This morning’s run was mainly fuelled by sheer bloody mindedness. You might call it determination, but that would imply a degree of enthusiasm. Bed was located later than intended because of my (already documented) Internet problems and the fact that I hadn’t finished blogging the previous day’s run.

When the alarm went off, I could have sworn that it had just been 5 minutes since I went to sleep. My only evidence that it had been longer was that I dreamed that I had to try to save myself from a tornado. If you analysed that, you might think it was a subconscious fear of being swept away and losing control (5 days with no Internet!). However, I suspect that it was more likely to do with having gone to see the Wonderful Wizard of Oz at the Octagon, Bolton.

We snuck in with just a few days left of the run and I’m so glad we did. The Octagon’s Christmas shows are a master class in multitasking. Small casts are multiplied by clever use of accents, hats and incredibly talented musicianship. Last night included (but wasn’t limited to trumpet, piano, cello, clarinet, maracas, guitar (acoustic), guitar (electric), drums, violin and accordion, often being played by someone different than in the previous scene. There’s something very emotional about brass, so the tin man playing the trombone was enough to make me wobble, ages before the actual life affirming moral of the play was introduced (during which Dorothy did some awesome crying). Anyway, it turned out that the Wizard was from Wigan and with a click of her ruby Converse, Dorothy was returned home to Bolton.

We’re very tempted to book for the next production (Alfie), although I suspect there would be fewer Munchkins in that.

Anyway, this morning. I’ve been saving my intervals for a day when I was too late/tired/grumpy to do 3 mil. Today seemed as good a time as any and after playing “lucky dip kit” in the dark (being organised lasted a whole day) I plodded (keeping my feet to the beat).

Because of my Internet issues, my blog reading has stalled so apologies for not commenting as much as I’d like. And now I go to sleep, safe in the knowledge that I only get up at 7. Lovely!

Last night was my first adventure into power yoga. I’ll admit that for ages I’ve been secretly tempted to have a go at this class, but have always been a little intimidated by the concept. I managed to arrive on time, but too late to baggsy a place on the back row so had to settle for the next best option – skulking at the side of the hall. From here I peered at my classmates. The first thing that I noticed was that there were a lot more men in this class (5 in fact, which is 5 times more than on a Wednesday) and there was a lot more Lycra and performance fabric on show. I felt quite underdressed in my slightly saggy Tesco leggings. Everyone looked very alert, postures were erect and most telling of all, all socks were shed before the class started (as opposed to my usual class where most people stay snuggled in socks/cardigans/slankets for as long as possible) to ensure readiness for some power yoga action.

In the end we didn’t do anything I hadn’t done before, it was all just done a lot faster. This was fine with some sequences, but I find that if I lose my place I tend to flail helplessly. We did a variation on the sun salutation (during which I can guarantee that I will always lose my place) that included all the tricky twiddly bits, including bloody crocodile. Technically this is just known as ‘crocodile’, except in my head, and was introduced with the question “what happens if you bend your arms and straighten out your legs from here?” whist on hands and knees in cat pose. In my case the answer is “I fall on my face”, whereas the gentleman on the next mat snapped into a perfect crocodile. With a bit of practise, I managed a couple of crocodiles (if you ignore the fact that my method of getting out of them was to collapse with a WHUMP on the floor) but struggled to spring into one from a standing pose then lever myself from the floor to extend my arms into upward facing dog.

Basically, I enjoyed the intensity of the stretching and found myself being less apologetic about trying to push myself, but missed the ability to really think and focus on my positioning in each pose. I think power yoga was nice for a visit but I won’t be staying there.

This morning I rediscovered the snooze button. Because I had to run early today, it was twice as difficult as yesterday. I had learned though, my kit was dumped laid out in the bathroom so I could get dressed quicker, more successfully and not in the dark. My mood was not improved by the post office burglar alarm going off in the early hours of the morning. It turned out to be a powercut (rather than very keen raiders) and all the appliances clunked, whirled and bleeped themselves back on at 3:24. I say all, it turns out that all this has broken our internet. Despite the help of the twitter hive mind, I’ve not been able to solve it and resorted to phoning the help desk. It turns out that our next stage of solving it requires our installation disc. It also turns out that I can find every single installation disc for everything I have ever bought…except this one. They will post us another, but that could mean 3-5 working days without proper internet. Gah!

Anyway, this morning I clumped out another 3 miles, this time choosing an undulating route that provided a convenient excuse for my shoddy pace.

I will do this again tomorrow. Arse.