Janathon day three: asleep

Last night I asked twitter if I should run in the dark in the morning, or run in the dark in the evening. Turns out that I needn’t have bothered asking anyone because at half five this morning, I was physically incapable of opening my eyes let alone getting out of bed, getting dressed and getting out for a run.

After work, I had a cracking headache and it was one of those “if it wasn’t for Janathon, I would be at home on the couch with a brew” moments. I split the difference between a token one mile and a respectable three miles, notching up an acceptable two at a pace that I was quite happy with (I am chosing to ignore that the first half was downhill). It wasn’t an exciting run by anyone’s standards.

When I was home, I asked twitter if it was acceptable to blog about knitting during Janathon (I have days where I am incapable of making decisions without the aid of twitter – you people have no idea how much power you wield over me, do not abuse it). The answer was a resounding YES. Part of the reason that I asked is that I’ve been mulling over the idea of having two separate blogs for running and knitting, but fear that I would end up with two blogs that I neglect equally. And while there is such a vast overlap in the venn diagram of knitters and runners, I think I can get away with the odd woolly post.

The question that I struggle with the most is “what are you knitting at the moment?”. It should be simple. I should answer “sock” (well it’s been true for the last two years). I was asked the question last week and my answer was something like “well, I’m merging two patterns, one for a little woolly Woody Allen and one for a little woolly Holly Golightly and am turning them into a little woolly roller skating hot pant wearing granny with her arm in plaster”.

Roller derby granny

Roller derby granny

I am very proud of her bun

I am very proud of her bun

I should have said sock.

The basic pattern is for a Knit New Yorker from Lauren O’Farrell’s (aka @deadlyknitshade) latest amazing book Stitch New York. It is just as wonderful as Stitch London and I was very pleased to find it under the Christmas tree!

It was a good haul under the tree

It was a good haul under the tree

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Awe inspiring

Following complaints that I haven’t written anything for a while (apparently it’s the only way that my immediate family know what I’ve been up to – hello mum), last night I started to post about how my running has been a bit on and off recently because I’ve had (to use the technical medical term) ‘generalised wonkiness‘.

But then I watched the Olympic athletics on the telly and heard Mo Farah say that he runs 120 miles a week (and he’s not even doing Juneathon), which quite frankly made me feel a bit mardy for whinging that I’ve had a bit of a cold. I turn 33 next week, so I presume that I’m not quite the generation that the Olympic legacy should be inspiring, and I certainly didn’t expect to get caught up in all of the coverage, but I have. I sit and marvel at the human form – the women are basically made up of the same component parts as me, we have the same basic arrangement of skin and bones and muscle groups, but they’re just assembled so, so differently. The effort and commitment that goes into being an athlete (of any sport or discipline) like that puts into context the grumbling about getting out after work or resisting a lovely biscuit (she says typing with fingers made sticky by jam tarts).

And I love the fact that even though there’s all sorts of super-technology going into race kit, they still have to have their race numbers safety pinned to their fronts like us mere mortals (but somehow I doubt that any of them have had an over the boobs/under the boobs pinning debate pre-race).

So how to get into the Olympic spirit even more? Well, with a visit to Bradley Wiggins’s actual golden postbox with Stan the knitted pigeon, that’s how.

One postbox, one pigeon

Stan proudly adorned with his medal that he won in Aunty Freda’s button box

;

PS. Since my last post, I’ve discovered that the actual collective noun for slugs is ‘a cornucopia’ – I wish to register a complaint about this.