Just a phase I'm going through

Last weekend I decided it was pathetic that I couldn’t run five kilometres.

I don’t want to compete and I don’t want to be a good runner, but I don’t want to be pathetic.

I have tried running before, and not in a half-hearted way either.  It didn’t work and I became disillusioned, fed up, and full of pathos.

This time I’m older, so it’ll be harder, but I’ll have technology on my side.  I don’t have any bionic limbs or fabulous compression clothing to improve circulation but I do have an app.  It’s an app that is similar to many that have taken lazy lumps from “Couch to 5K”.

I’m less than a week in, so how was it?

Well my first outing was with my children and I enjoyed their company but my running looked like the running of someone twice my age.  There was post run aching too, but the whole thing was manageable.

My second outing was an inning.  I ran and walked around the house unwilling to be seen in public.  This was tolerable and the running was less lame.

My third outing followed the same route as the first and my running was more effective because I needed to add a loop to be able to schedule the interspersed walking and running perfectly timing my return to base at the end of the 30 minutes.  It was a warm morning and I was horribly hot and sweaty when I got back home.  It was all doable though.

My concern is that week two doubles the length go the running bits.  I think that sounds like a bit too much for me and I might repeat week one.  I’m not training for any particular event so I might as well work at a comfortable pace rather than risk trying too much too soon and failing.

Do I feel better?  Not physically better but I do feel virtuous.

Choreography

There are times when my life is choreographed to the minutes; things happen one after the other making the best use of my time.

This morning I’d taken some ingredients out of the freezer ready to cook a quick meal this evening.

The minute I got in from work I started cooking and made a chicken pie and bunged it in the oven.  My hints about making mummy a cup of tea fell on deaf ears.

I checked where Hannah was and realised I could just collect her from the station while the pie was in the oven.  I set the timer on the oven so that it would turn off preventing the pie from burning.  After collecting Hannah and her friend, dropping her friend off and getting home I served up and we ate.  No cup of tea was forthcoming here either.

I needed Dave to get home because I wanted his car to go to Astrid’s house.  I was collecting a wardrobe and needed the estate.  Dave knew this but wasn’t home at the time I would normally expect.  I popped the kettle on because nobody else was going to make me a cup of tea.  I also put a bread mix in the bread maker. 

And then Dave turned up and he was home at a time which meant I would be late getting to Astrid.  

He drank my untouched tea while I got in the car with Ethan to collect the wardrobe.  Dave lamely offered help and I resisted the urge to say “Maybe try to be a bit more considerate of other people’s commitments.”  I wasn’t late by much but I don’t like letting people down and I try to keep promises.

My time is precious. I don’t appreciate being messed around.  

Sometimes

I'm typing this as a form of therapy. Nobody's recommended I do this, I'm just trying out in the hopes that it works.

I am at home today and have just been overwhelmed with sadness and I don't know why.

It reminds me of the feelings I had when I had post natal depression and that scares me. I don't want to go anywhere near that place again.

I've tried to analyse why I'm feeling this way because it's actually quite unusual for me. I am, despite appearances to the contrary, an optimist.

I've been baking this morning which usually makes me happy, but not today.

I'm just so very sad today. I want to call mum for a chat but I can't, she's not here.

So for all of you who hate those people who smile for no reason, rest assured they can have their bad days.

I don't know what's up. But this isn't me.