Week Four 13.3.17
Steps
3834 km 3.08 cal. 291 time 29m
A brisk five-minute walk, then eight minutes of running,
five minutes of walking and eight minutes of running.
Week five! Over half
way through. I like that. I like it so much I mess up my timings and
only do 29 minutes instead of 31. Never
mind. Weds will be more exciting for
it.
On my own today, so sleep in. Naughty. Get up to see
Victoria Derbyshire ensconced in a semi circle of people who believe (or not)
that dogs can sniff out cancer. Must be
a trend – only the other day, there was a woman who could do the same with
Parkinson’s. Ian Duncan Smith did a
good job of undermining the voice of science and good sense by quite reasonably
suggesting that if it works, it might be worth a try until something more,
well, scientific comes along. Nothing
is, apparently, that simple. The NHS
can’t keep dogs – what about feeding them, walking them? I feel my brain glazing over. I say, stop arguing about it and let those
who want to be diagnosed by a savvy four-legged friend at least have a try.
Homes under the Hammer is on the other side. Dare I?
I feel myself being dragged under by the 80s current. Presenters who echo the fashions and music
of a bygone age, entrap me.
I finish my toast.
Drink my tea. Stare at the
screen goldfish-like.
Eventually, when I’ve seen how much profit everyone has
made, I curse my luck and get into my
leggings. Blue sky and a surly
breeze. Perfect washing day for sheets
and towels. Damn!
The sheets blow dry and I run. Marianne Faithfull is in full flow with some of the most
colourful language I’ve heard set to music.
I imagine that some of the (quite ball-shrivelling) accusations are
aimed at Mick Jagger, not that he will give a hoot. I find that I like the narratives more than I thought I
would. Four letter, mainly anatomical
words abound, along with ever more cutting recriminations and a slightly
contradictory world view. Go Marianne!
Is it smoking that gives her voice such gravel?
I run. Almost
without noticing. I have absolutely no
shortness of breath, although my legs wouldn’t cope for long with a faster
sprint. I might try next time.
My garden is coming along.
I edged some of it yesterday but was awake all last night, itching. It’s either cancer of the kidney or an
allergic reaction to some of the weeds I strangled.
Fingers crossed.
There are three dogs in the impasse.
Times’s up.
Saunter. Smug expression. Lunchtime – does it count as lunchtime if
I’ve just had breakfast?
I believe it might.
A mercredi?
Week Four 15.3.17
Steps
4089 km 3.32 cal. 314 time 31m
Blue skies and garden coming to life. Feeling on top of the world. No time to write blog. Too much to do.
Week Four 18.3.17
Steps
4729 km 3.88 cal. 369 time 34m
Missed Friday so just did my run today (Saturday). I tuned in to the music of Queen and hoped
it wouldn’t go on forever. When the
rhythm took me I upped the energy level and was surprised how fast I could
go. Pushed myself. Actually got out of breath today. Time was up, but Brian Ferry started singing
More than This and I wasn’t going to stop him.
Took me back to the idealism of my youth and made me want to write a
book. I’d call it The Bits that Matter. In the meantime, I have to practically
re-write my second Alice Candy mystery.
I’m up for the challenge, though.
My advice: Get running – there’s nothing like it for boosting those
brain cells.
My posts have shrunk.
If anyone is reading them and notices, apologies. I will probably get back to normal next
week. Probably But as long as I’m doing the running, that’s
the main thing, isn’t it?
A la semaine prochaine
x
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