OH HI GUYS, I’m back! Shelf Esteem, previously housed at Domestic Sluttery, is now on my own doorstep, which means I can write each review while doing helpful things like bothering Cat Brown and de-candle waxing the mantelpiece (that last is not a euphemism but something I actually did last weekend, but wouldn’t it be a great euphemism?). Continue reading
This is the most beautiful poem I’ve read in ages. I wish I had synaesthesia – I have the lower end of it I guess. I was explaining to Elizabeth how when writing I will almost taste a sentence as being green, or lilac, or a bit the wrong blue. “I have exactly the same thing!” she said. Of course she did, because we are Not Quite Sisters.
Originally posted on Partial Shade:
It’s nothing really, just
a way of treasuring
things, a feasting
on the bright
world that borders
on the pathological,
on the unseemly
maw of wet nerves,
the gape that swallows
every spine, tingles even
in the absence
of signal, lusts for
every fluke of noise
and particle alike
coming home drunk
or high and falling
asleep in that deep
where all our seemings cross
where the overspill
was the light under
overpasses, was the solace
and deep kissing
where the numbers
of your birthday
were—write this down—
and something like honey.
People who do the Marathon more than once often say they want to get a personal best, beat a certain time, or that they didn’t give it their all the first time round. I can, with absolute certainty, say that I couldn’t have given it anything more, I’m thrilled with my time, and I have no regrets.
On Sunday, I tweeted and texted my way around the London Marathon, and as God is my witness I’LL NEVER GO MARATHONING AGAIN.
Will I be running another one? God, NO. No. Right. Now that’s over, are we ready for an inspirational post about marathons? Then let’s begin. Continue reading
Completely forgot to post this earlier in the week – my mind has been all over the place with work events and eating like it’s going out of fashion. Post! And one to come before Sunday. Hopefully. Dear lord it’s so close!
I arrived at choir last week clutching a large glass of red – sorry Lent, we’re very much over now – and a friend said hello.
“I read your blog,” she said. “It was really funny! And the McDonald’s. But I can’t believe you actually admitted that in public.”
I said something blasé about my terrible diet at the moment, and eating everything, but it stuck with me. My eating has been appalling for the last few weeks. At the same time, I have entirely failed to get the hang of tapering, and my running has crashed to a halt of a Sunday long run, and that’s it. I saw some pictures from the Richmond half and I look even more like the tragic jelly shoved into a sock and violently beaten that I was at Marrowthon.
Reader: this is not good. Continue reading
I was having a bit of a lame day today in terms of nerves and food and so on – this has filled me with complete joy. Read this for why supporting Mind is a brilliant thing. Thank you so much for helping me to smash my target, and for being general legends. xxx
I’m in Women’s Running magazine! Thanks to @filmcharlotte for the heads up.
That picture has had some brilliant advert uses. When I was on holiday in February, it turned up on Facebook. It’s a bit weird seeing myself there – you don’t get asked, but then I haven’t asked when I’m using it – but it is a great photo and entirely sums up how I intend to feel on marathon day.
ANYWAY. Still tapering. Taper taper taper. I treated myself to a lovely massage on Wednesday to pull my back into some semblance of order. For various reasons, I only went out once this week, which was on Mothering Sunday from my parents’ house. 8am start = 7am start. I had to pull half the underwiring out of my sports bra – auspicious start! This also means that I now have no sports bras with all their underwiring in. Is it too late to get another one and wear that in? What if it rips my chest to bits, even with Vaseline? Continue reading
After last time’s horrendous 20 miles, I spent a week in recovery, hiding under my bed and staring blankly at a scratch on my chest of drawers. Or at least I may as well have. We’re now in tapering mode, and everyone in my Facebook group has gone mad.
Allegedly, tapering is what you do to relax and restore your muscles to gleaming health in time for Stupid Run Race Day. Really, what happens is everyone starts FREAKING THE FUCK OUT. Continue reading
I won an award!
No really – I won an award. Look!
Remember my Write Club holiday with Elizabeth to Canadamerica? Well unbeknownst to me Sam, my angelic editor at The Lady, submitted my feature to the Cruise Journalism Awards. This is the feature. It is probably not as serious as some cruise features actually are.
On my fundraising page, I say there’s a 75% chance of me crying. I’m raising that to 100%, simply because if I haven’t been asleep, eating, or running this week, I’ve been sobbing like Violet Elizabeth Bott confronted with an ingallant Outlaw. Continue reading
I ignored the Runkeeper schedule in favour of running either to or from work on Tuesday and Thursday. I loved it. Basically, excellent. The one flaw in my plan was on Thursday’s run home, when due to a clerical laundry error, I had to run dressed like this: