One Week.

This is what graces the homepage of this site:

And while I am kind of stressing enough about the fact that I actually have to run a marathon, I have now also come down with a cold (occupational hazard – kids = germs).  Aberdeen schools have a long weekend at the end of September, so I should have been enjoying 4 days off with my boyfriend doing fun things, enjoying myself, and trying to resist the urge to do impromptu long runs to counteract all the food I’m eating.  Instead, I’ve spent most of my time this weekend here:

Whilst my boyfriend has come up with one or two fun things we can still do in this particular location, it isn’t quite the hill-climbing, mountain biking, sunshine-filled, non-running stuff we had hoped we would be doing.  And yes, I’m talking about playing minesweeper on my phone and watching clips like Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s recent Magic Mike spoof on SNL, obviously.  To make matters worse, it’s Ian’s birthday tomorrow, and it is going to involve me moaning about being ill.

I guess if I’m hunting for the silver lining in all this, I’m getting plenty of rest, which is something I know I wouldn’t be getting if I was 100% right now.  But hopefully I can have a little jog and a weights class tomorrow, if I’m feeling any improvement, just to stop myself from tearing up the carpet in my flat out of frustration.  And also to counteract whatever Ian’s birthday eatery of choice does to me.

I’ll give you three guesses to decide how I’m feeling today:

Clue: it’s not ‘cheerful’ or ‘enthusiastic’.

How to avoid Marathon Training: Pull a neck muscle.

It isn’t uncommon to incur an injury when training for a marathon, that much I know.  Usually it’s related to your legs, you know, because they’re kind of used a bit during running.  Now anyone that knows me will know that I’m not monogamous when it comes to physical activity.  I totally dig running, but I’m also a bit of a gym whore, and regularly go to weights/spin/yoga/aerobics classes.  Most runners call this ‘cross-training’ and die-hard runners seem to hate it, because it isn’t running.  I like a bit of variety in my sweating.

It was during one of these cross-training sessions on Friday that I threw an over-enthusiastic punch, twisting my upper body with mad style, but also pulling a muscle in my neck.  I didn’t notice at the time, but when after the class in the changing room I noticed my neck felt a bit stiff when I was putting my rucksack on, and by the time I got home about an hour later, it was pretty sore and swollen, and it hurt to look up, down, and to the side, so after consulting Dr. Google and ruling out various horrific ailments, figured I had a neck strain.  Aware that Tough Mudder was just over a week away, I tried to keep my head as still as possible, and hoped I’d feel better Saturday morning.

I did not.  If anything, I felt worse.  I’m not normally a pill-popping Penelope (I don’t know either), but I was in so much pain that I cracked out the ibuprofen.  Drugs, my friends, are amazing.  If it weren’t for my weirdness with chucking chemicals into my body, I’d take drugs frequently, because I felt great.  For about 2 hours.  Then the pain crept in again, but at lest I had some distraction.  It was my friend Grant’s birthday night out, and he had come over with his brother in the early afternoon.

In between laughing at my predicament, we played board games, baked cake, ate some take-away Nando’s and generally just hung out.  This was easy enough to do because I could maintain my weird, upright, looking-straight-ahead position in comfort.  But then the time came to venture beer-ward.  I managed a shower, then, with some discomfort, managed to get into an appropriate drinking outfit and slap on some make-up.  Unfortunately the pain was creeping back, so I opted not to drink in case I felt the need to chow down on more ibuprofen (I’m aware some of you are A-OK with over the counter drugs and a few beers, but I’ve just got a no-mixing policy, mainly due to my own paranoia that I’ll react in a strange way and go blind, which would suck).

I was really looking forward to beers on Saturday, so I was a bit pissed off at my mean right hook, but at least I scrubbed up well:

So here we are on Monday afternoon.  I’ve missed a mid-distance and a long run over the weekend, and I suspect it will be at least another couple of days before I’m back pounding the pavement.  I have better range of movement, and I had a sports massage scheduled for tonight anyway, so hopefully I’ll be feeling better tomorrow.  As long as I’m able to take part in Tough Mudder, I’ll be able to refrain from an all-CAPS, rage-induced post.  Until then, back to discovering daytime TV.

[insert witty title here]

Let me introduce you to two facts:

  1. My boyfriend has had a cold for the past week.
  2. I now have a cold.

Coincidence?  I think not.  I am, to put it simply, not amused.  Especially since I have the Glenlivet 10k on Sunday.  I am not anticipating any record breaking times for this, considering I am not an asthmatic, but I am wheezing like one whenever I exert myself (rise from the sofa to go for a piss, lift arm to push a button on the remote, scratch leg).

My boyfriend seems to know I am not amused.  I’m amazed he picked up on my subtle vibes (me shouting things like “Stop touching me you massive infection!” and repeating things like “I am really pissed off that you have given me your disease”).  Just to fill you guys in, he, being the caring boyfriend he is, laughed and faux coughed in my direction.  So how did I know he understood my mood?

Ignore sketchy search terms

That’s how.