Monthly Archives: August 2017

The only easy day is yesterday.

Monday; Back from my trip down to the sister, I found myself all exhausted, and so didn’t go for a run. Shame on me, yadayada, but I promised myself I’ll do better the next day.

Tuesday; Today was the day I had put aside to get a few errands done, and so at lunchtime I headed into town. When I was finished, I was waiting at the bus stop when a taxi pulled up. Out stepped a former colleague of mine, dressed beautifully. She was wearing what I call antler heels (where they’re so big as to make a statement). Off she went on her way, and off I went on mine. Which was on the back of a bus taking me back to work. I got through the rest of the day with a weird kind of sadness. Failure, to achieve, and failure to avoid; you imagine I’d be used to it by now.

Anyway; went for my run. I checked it out on google and in fact I was completing a mile and a half, not a mile. Hence the inability to do well. Got it done, in the same time as before. Then down to pick up beloved child, dinner, bath, bed.

Wednesday; Today was the Little man’s last day in the crèche. He’d been there since he was nine months old, and it was both a huge thing and a nothing thing. We’d got lots of presents made up, and I had special cards made for the staff as well. The other half was coming home early from work, and so we headed down together. We gave the staff lots of hugs, thank yous, and hard liquor. Then home we went, and it was only when I was there that I realised how tense I was about this. I place way too much emphasis on this sort of stuff; how well do we/I carry myself off? I can’t help it, but it does mean that I worry too much about how things look rather than how things are.

We delighted little man with a toy when we got home, the Lego Mystery Machine from Scooby Doo. And I know he was delighted because he woke me up at 3am to play with it.

Thursday – Now this was a long day, involving a lot of adulting throughout the day. Maybe to compensate for that moment on Tuesday, I wore a dress and heels, trying to look like a grown up. Fate didn’t come up with any rom-com hilarities for me along the way, no ripped tights or prat falls were experienced by me. Instead it was one long day, on my feet and running around. Meetings, crying students, no lunch, more crying students, colleagues with lots to do, and so on.  I left at 4pm as usual, with the sensation of having hugged a hurricane to myself all day.

And Thursday was the other half’s birthday. I came home with a birthday cake for him, along with some other treats. Little man helped me give him all the parcels we had wrapped for presents, then we ordered takeout for dinner. Afterwards, we had birthday cake.

Birthday cake

From a place that rhymes with Thatcheral Quakery.

It was awful; the buttercream icing tasted utterly bland, more like lard than cream.  I took a disbelieving bite, but really some part of the ingredients must have been missing from it. The beloved child didn’t have a second bite, and the other half was unimpressed on it. Nice one, guys. After my long long day, I was in bed by 9.30 pm, exhausted. My stomach was in a riot because of that damn cake, and no run was had by me. I’ll go to my grave with nothing but unfinished to-do lists on my gravestone.

Friday – Right. Swim! I walked towards the gym on Friday morning so utterly uninspired I wondered if it was a good idea. But I just treated that notion like the childish whine it was, and headed in. Got changed and realised I’d forgotten my shampoo. Don’t care, I told myself, I was still going swimming. I got into the Medium lane, and it had to be said, they seemed much slower than last time. So, feeling brave, I headed into the fast lane.

You don’t move into the fast lane unless you are sure you’re not going to be an inconvenience to someone else. I was only going to be swimming twenty minutes but I had to be sure I was going to stick to the pace. So off I went, pushing off from the wall.

And it was fantastic. It was a lovely, wonderful swim, an absolute dream and it saw me feel so much like my old self the years dripped away. I was swift, I was clean, the lines and everything else was perfect. I had walked towards the building feeling like I had nothing to contribute and no good would come of it, but it was fantastically pleasant and I was so happy. Happy! Finally! I met someone on the way into work who told me that I looked all happy and fit and everything was good. I got through work and the excitement of dinner, bath and bed with a good mood. Home, dinner, and finally the weekend.

Saturday; rest day.  I felt so good after the swim I know I could have gone running. But when I said it on Saturday morning, the little man looked so sad at the idea I couldn’t do that. Maybe Sunday?  We spent the day getting him ready for school; lunch boxes, juice bottles, new shoes, extra clothes, and all the rest.

Sunday:  No more excuses. Up, out, and away I went. Not one but two circuits this morning, of three miles in total. I feel wonderful and tired at the same time. I can confirm that there is no pain in my left hip, but there is now a pain in my right hip. Ah bless.

barbie flipped

But, it’s done. I’m pleased that I did it, that I added to my music running playlist, that I can rest tomorrow. I’m pleased that this rambling blog is done for this week, and that now I can go to bed. So on that note, good night sisters.

