New year, new me

Right - we've been quiet but that's because I've been ill and Sarah's been drunk. And ill. But it is new years eve and the training is going to start afresh very soon. I am a massive pudding again and a 4.5 mile run last night has left me with achy legs. Not good. But I'm relatively optimisitc and I'm even going to say wildly untrue things like "I'm going to run the Edinburgh Marathon in under 4 hours". So here we go:

I'm going to run the Edinburgh Marathon in under 4 hours. Yes I am. Just you watch.

In other news, hilarious tales of Singapore and Borneo where documented in the Holiday Diaries. Once I type these up, I'm probably upload them to me website for your enjoyment. So look out for tales of Mahoosive spiders and The Man That Loves His Job (TMTLHJ).

Peace out y'all

Greenie x

Chimpanzee that, MONKEY NEWS

Today we went to the zoo. Singapore zoo is ace. I have wanted to go for many a year cos the animals aren't in cages but surrounded by a ditch. Whilst at the zoo, we had a go at stopping the award winning toilets being award winning, rode an elephant, posed with orangutangs (looking slightly scared) and said cheeky monkey in a northern accent a lot. There were no spiders though, which disappointed me as I wanted to scare Cherry. Well there were two but they were tarantulas which are just like a small rodent really. Nothing scary there.

We avoided the animal shows for fear that the chimpanzees would be dressed up smoking cigars and generally being not monkeys but did pose with as many of the cheeky bottoms as possible. The baboons were particularly ace.

Then we came back to the apartment, had a swim and a long steam. At what temperature does a human die? We got to 40 degrees. That is very very hot.

Now it is time to hunt some food!!!

Singapore Slings

Hello!

We've just flown into Singapore and boy are our arms tired!

It was a gruelling journey and one on which we learned many things. These include:

- Baileys tastse bad at 7am
- this doesn't stop anyone
- reading Take a Break gives you ugly children (it is important to hold it away from your ovaries, or to wear a lead pinny.
- Qatar is a dry and therefore dull airport
- People STARE at you in Qatar - probably cause they are so bored.
- birds don't exist
- except ducks
- always travel in a thong because if your luggage doesn't arrive you can wear it 6 ways (normal pants only 2)

So we arrived in Singapore and went out on the lash - this is good for jetlag apparently. What we've seen so far has been ace, I particularly liked the rooftop bar with views over the city.

Oh and we are so very tired.

Cx

Holiday! Celebrate!

Hello,

We are off to Singapore in less than 48 hours! I’ve had my tetanus jab which caused me to lose the use of one arm and both hemispheres of my brain. Still not long now, and thank goodness there is no more pesky running. My toenails have nearly all grown back now! That said, training will commence again in earnest on our return to the U of K so as not to revert back to pudding status.

Go us

CG

Never ever, bloody anything, ever again

This time next week Jones and I will be on our way to Singapore! A full 24 hours and a 6 hour stopover in Catarrh (I know) later and we will be emerging from the plane slightly rumpled and sporting black eyes and fingernail scratches as a result of driving each other bloody mad. After a few days in Singapore we are off to Kerching (I know again) in Borneo for a jungle adventure. Oh and I’m not running the marathon. I am worried about the heat. That and I found out how much the health insurance would be.

Mind you I wouldn’t be surprised if Singapore was the sort of place where they MAKE you run if you have entered.

However on our return we will surely post pictures of our adventures on this very blog, and there is no need to cry, because the blog will live on as we prepare for the Edinburgh marathon. This will be especially exciting as it will feature guest bloggers Hannah and Charlotte, and anyone else we can con into running with us. It will also feature a weekly spot from Sarah, “Creaky’s Corner” (Name up for debate) where she discusses the issues closest to her heart that week. It is very, very unlikely that any of these will involve running. Maybe we could also feature bare knuckle fighting from members of the public. But I just had that idea and it hasn't been properly processed yet.

That’s all for now folks. More later in the week.

Green

A word from that massive lamer, Sarah

So, I stopped training and I REALLY stopped training. I haven't run since I decided that I wouldn't be doing the marathon. I am thinking that I need to do some exercise because I am eating a lots of pies at the moment. I may start cycling to work again. The downside to this is that it is really cold. I am also thinking of swimming, badminton and other fun things so I only have to run once a week.

