Back on track

I'm sitting with a beer in our backgarden, typing into a laptop, which is glaring back at me a reflection of myself: still a bit plump despite all these miles I've covered, and requiring a haircut. The next door neighbour is strimming her garden. I did mine yesterday. That is how bloody settled and grown up I am. I mean, I just bought bulbs for a hanging basket for goodness sake!

Our cat is being de-territorized by the neighbour cat, who I have to admit is nicer to stroke and is a bit more friendly (I hope Colin doesn't read this). It's reached the point now where Colin needs to be persuaded to step outside the back door to join us. He is a bundle of squauks and miaows, and very very needy. This may have something to do with me utterly pandering to his every whim. I currently let him wake me up at 5am, whereupon I feed him, falling asleep downstairs until he wakes me up, when I let him outside to perform his ablutions. I will then allow myself to be woken again less than 2 hours later to let him back in again. He sleeps soundly during the day, except on those days where I practise a similar style of sleep torture on him in a futile attempt to teach him a lesson. When I actually start my job, and I'm not around during the week, Ian informs me that Colin will lose all of these privileges.

And to think that when I start work in Children's Centres in Great Yarmouth I'll be part of a team that among other things is trying to improve people's parenting skills, such as learning how to say 'no' to your children.

This week I ran with Ian for the first time, and, notably this was my fastest ever run. I blamed Ian for starting out too quick, but I sustained this pace, and it was obviously a really unfriendly thing to do. He managed to keep with me though, and he even tried to pass me at the end. How dare he!

Then Ian and I joined the council gym scheme, for a one month taster thing, £25 each. This week I've been in twice, once for a swim, and then running on the treadmill for 40-odd minutes at a pretty good pace. I also did some weights, and spent 20 minutes on what my friend Caroline once unforgettably described as my 'incredible flying machine'.

Today's run really does mean that I'm back on track. 81 minutes, slightly faster than last week's long run, over the 10k barrier for the first time (actually over 11k). I feel like I will be more than able to do the Sheffield run in a few weeks time, but not at any kind of pace.

I will also admit here to having nipples, and that they are starting to chafe a bit. I would have bought Vaseline in Poundland today, but I couldn't cope with taking it to the till. Ian suggested that I use his Vaseline lip chapstick, which provided a humourous image.

And as James notes running is pretty dreadful. I stayed up to watch the marathon last night, and those guys were in advanced states of bodily distress. How is that a good thing? I cannot really say a good word for it. Like some kind of junkie, the endorphine high is harder to come by now. I guess in that way I can see how people start to work out harder and harder, although I can't help but think that heroin would be easier.