Image result for nell mccafferty good night sisters

Imagine a TV station that would have this kind of activist on nowadays. We were lucky.

 

Walking counts, right?

Monday – no exercise. No jog, no swim. The weekend had left me less than energetic, and the pouring rain certainly didn’t help. Bold Claire. Try again tomorrow.

 

Tuesday – right, no more procrastination. I made myself get into work as early as I could and get into my swimming gear. I’d been here before last week, when I didn’t really feel any joy at being in the water, and I frankly ‘parented’ myself into it again today. I got into the medium speed lane again, secured my goggles, and pushed off the edge.

And booom, the old push and sway was right back there. I pushed off that edge like a fish being freed again, and all the old skill I’d had was right back there with me; keep to the top of the water, make your movements smooth and clean, get into the rhythm and keep it going.

As I swam, I noticed the pool filling up. UCD is lucky enough to host the Women’s’ Rugby Tournament this year, and the campus is filled with teams from all over the world getting ready to compete. The gym and pool is no different, and a team were there this morning to get some recovery swims in. They’re strong, with all the various body types you might expect of a rugby team. I am by political leanings a feminist, but by culture I’m sexist; I’m still surprised when society puts women first without qualification. To have these women given resources, and priority, and emphasis, is a strange state for me. As I watched one figure happily swim past me, I realised I’d never seen a woman succeed for her own sake.

Men win in movies because they are the Hero. Women win in movies so they can get the guy.

Women are never heroes by themselves. They never succeed unless they succeed just-so-far and no farther. Women are not the default, they’re the reward, and that is an area I should grow a bit in.

Anyways. I got out of the pool and got ready. I’m still too slow on that one, I find.

 

Wednesday – no work, rest day, alalallalalllaa

 

Thursday; Run! Run fast! Home, shoes on, out the door! I pushed myself very hard and managed to… maintain the same speed. I would have hoped I could cut more time off it, but I didn’t. Standing at my front door, trying to breathe, I told myself it didn’t matter. What was I going to do, give up? No, I was not. Maintain, fall back, get better; it doesn’t matter, just keep going.

 

Friday – Rest day

 

Saturday & Sunday – See, I was actually full of good intentions on Thursday? And I did indeed manage to get a lot done, both for work and for exercise? But on Saturday I headed down to the sister’s for the weekend. They have a lovely home down there, and kids that still fake liking the mad aunt, and a dog so my beloved angel adores it too, and all of it. So by 11am off we went in the car to enjoy the weekend. The older I get the more I love getting out of Dublin, and I’m never down enough in Kilkenny for my liking, I miss the place very much. So it was fantastic, frankly, to recognise the hills in the distance as we went on down the country. The weekend was very much waterlogged. We had a long walk on Sunday morning just before there was a break in the rain, out in the woods called The Islands, and that took a good hour, so I am calling that exercise.

 

3 folks walking

The woman in the middle is one of the best people in the world. In case you were wondering. 

We even found a car; a passat had been pushed off the road, all the windows smashed. The more I looked at it the more I was convinced it had just been put there; the weeds were wilted, the upholstery was dry, and the thread marks weren’t pushed down. We rang the guards and told them about it, but something about it troubled me; They would have had to drive in the pitch dark and then walk back the same way. That’s a lot of effort for just a joyride.

 

Broken car

Shockin’.

It started to rain. We got just wet enough so that we were grateful to be back at our cars and get cosy. The rest of the day was a deluge, and I spent it reading and looking out of the window, tututing and going back to my book.  Hard life.

Purple woodlands

Like, really hard.

While I was down there, I had another idea for a novel;  a beginners cooking class focusing on Desserts. You could see each of the people taking part in the class, and learn about them as the cooking class goes on. The book should include the actual recipes as well, so that a person buying the book would have the chance to learn to cook it too. Yes, it is a bit Maeve Binchy, but frankly there’s nothing wrong with that. The title came to me this morning as I was putting on my mascara; “Sweet Things For Beginners.” And a cover in pink. Hmm, I like that.

But no exercise make Claire lose the point of the blog. I want to go for a quick jog today, and will update this blog this weekend. Don’t lose hope! I will be back!

The Fun that is week three.

Saturday:

So. After the fun that was last week, I decided to keep going, and on Saturday morning early headed out to do my run. I wasn’t too worried about the time, I just kept going until I  had a couple of miles down. Then it was back home.

“Mummy!” my little angel greeted me. “You’re all pink!”

No I did not take a picture, go look at a daisy.

Ah bless. Yes, pale skin and red hair and flushed face means Mum look all pretty. I had my shower and cleaned up, ate breakfast, tidied up. Then it was out of the house for a bit. The other half needed to get some parcels from the post office, so I headed down in the car. Walking away from the parked car I noticed something.

