This is LOVELY – fabulous nail art for a girl in the Facebook running group. I’m so getting something like this for London.
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
Team Empire! Aka, The Running Mag *ahthangyor*
On Sunday, under the most beautifully Spring-like baby blue skies I’ve seen without dreaming them, me and a team from Empire magazine ran the Marrowthon 10k for Anthony Nolan, the blood cancer and bone marrow registry charity. £1380 raised so far, HOLLER!
I left Empire in 2006, but help out* at the Awards, and it doesn’t take much for me to do a race with Helen and Olly “Is there a medal?” Richards. I named our team: the frankly horrifying The Running Mag. I am so sorry. (I am not at all sorry).
*drink their booze
Teeth of an angel c 1987. They never saw it coming.
When I was 10, I was racing my brother down a hill on our bikes. I went into his back wheel and landed on my face. Don’t say the jokes – I heard the lot at school. I’ve had ongoing dental work since then, and the end it in sight – in February, I will have an implant and a new crown that should put an end to my teeth problems for ages.
Because, it turns out that my dentist 10 years ago didn’t notice a fracture in one of my teeth. That fracture meant that my bones started rejecting the tooth and CANNIBALISING it. WTF, horror film life! Anyway, since November, I have had a bit of plastic replacing my two front teeth covering up a lot of dental wizardry, leading up to the end of February when I should finally have two completely perfect, non-cannibalised horror film teeth. Mid-dentist, I took a picture of me with only half a front tooth when two should be – full hag.
Week 5 was a bit of a fizzling non-starter because I had a dentist visit on the Tuesday, and assorted meetings and cool events during the week meant that getting out didn’t happen. Still – focusing on the teeth. The good teeth. Bring on the teeth. Continue reading
The anxiety of last week melted away, as it usually does, which is a huge relief. Unfortunately, I’m then crushed by the ghastly realisation that there are weeks more of this to go. I’m also colossally tired, pretty much all the time, and when I’m tired, I eat sugar and my brain falls apart – apologies in advance for the terrible writing in this update, but did I mention I feel like a pitiful small animal gif?
Nothing to see here, everything is completely normal
Signing up to run a six-point-something km race dressed in a Santa suit seemed like a brilliant idea in October.
It was DEFINITELY a brilliant idea when we arrived in Battersea Park! You have no idea of the total joy that comes from wandering into a park feeling a bit cold and “it’s 9am on a Saturday WTF” to be greeted by an ocean of identically-dressed runners. Continue reading
Ordinarily I subscribe to the Greta Garbo school of running, but the last three weeks have been very weird and sociable. Not the running club – for an assortment of reasons (“I’ve got a screening” “It’s a bit cold” “I’ll go when I’ve got better” “There’s a – a thing, somewhere”) I never did go back and now choir’s started up again so my Tuesdays are done for.
A couple of weeks ago my friend Sara, of Life Death Top Tips fame, asked if I wanted to go on a long run as she’d got massively bored of trolling round the streets of Streatham on her own. We roped in another Domestic Sluttery friend, Frances, and headed off in the direction of Vauxhall and Chelsea. As is evident, I have yet to master taking a picture while running without getting your fingers all over it.