Also, unlike other fools, I am not entering the Edinburgh marathon. I have seen how hilly it is!!

Sarah is back! Yay

Hello

I'm back. Yes, it is me. The flaky non runner who has been hiding in Colorado. Colorado and more precisely Boulder. As I haven't been running let me update you on what I have been doing. I went to Boulder, Co for a conference on Education, but enough about work. I have been mainly ordering room service and getting beaten up by customs trying to leave. One of them wacked me round the face with a plastic tray. There is sort of a bruise and everything (it hasn't finished the initial painful lumpy phase yet. The bruise is to come). Ok, it wasn't deliberate but it still hurt. There was the whole fluttering of eyes wide with shock, slightly tear filled gazing with the facial expression of why? Why did you do that? Then I had to hunt down wine which I didn't feel guilty about drinking cos I ain't running a marathon anymore. Mwa ha ha

Onwards to Edinburgh

Well supposedly I’m going to run 16 miles tonight, but I still have a poorly throat and don’t much fancy my chances. Still did 8 last night with relative ease.

In other news I have signed up for the Edinburgh Marathon in May 2008. Charlotte (The Kracken) and Hannah are doing it too and you know what this means?

THIS BLOG WILL NEVER END, I WILL CONTINUE TO RUN LIKE A BASTARD. I WILL NEVER STOP MOANING ABOUT HOW MUCH ME FEET HURT. WHITESNAKE WILL NEVER STOP ROCKING!

HURRAH!

Poor little feet

Well I didn’t do 10 miles last night. I think I managed about 6. Looks like being ill has hammered my fitness more than I thought it would. Oh dear oh dear oh dear.

Still, the time has come to talk about my feet.

My feet are my favourite part of me, and they are absolutely perfect. No manky toenails, no hard skin, just perfect feet. Always impeccably pedicured and soft to the touch.

That was before the running.

Now my feet resembled the gnarled claws of a goblin with arthritis. They are calloused and have the texture of rhino hide.

On feeling utterly dejected and unable to run

Well you are stuck with me again cause Sarah has gone gallivanting off to somewhere that I think might be Colorado for work. Right so I’m going to go running tonight, just for a change.

I’m going to do about 10 miles tonight. I’ve completely lost track of the schedule, so I’m just going to do what I feel like.

It’s all going wrong.

And another thing

OK I always theorised that Katie Holmes might not be related to Shelock, what with marrying a gay dwarf and that whole Scientology bollocks, but really, for the love of all that is holy, when you are running a marathon you wear a bra!

Heavens!

And then there was one!

OK so I’m on me own. And I am rising to the challenge. I have spent the weekend psyching myself up, listening to The Eye of the Tiger and shadow boxing in my dressing gown. OK I haven’t. I’ve spent the weekend dying of tonsillitis and generally wracked with fear.

AIDS of the tonsils notwithstanding (one of my tonsils is bisexual) if I’m going to survive this race, I am going to have to start trying a lot harder. So from here on, no alcohol shall pass my lips until the 2nd December. That’s right, I’m only taking my booze rectally from now on. So in between sherry enemas, I shall be running immense distances and not going out. I shall also be drinking herbal tea, burning essential oils and washing my hair in waterfalls. I’m basically going to be no fun at all.

I’m also starting to freak out on a whole different level. Most of you probably know I am mortally afraid of spiders. Now Sarah has spun me some yarn about the all the spiders having been driven out of Borneo, like the snakes from Ireland (now that would be worth a sainthood). But I have dismissed this as malicious fancy, and did a google search for the words “Borneo”, “spider” and “massive”. It turns out that there are indeed TARANTULAS in Borneo and that they are largely arboreal. When Sarah announces out accommodation tomorrow, you will see why I am going to be sleeping with a cricket bat, a can of raid and a crucifix.

Gibber!