I.

Was.

Limping.

Ow. Ow ow ow. 

My left hip felt like someone had wretched it out and hurriedly put it back in again. I limped into the post office, got the parcels, then back to the car. It felt like I needed to put myself in some weird position to get the ache out of my limbs, but I had no idea how.

Then, that afternoon, it was time to take the car to the NCT place in Deansgrange. The kid was happy (at first) to watch them have a look at it, but became convinced that they were stealing it. Coping with that and growing dehydration wasn’t good. Back home, I headed down to the local shop to get dinner, then ate and then bath for kiddo, followed by bed for me, honestly glad there was no scheduled exercise for a few days.

Sunday: get away from me, rest day.

Monday: Was lucky enough to see the in-laws, and to hang out with my very cool sister-in-law and brother-in-law. It was supposed to be a ‘simple tapas thingie’, but my mother-in-law managed to present the most sophisticated buffet out of no-where. We sat in the garden and relaxed, not really caring that the rain was coming down. I drove us all home, glad of the few days off work.

Tuesday: Right! Home from work, time to get twenty minutes in. I managed to cut two minutes off the time, so hurrah for me. It is getting easier, but one thing about getting older is that you notice your improvement speed is slower, as is your recovery time. Still. I feel much better these days, so much so that I’ll be able to pose laughing over a bowl of salad any minute now.

Image result for woman salad

Oh asparagus, you just get me…

 

Wednesday: Rest day, ha ha!

 

Thursday:

Honestly not sure if I can find the time today. Lots of lovely meetings.

 

Friday:

I went swimming.

And it was a lot better than before; the rhythm was much more present, and I got it done with not a bit of bother. Still taking far too long to get ready afterwards, however.

I was supposed to go away this weekend, but had to change them, which means mentally I have no plans to go running today, Sunday. But needs must. Will see how we get on.

 

The plan for next week is:

Monday – Rest day

Tuesday – run after work

Wednesday – Rest day

Thursday – Swim at lunch

Friday – Rest day

Sunday – Run

So now you know too and should feel duty bound, dear reader, to remind me if I fail. Anyways, keep her lit!

Right. Max the envelope, and so forth

New Readers start here.

So, the saga continues. I know I said that this was going to start on Tuesday, but Sunday rolled around and I decided that there really was no point in waiting. So on went the shoes, and the tracksuit, and off I went.

See, that happened at about 5pm. And if you go to Met.ie, and look up the daily data for Dublin Airport at that time, you’ll see that 1mm of rain fell at that time.

All at once.

On my head.

About half way through the first mile I realised this was not going to level off. I kept going, because I had to; there was no way I was giving up on the first mile of the first run. But ye gods! Everything was soaking wet; the hair, the leggings, all of it. I was honestly worried the phone was going to go with all that water.  I saw a kid out there in shorts and a jacket and wondered where the hell were his parents…

I will say that the number of joggers-nods increased. This is a phenomenon whereby joggers/runners show their mutual respect by giving a solemn nod to each other as they pass. No words, just a nod, implying that we are all in a special club, and everyone else is just running because they’re late somewhere. I got several nods on Sunday, even from the wiry ‘I haven’t stopped running since Gay Byrne was on the Late Late show’ types, and I felt very special. I made it home and had the most amazing shower ever. That evening I looked out and saw the same kid, still wondering around the estate. What the hell was going on?

 

Monday – Rest day. Ambrosia from the Gods day.

 

Tuesday– Swimming day. Packed up my dust-covered (not kidding) swim suit and headed over to the pool at work. I swam for twenty minutes, with no headaches, dizziness or trouble. I was as slow as a mule, which, if you picture one in a pool is pretty much what we have here.

Weeeeeee!

Swim, in short, was fine. Getting myself ready to be productive at my desk took me forever (shower, dress, hair, makeup, and go). I need one of these, me thinks.

 

Wednesday; felt that pleasant ache in my muscles. All good.

 

Thursday; Right, when to go for a run? Couldn’t do it during lunch hour, so instead pulled on the runners before I went to pick up the child. And oh my God the difference. Running after a day’s work, even desk work, is much much harder on the body and soul. Firstly, lots of lovely people about, to comment and smile that smile, the smile that is both smug and amused at the same time. Bless ‘em in their ear.

Secondly, it is harder. I was more tired, and much slower than I had any right to be. I should have improved since last Sunday, but instead was much worse. I got into bed like a zombie, and honestly fell asleep as fast as I sank into the mattress.

 

Friday: (Today) Rest day. Three sessions down, and the schedule getting closer to figured out. The great thing about fitness is that it only needs brute endurance. If you keep going, you cannot but get better.

Good luck sisters.

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