Another rather...erm...interesting occurrence is my entry to the Birmingham Half Marathon. It's 10 years this year since losing my wonderful mum and I had the brainwave (malfunction) of entering the half marathon to raise a ridiculous amount of money and to challenge myself to achieve something amazing after something so heartbreaking as losing mum. Not to mention the legs like a baby giraffe I will surely be the proud owner of by October.
So far training is going surprisingly well. Saturday I managed a 5 mile trot around the local park. It wasn't easy, certainly not but it wasn't impossible which I personally found extremely encouraging, until that is, I thought that in just 49 days I will be doing that twice with another 3 miles added for good luck. Ohhhhhhh why oh why oh why have I volunteered for this craziness? Why have I decided to put my body, my poor, battered, lazy body through this turmoil??? Why cant I simply send a cheque? Surely Macmillan don't care if I do the run, they only care about the cash, I'll just send a cheque... Or a coffee morning, I could go to a coffee morning, yes eating cakes, drinking coffee, having a chat THAT'S much more my scene... oh yes, I could to 13 miles of cake and coffee...
No, no I've made a commitment, the entry is paid for, the trainers are laced, the sponsorship requests are being sent out and as I've roped my sister and two lifelong buddies into the whole charade I guess its pavement pounding for this Mo Farrah wanna be!
Next run tomorrow... A&E on standby!!!
