Woke up feeling refreshed and alive. A beautiful spring morning. The tired and negative gloom of the last few days has lifted. The clocks are going forward tonight. It’s British Summer Time. The sky is blue and this weekend I am zoned into training and running fuck loads of miles. Bring it on.
First I slapped in a couple of meetings, followed by tea with a wise old owl who offered me some great advice. Focus. Pick something you love and work hard at it. Make a success of it.
Great advice. Trouble is. What the fuck do I want to do? I feel like a teenager. I dabble in bit of comedy club, bit personal training, bit of helping others, bit of charity, bit of marketing professional. Not really sure what I want to do when I grow up. Trouble is I’m 40 this year. The clock is ticking. Oh god I sound like a girl. Maybe the fact my Mum pretended I was a girl for the first 2 days of my life is coming back to haunt me!!
I’m so indecisive at the best of times. Yoga, run, gym, meeting? Beach, activity, spiritual or traveling holiday? Hair back or down? Flip flops or boots? The list of crucial decisions is endless. So, to pick something I really want to do at the moment and follow it through is proving somewhat tricky. I’m praying hard for the guidance and focus but I’m yet to see the answer. I know that Stationary isn’t the answer though.
Then after fighting through the Chelsea traffic, it was back and out for a run. I was indecisive whether to do long run today or tomorrow. I came up with all kinds of plausible reasons why I should delay long run until tomorrow. All of them rational and understandable. But strip them all the way, get to the heart of it really and the truth is…..couldn’t be arsed! There said it. Why do something today that you can put off until tomorrow. Not exactly the new me is it?
Anyway, sod that. It was a beautiful day so off I popped along the river from Barnes to Richmond (6 miles) It was totally packed as the weather was so nice, I ran into Richmond Park, through the park and back to Barnes. Total of 10 miles. Felt good and strong though was flagging a little at the end and was pleased I wasn’t trying to add another 10 miles on. God I hate the long ones!!
I was pleased with my effort though and ended up getting a drink in Barnes and walking around the Farmers Market. It struck me I hadn’t seen more of a middle class place in ages. My god. Even the ducks in the pond quack quietly.
Sums it up they sell Scotch Quails Eggs for £4.50 a pop in the farmers Market. My god. The Market stalls are made of corduroy and the local chippie serves cod and chips in the Daily Mail. A chip buttie is served in Focaccia and there are strict dress codes in the pubs that Men are only allowed entry if they pull their collars up, drape a casual jumper over their shoulders and wear deck shoes.
Leopard Print leggings are banned sadly. It is like living in a pull out section of The Daily Telegraph. I bet they get Jeremy Clarkson to turn on the Christmas Lights.
Still, i cannot escape i am indeed middle class. Maybe my angst and hatred comes from my lack of acceptance of this. I even own a body warmer for Christs Sake. I have over 10 v-neck jumpers and I've even taken to wearing blazer and jeans. Kill me now.
Evening was chilled and other than the dreadful disappointment of Liverpool FC losing at home to Wigan, i went to sleep early and kipped like a little trooper. I'm going to need it. It's the dreaded 20 miler tomorrow!
PS - Made the terrible error of ringing my 2 best mates who have 2 and 3 young kids respectively. It sounded like ringing up Kate Adey in the middle of war torn Somalia. They both said to me, 'you show your lack of having children experience there. Never ever ring between 4-8pm. Bath and feeding time renders the world outside off limits.' Fair enough. I learnt my lesson.
xx
I think you should write a book, your a very articulate, passionate and funny writer that's what I think you should do :o) the lords will see you in a few Sundays time xx
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