POUND THE ALARM!

I’m writing this playing naked living room. I’ve just bollocked a 3.7 miler in this ridiculous sunshine and to say I’m tepid would be an understatement.

Yes, the girls back and the ‘serious’ training is underway. Well, the sort-of-serious training has began. After nearly a week of skinless boobs and bad food choices I’m about to stir this shit up! (Gangster mode.) I have just over five weeks to get this arse into thirteen point one miles fit and to be truthful I’m kind of scared.

I started yesterday with a brand new, no impact, no movement, all in all wonder bra! Not literally, obviously, I haven’t needed a Wonderbra since I was twelve when I desperately trying to pull off the Marilyn Monroe look at a school disco. (I should mention, I had limp brown hair and a retainer to boot, here.)

Anyway, like I’ve just mentioned…it’s boiling! Proper summer sunshine, which was predicted seen’s as the schools started back this week.

And you all know how sensible I am, I wore head to toe black and decided to embark on my outing as soon as the sun was at its highest point. After all, where’s the fun in an easy run, ey?

By the way, I’m jumping forward a bit here. Let me take you back to the beginning of the week. After weighing and becoming highly hysterical in Boots after the discovery that I had ungraciously gained three pounds, Yes, my heftiness is desperately trying to make its comeback, I dragged my feet to the leisure centre where I managed a depressing half a mile swim in just under thirty minutes. I probably could have managed a good half hour more if it wasn’t due to the absolute miserable bastard of a girl they had life guarding that day.

Now, I’m not one to moan…at least not much…but seriously this girl must have gone to the school of pure misery and graduated with a first in slapped arse rudeness. For the first time ever I learnt what hate at first sight is and I’m considering voicing my disgust via a letter or at least a shitty review. Watch this space.

Anyway, moodiness aside, my half a mile got me thinking about statistics in general, or should I say MY statistics. So, here’s a little table for you to ponder.

Activity	Time taken
Walk a mile	15 to 20 minutes (depending on footwear/ hunger level/ drunkness level)
Run a mile	9 to 10 minutes
Swim a mile	55 minutes
Drink a pint	10 minutes
Drink a shot	10 seconds

I gained so much perspective by this table its unreal. It actually made me consider massive lifestyle changes. For example; I should definitely NOT walk home from the Baili, I should always walk after tea (three courses if possible) and I shall definitely not consume any more pints. Its wine all the way from now on.

Right, so that was Tuesday…on Wednesday Scotty Boy bought me a new MP3 player. Having survived with my Nano for quite some time I decided I needed something simpler. You know, something that I could choose what songs to put on without Apple dictating what Itunes it thinks I should endure.

So, bringing my shiny new blue thingy home I was mortified to find it took me just over four hours to work the bloody thing out and even now I’ve only got 44 songs on the bastard thing.

Oh , but before we went to purchase my new toy I had to take a visit to the GP! Oh yes, it was smear and hormone imbalance time.

Firstly, I was given some hormone tablet things to get my menstrual cycle as normal as humanly possible for half a boy! (That’s a joke, I have boobs and a vagina, three vital signs I am definitely a woman)

‘You have bloating and loose stools to look forward to.’ The GP told me trying to hide the glee from her ‘I earn one hundred grand a year for this fun’ face.

‘Great.’ I said.

‘Now pop along and see the nurse for some swabs.’

‘Great.’ I mirrored with my, ‘You earn a hundred grand a year to be a bitch’ face.

‘Legs open then!’ Now, any females who’ve been through a smear, swabbed, blah, blah, blah, unpleasantness, you’ll know that these situations are not fun for anyone. For ANYONE!

‘Right Hannah, give us a cough.’ She said, to which I obliged.

SNAP!

BANG

‘Ooh!’ she said. ‘Well, in thirteen years this has never happened before.’

‘What?’ I said panic literally flying through me.

‘You must have bionic vaginal muscles, you’ve snapped the thing!’ She didn’t use the word ‘thing’ she used some technical, complicated phrase.

Now, I’ve blushed many times throughout my life, like the time I told a random boy that ‘I like grass’ or the time I farted in aerobics during the stretching when everything was eerily quiet, but to have something snap inside me was a whole new ball game.

‘So, Eric’s an athlete.’ I added, nervous giggle and all, and then literally wanted to die.

Obviously the nurse had no effin idea who Eric was and I should have been quiet at this point, like completely silent!

‘You know, with strong muscles, haha.’

‘Mmmm.’ She said inserting a new whatever.

I left the doctors that day vowing to never return and I mean it!

Then came the new bra which I modelled for Scotty immediately. Bouncing in every possible way.

‘How does it feel, Span?’ he asked to which I nearly burst into tears. ‘What?’ he asked.

‘It’s good. Full of support.’ I said sadly.

‘So?’ he said, confusion spreading across his face like the twelve o clock shadow.

‘So, now my belly feels like it needs to be strapped.’ Naturally husband dearest pissed himself and then suggested I lay off the chips and maybe do some sit ups?

My answer consisted of something along the lines of; ‘fuck off!’

Yesterday the bra, MP3 player and a tight vest under my top to keep the belly in place made its debut up the field.

‘I’ll try a little one to get everything going.’ I tried to justify.

‘You’d better do something you’ve only got five weeks.’ The human calendar squawked at which point I wondered why the hell I’d married him.

I managed a mile and a half. And the bra seemed fine. I say fine because they all seem fine until I take the bloody thing off. The MP3 player was slightly disappointing as it’s a tad Bjork; Oh so quiet!

‘Back in the game…sort of.’ I panted on my return.

Me and Scotty boy then embarked on a seven and a half mile walk which would have been marvellous if I hadn’t begged him for chips, cheese and beans in some grotty Kebab shop on route, which I quaffed in about three nano seconds. (Should have added that to the statistics table!)

I’m no snob and I’m even well in favour of the ten second rule when food hits the floor, I will eat absolutely anything, but seriously this shop was dodgy. I didn’t tell Scotty Boy but there was an actual poster declaring that some foods may contain Sulphur! Yes SULPHUR! Fair play, we know how to live.

Back to today. Three point seven miles! I’m quite proud although when I think that in five weeks I will have to double that route and some in front of people, I feel slightly queasy.

It was a comfortable run today and I did note that the boys did not move. They were as still as statues and as I’m spread out, not unlike the day I was born, on the living room floor, I have no cuts, no blisters and my rack seems remarkably in tact.

Halleluiah!

Apparently, the key to not getting beeped at by passing cars is to keep your breasts in one place. Oh and to ensure your joggers are not below your arse! (That was an embarrassing run.) So, all in all I have, along with sweat, a massive amount of positively radiating from me.

I should mention that I did have about a minute walk right in the middle of the route today. As I’ve said, the new fandangle MP3 player is not the loudest and on a stretch of road that seemed to be attracting every single ray of sun I heard this funny groaning noise which both startled and confused me. That was until I realised the noise had come from my own throat. Know, like those annoying tennis grunt things? I did one of those! Highly embarrassed and slightly shaken that I was capable of sounding like a complete twat, I slowed to a walk to get some normal breathing on the go. Oh the shame!

But that was then and this is now.

So, it’s Friday again and I have a full weekend of work to endure this weekend! Boo Hoo! Husband is taking me on a date tonight which is quite exciting. Well, as long as he remembers to pick up shampoo on the way home or it’ll be a night in a baseball cap in front of the telly for me.

I’m hoping to go to Brecon for a wander and possibly some food without sulphur.

We’ll see.

Have a good weekend!