Category: The Athons

Juneathon Day 3 – Promise fulfilled

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I didn’t think I’d have chance to post after yoga, hence my short pre-yoga post earlier. Events have conspired to mean that (a) I have possession of the computer and (b) I am awake, so I can do a proper post. Aren’t you lucky?

I’ve been going to yoga classes since January and really have enjoyed them. It’s helped combat some of my work stress, I feel more balanced (in more of an actual less clumsy sense than a spiritual way) and at times I can convince myself that I’m longer and leaner than I am (except when doing anything a bit plough-ish and then I get a faceful of flabby squishiness, which spoils the illusion somewhat. It’s a bit like being suffocated by bread dough). It’s very much a mixed ability class and I don’t do anything half as scary as Ashtanga yoga like Running From 30, which would kill me without a doubt.

Although I had mixed feelings about not running this morning, I’m glad that I did (or didn’t…). It dawned on me a bit back that if I try to run everyday, I’ll have an initial burst of enthusiasm and then get bored and give up. There’s no way that I’d keep up with the  press-up and sit-up challenge (as created by Hauling My Carcass), so after a bit of thought I’m trying to use my non-running days to either
(a) do a lovely long walk somewhere nice with the husband
(b) do something energetic that I’ve not done for ages but used to enjoy or
(c) try something completely new.

So far the list includes swimming, squash, badminton, golf, tai chi, aqua aerobics, crown green bowling (which is more just an excuse to justify a day in the pub), ladies racketball and some form of aerobics class (because I’ve never done one cos they seem too scary). This is how I’ve ended up signing up for a body combat/boxercise/ultimate fighting type combo class after work tomorrow. Working for a health conscious employer who likes us to practise what we preach (and not go off sick), our trust is running a bit of a get fit for summer thing and is hosting various 8 week classes. High on the excitement of Juneathon, I found myself sending a tentative enquiring email, which was soon followed by one saying “can I come on Thursday please?”. I never do anything that impulsive. Damn Juneathon.

http://haulingmycarcass.blogspot.com/

Juneathon day 2 – hark at my efficiency

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Due to a previously unseen level of social life today (well I’m going out for my tea) and the fact that I hijacked the computer last night, I thought I’d write up early today.

Another run in the sunshine today, 3.25 miles (ish – I’ve nothing as fancy as a garmin, but I’m not quite using an A-Z and a piece of string). Felt like I was going a bit slow (for me – compared to anyone else I was going backwards) but it levelled out and I averaged out at a pace of about 10min 30sec/mile.

What I have learned today is that organisation is the key to success at this time in the morning. Yesterday I forgot to make my dinner; today I’ve found that putting the front door key down on a patterned cushion potentially adds 5 minutes and half a dozen swear words to the day.

And before I forget – a huge thank you to JogBlog for adding me to the roll call, JoggerBlogger for being king of the Juneathon, and everyone else who’s doing it and keeping me both motivated and entertained!

Juneathon Day One

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juneathoniii.jpg

And so it begins…

Keeping up the early morning theme, I did 2.6 miles at 6.15 this morning. Slightly disappointed because I thought it would be longer, but it was a gorgeous run, it was Monday morning and I had to take on my nemesis, the big hill. The problem with the big hill (apart from being big) is that it limits my options for running in and out of the village – basically a case of turn left at the front door and inevitably the big hill will loom. Now and again though  I think it does me good to take it on.

So off I went. Left at the front door, right at the end of the road, down another big hill (apparently a ‘Brow’) and down to the lake. The lake is lovely at any time of the day, but I’ve discovered today that it’s beautiful first thing, so much so that I turned off The Waifs and listened to the birds and the sound of peacefulness. Also, turning off the tunes meant that I could be alert and watchful for danger. I think I can safely assume that most of the village’s dodgier characters are still in bed this early in the morning, but there’s something about running away from the main road that feels a bit strange. As it was, I only encountered a dog walker and he seemed more surprised by me that I did by him.

After the lake came the big hill. The first bit is ok (i.e. flat) but as you round the corner, the hill reveals itself like a pantomime baddy, I swear you can hear it cackle. After the big hill, it’s the home strait and time to collapse in a big sweaty heap.

Even though I plodded very slowly (I blame the moustache twirling hill), there’s no way I would have done it this afternoon in the blazing sun, so it’s not that bad.

One down, twenty-nine to go.