24 July 2013 - Words to the wise

To the horrid little chav in his souped up golf, and ridiculously loud exhaust.

Yelling : 'Get your tits out you fat cow' at me, when I'm running is actually highly unlikely to inspire me to get said tits out.


In fact, taking into account that I have had three kids and so my tits hang nearly to my knees, I fail to see why you would want me to get them out.


I can only conclude, therefore, that you don't actually want me to get my tits out, that you in fact think you are insanely hilarious showing off in front of the little barbie dolls giggling in the back of your car.


What is actually likely to happen is that one of your silly little girlfriend's gives you crabs and your tiny dick falls off (hopefully).

Just saying.

Day 1 thousand - Calamity Rhydd

Well, THAT'S never before.

I went out for my usual 8 mile run on Saturday morning and ended up coughing up blood at the side of the cycle path.

And things had been going so well.

Two weeks ago I remembered that my officially licenced, rare promotional Fantastic Four watch has a stopwatch on it.

 Up until then I'd been monitoring my running times by checking the time on the clock in the
kitchen when I left and then checking it on my phone when I'd reached my destination. Hardly an ideal arrangement I know, rendered even more void once I'd realised that there is a 5 minute disparity between each clock. 

So anyway, now I had a stopwatch and could accurately gauge my progress.

Two weeks ago I ran my 8 miles in 59 minutes. Last week I did it in 55.

Wow! I was getting somewhere! 

And what's more, last week I was beginning to feel like a machine again when I was running. Just like I did during my marathon days. Where I'd settle into a good, solid pace and feel like
I could keep it up all day. I'd zone out and the pain would disappear and nothing could get in my way.

                                             Awesome.

And then, this week........
.
Even though I left the house at 07:30 it was hot, but I was doing it. I was keeping up a good pace and I was watching the clock and I was set to knock a couple of minutes off last weeks time. 

Then, about half way along my route on the cycle path, something flew down the back of my
throat, causing me to gag.

 I wretched up phlegm and thought that I'd gotten rid of it, whatever it was. So I started running again. A minute or two later I gagged again and coughed up more phlegm. 

Jesus, it hurt.

I had a drink and tried to carry on but something was still causing me to gag. This time I was coughing up blood. Not just phlegm with some blood in it, but actual blood.

                                                                      MY BLOOD!

What the hell had flown into my gob? And what's more what the hell had it done when it was in there?

                                                                  Was it a wasp? 

Heavy Metal Band W.A.S.P.

                                                          No, not that kind. This kind...

actual wasp

                                                            Had it stung me?

                                                      HAD IT LAID EGGS??? 

Was I going to go home later that day and have something explode out my chest whilst having my tea like John Hurt in Alien?

Alien chest burst

By this time my legs had turned to jelly.

                                                                  This was worrying

 I had to get home, and the quickest way to do that was by getting to town to catch the bus. Which was what I was doing anyway. Only now I couldn't run. So I carried on walking

. I coughed up blood maybe three or four more times.

 Once I realised that maybe I was finished up chucking I tentatively tried running again. It was slow and painful but at least I was running.

 Eventually, I reach Wind Street without any more unpleasantness and checked my time. I had done it in 1 hour and 1 minute, which wasn't too bad at all, considering.

Anyway, my throat is still sore. When I swallow it feels kind of scratched. I'm going to have to keep an eye on this, and if it doesn't get any better I'll have to make my usual decadial visit to the doctor's.

Hopefully next week, barring any more insect/windpipe incidents, I can get back on track and shave a few more minutes off my route. Because the 10K is sneaking up on us pretty damn quickly and want to run a damn good time.

                                                                Damn good. 

Hopefully then it will be a bit cooler too. 

Until next time,

Rhydd.

PS. Later that day I fell out of a tree and cut myself to ribbons. 

Just thought I'd mention it.

Day (I have really no idea) 10 July 2013-Nice day for a wedding

Today has been a special day as today is the day Julie and Andrew finally got married.

Quietly.

With no fuss.

After they cancelled the last time, they tried to plan it in between chemo sessions, for when Julie was likely to be at least chance of infection and feeling the best she possibly could be. They did not want to wait until after her treatment had completed, because that seemed so far away, but they did not want to announce it to loads of guests in case they had to cancel it again. Also because Julie is self concious of the way her looks have changed and the way her senses have been affected by the tumour and chemo, she wanted it as quiet and intimate as possible.

So they decided to get married with just themselves, and two witnesses present, and that was me and Dean.

Although extremely honoured that they had asked us, I was surprised, but they explained to us that we were the only ones that knew both of them before they met, and as it was us that introduced them, it felt symbolic and right for them. And as it happens, their wedding day was exactly a year to the day that I told Julie about Andrew. Fate or what!!


And so they got married, the bride was radiant, the groom was nervous and the witnesses had a tear in their eye.

It was beautiful and emotional and we had a lovely Italian meal afterwards.

Then we all went home for a nap (not together).

How Rock and Roll!!!....But just the way they wanted it.

Congratulations Mr and Mrs Hamnett...may your luck start changing from now xxx

Day 6578 (or so it seems) 4 July 2013

                              I'm in a really bad mood.

No particular reason, I just am. Tell a lie ....there are several reasons, but I'm not going to bore you with them, just be assured

                      I am in a REALLY REALLY bad mood.

And I have been for a couple of days.

'Go for a run!', Mummy says...'that will make you feel better!'

Yeah, right, sure it will..

.'Go on!, Mummy knows best!!'

No she doesnt.

But part of me thinks she may be right, so I put my gear on.

Now when I'm in a bad mood, everything and everyone annoys me..the dogs are annoying me, the kids are nagging and its annoying me and Dean is breathing. Yes, its annoying me, but despite this he decides to come and keep me company.

Fool.

We walk the other way round the course, to make it interesting.

Its not interesting.

I'm too hot.

'Take your coat off then'..Mr S exclaims.

'I cant, too much fluff under my pits today'.

I've got the wrong water bottle with me. It doesnt feel right.

                              My battery in my phone keeps bleeping. Its annoying me.

                                                                     There are too many kerbs, my knees are jarring.

Time to run..

I take one step, but there's an awful burning down my right shin, so I stop.
                                                                                                    Walk a bit longer.
                                                                                                                   
 The pavements are too narrow,
                             there are too many people,
                                                    the sun is in my eyes,
                                                                            its too windy,
                                                                                         I feel too fat.

 I try again to run....back comes the pain.

                                          I shout at Dean.

                                       He shouts back at me.

                                                 Bastard.

                                                I start to cry........ Cos of course it's all his fault.

                                  Run aborted, we fast walk instead.

                                 I think I'll try again tomorrow :(