If anyone actually read this blog, they might be worried that I’d died during the Bath Half (marathon). They shouldn’t worry though, because I didn’t.
I ran it. There are unflattering photos to prove it. 2 hours 48 seconds. Pretty good but obviously a bit (48 seconds) annoying… What’s more annoying is that I realised I don’t really like big running events. All the people cheering me on – I just find that irritating. Like they’re making me run when I might want to stop and walk a bit. The bastards.
After the Bath Half (marathon) I had a mystery illness (it was a cold), which made a 20 hour journey from Bristol to Brazil less fun than you would imagine. At the end of it I was in Brazil though, so that was good. After 3 days of coughing on everyone I was supposed to be teaching, I discovered that the best natural cold remedy is “too many caipirinhas”. I woke up the next day with an appalling hangover, but no cold. Then I went to the beach. Winner. Shenanigans aside, the Brazil trip should’ve been the perfect opportunity to do some running. I had some grand ideas of me running along Copacabana and Ipanema, accumulating the perfect tan before jumping straight into the sea. Lovely stuff. However, it turns out that Brazil is really hot, so I didn’t do that. In fact, I only made it out for 2 runs the whole time we were there and they were both a bit pathetic.
So now I have exactly one month until the London Marathon and I’m nowhere near where I’d like to be with my training. 10 miles tonight was easy enough, but the thought of doing 16 more is just utterly awful. It’s so so boring. I only manage to get through these longish runs because I have Rob for company. I’m not sure how I’ll manage a whole marathon with no talking. Waaaah. Poor me. I’ve chosen a terrible hobby. Waaaaaaaaaaaah.