Tuesday, 12 April 2011

It's all fine.

Really, it is. I finished the course of antibiotics last night. Even went for a short run yesterday morning, and another this morning. 3.5 miles each time, and it was great. I shouldn't really be doing much this week as the marathon is on Sunday, but with almost 10 days out, I wanted to remind my body of what it is for. I'll run again in the morning and depending on how I feel, I might go long-ish. No more than 11 miles, maybe as few as 5.5. But longer than today, and hillier. Just a reminder.

I thought last week, when I was a bit gloomy about my prospects, that actually, whatever time I got would be a PB. So go, claim that motherfucker, then wipe 30 minutes off it in the next marathon.

It did the job, picked me up and restored my perspective.

In other news, I am lighter, look healthier and feel stronger than I have in years and years. So that's good.

I'm sure I had something in mind this morning, some piece of inspiration, a story, anything to share with you today, but now I'm home, my mind is blank. Oh, hang on. There's this. I was collecting donations in my local supermarket recently - a Co-Op, because Tesco wouldn't let me do it in their place. Why? Because some fucking brand management company handles it for them, and you have to book it six months in advance. Well, six months ago I didn't even know if I would be fit to run the marathon, much less that I had to deal with such bureaucratic shite. Twats. As a result, we now shop mainly with the Co-Op, as they are not such a massive bunch of cunts. Unlucky, Tesco!

Where was I? Oh yeah, collecting in Co-Op. Well, the three days I have spent in there collecting mostly seemed like an opportunity for little old ladies to walk up to me and say "You're not really built for running, are you?" The potential for hilarious/inappropriate replies was overwhelming, but I bit my tongue. A lot. And of course, had to agree with them because, well, they're right. Anyway, a lady came up to me and fished all of her change out of her purse and I noticed that her eyes were welling up. As she gave me the money she gave me a little smile and said, "Brilliant. Severn Hospice are the best." Put her money in the bucket, and walked away. People like that, remembering what she was remembering, are why I've just spend months working towards this. And why, on Sunday, I'll push myself to finish, to be the best I can be, and to help spread a little love to the world.

In other fundraising news, we've raised around £1700 so far, which is excellent. Depending on how my day goes (need to send some artwork off, do some transcription, get a haircut) I'll get that in the bank this afternoon. Very pleased with the figure, but there's another £700-800 to go to the target.

Enough of my burble. Things to do, donations to collect, stuff to get together. We leave on Friday. Who knows, if it's a good run I might even get a tattoo afterward to commemorate it! I think that would have to wait until after the Hereford Half Marathon a month later though, or it would get all sweaty. Ooooh, I could gte my race number done... 47544, Fact Fans.

Enough!

Key songs on this morning's run: WonderBoy, Tenacious D (Fly with me, fly!); Don't Stop Me Now, Queen. Yesterday's big hitter was Rabbit Run, Eminem.

2 comments:

  1. AMEN: "So go, claim that motherfucker, then wipe 30 minutes off it in the next marathon." kick it's ass!!!

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