway. (It was Scotty Boy who taught me to wash in the correct manner…hygiene has never been my forte. In fact, I see washing as a general waste of time but that’s a whole other blog!)
The skin under all my left boob had been ripped from its original place and decorated the inside of my useless, yet-again expensive bra.
‘What’s happened now?’ Scotty Boy asked with a definite rolling of his eyes. I think he’s fed up of my attempted justifications for not actually wanting to run.
‘My breast!’ I say in the most dramatic voice I can summon. I even put my hand on my forehead and swoon a little…for dazzling affect, you’ll understand?
‘Hannah…WHEN. ARE. YOU. GOING. TO. BUY. A. PROPER. BRA?’ The husband asks in a tone I’m not quite accustomed to.
‘When they make a proper bra.’ I reply with a cute expression.
But to be truthful something has got to give and I don’t particularly want it to be the boys!
I’ve rested for the last three days in an attempt to let the cut/blister/raw bit of tit heal to an OK state so I can pound the pavement once again. To be totally truthful…I’m scared.
My boys are one of my more endearing features (along with my eyebrows and toes I’d like to add) and the scarred and battered look is not a good one for double F’s.
But I’m a martyr to the cause and after work today I’m going to do a five or six miler.
Definitely.
I can’t wait.
It’s not like I have a choice in the matter anymore, anyhow.
The Baili Glas Amateur Running Club has been officially set up, we have a designated charity and we’ve begun to fundraise. So, people are putting they’re hard earned cash towards an amazing charity but in order for this to come full circle I have to run and complete thirteen point one bollocking miles.
I hope my hair grows by then, I want to wear it in plaits!
In all seriousness; ‘Isabella’s wish to Walk’ is a very worthy cause and if you fancy donating I’ve popped all the links on here. Go on, you know you want to.
Hopefully in the next few blogs I’ll know a bit more about my running team so I’ll divulge all necessary information to you.
In the meantime, I’m concentrating on the actual running, an actual, proper sports bra and some actual decent straightening of new Lily Allen fringe!
Have a good bank holiday.
Catch you soon.
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