Since I got a bit more of my bounce back, I have been excited about Juneathon. I wasn’t planning to run everyday, but thought that the threat of “I don’t want to, but I will because it’s Juneathon” might kick start my slightly wobbly alleged-marathon training.
I was so excited, I also signed up for The Wildlife Trusts’ 30 Days Wild campaign. At 35, I was proper chuffed to get a WALLCHART (my phone actually autocaps that word because of my initial giddiness about it), some stickers and a badge.
And then the day before June came, my rediscovered bounce disappeared into the sunset like a moody space hopper. I’m not too sure what happened to it, let’s call it a combination of self-doubt, tiredness and maternal guilt. Whatever it was, it left me with a deep feeling of meh towards most things, including all of these 30 day challenges I was supposed to be doing.
The restorative post-work nap that I decided to sneak in turned into a deep two hour sleep and when I woke up, the wind was howling and the rain was pouring down. I haven’t run for a week because Mini-Ginge (who is basically a boy-shaped petridish of germs) had kindly shared his most recent cold with me and this has left me with a rattling cough that doesn’t seem to want to go anywhere. I might be making excuses, but it seemed like a daft idea to take my still not quite right chest out in the cold and wet.
I really couldn’t be bothered.
But I know that this lull won’t last a month, I want to shift it as soon as I can. And I knew that if I failed on day one, I would resent everyone else’s efforts and would feel twice as bad about myself.
So I unrolled my yoga mat on the kitchen floor and in the ambient lighting of the cooker hood, I did a bit of a warm up, some sun salutations (the first time that I have ever remembered the sequence properly) and a quick relaxation listening to the rain coming down.
Hopefully these will help bring some metaphorical and actual sunshine in the next few days.