Captain Bumbag throws in the towel

And so I face, the final curtain

Alas, alack and similar terms. I am bowing out. I can't take the pace. After a long internal struggle I have decided not to run the full marathon in Singapore. I could list the numerous reasons but they would all just sound like excuses, which essentially they are. The bottom line is, I can't face the training. It is just too much. I shall have to find some other more reasonable challenge to try. (I might try for the half still though)

However, I do plan to keep blogging. And Cherry is still going to run (depending on how fast she can get over her tatty corpse illness). I will spend my words on telling you about what we are planning to do. So far, we are going to Singapore and arriving on Thursday lunchtime. I think that day will be dinner and bed. We have Friday and Saturday free and will do stuff including going to the very highly rated Singapore zoo. Sunday, Cherry dies, I clap and then there is some lounging by the pool. Monday is spent doing something Richard has organised for me birthday and then flying in the evening to Borneo. Haven't made the where we stay official yet but that can always be tomorrows blog....

ps I am happy again now I don't have to train and am just going on holiday!!!

Dear oh Dear

I’m letting Sarah come up with the next poll. So strap yourselves in for something along the lines of “Cherry is a…” and I shall joyously await being outed as gay on me own webspace.

In other news I have a new sports bra. I went past all the nice girly bras in M&S and quickly found the section filled with items made from Hessian, sack cloth and parachute harnesses. I’m going to test drive it tonight, but hopefully it wont rip my skin off like my other ones do.

I now have more running bras than nice bras.

Three.

Just realised how foolish I'm being...

...I'll simply turn up to my interview dressed as a pumpkin.

Genius

London is shrinking (Sarah)

When I lie me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my knees to keep
Because I dont' bloody well want them. Must have been running like a fool yesterday as my left knee is shrieking in protest and it hasn't done that in a while. I ran me 8 miles last night and feel virtuous because of it. However, I would like to complain that London is shrinking. Yes, it really is. With my new gee whiz tool of a Garmin, I can measure precisely how far I have run. I have an 8 miles circuit. Garmin agreed that it was 8 miles before so why did it decide yesterday that it wasn't. Apparently it is only 7.7 miles now. The only explanation is that London is shrinking. It can't be me or the Garmin.

I'm down to do ten tonight and I am a little bit scared. I might fall asleep in my dinner afterwards.

Halloween (Cherry)

After a slightly boozy weekend were I did everything but run (I even did a gig!) I am rising phoenix-like from my own ashes. Last night I did 10, today off, tomorrow running is going to involve getting up at daft o clock as I have work, two interviews, evening class AND a Halloween party to go to. I suspect my fancy dress will not be my best. In fact it will probably be a re-enactment of last year’s Count Crapular effort. Since I will be in a suit, maybe I can roll around in some soil and claim I have just escaped the grave. Maybe not. I think ghoulish dressing up opportunities for a person in a beige suit are limited to:
- 7/7 survivor (still not quite finding this funny though, bit close for comfort)
- Steve Irwin (Very funny but done by Chris last year)
- Decaying corpse that had to go to an interview (lame)
- Count Crapular.

Any ideas?

Weekend running - Meant to upload this yesterday

Sarah says:

Well I said I would do 5 and 18 over the weekend. I lied. I did 5 and 5. I was pitiful on Sunday. The moment it rained finished me off. To be honest it wasn't going well before that. I think my residual illness wasn't helping. While my legs were fine, the jolting of my head made it hurt and my vision seemed to be half a millisecond behind where it should have been. Oh well. This week I am going to stick to the timetable totally and be generally very very good. That even gives me Wednesday off for halloween. Hooray.

In a totally unconnected matter, I think a new law should be bought in for noisy eaters. All of them should die. There are some very basic social rules and not eating loudly is one of them. I have people in my office that eat / slurp loudly and I want them destroyed!

Cherry says:
Poor old Sarah, she was poorly but still managed to bravely do flaming shots of Sambuca in the pub on Friday night. I didn’t run much over the weekend, but I did drink a fair bit.

Sarah’s dislike of noisy eaters is one which has been well documented through history. Lets hope the main offender happens to be browsing this site and gets the hint. Although I suspect that just telling him to eat with his mouth closed might be kinder… but what do I know?

Look who's hauled her moth-eaten corpse into work today!

Oh dear me. I haven't run for over a week. That is bad, bad, bad (gently rocking in my work swivel chair). I solemnly swear that I will run on Saturday a distance of 5 miles and then on Sunday, a distance of 18 miles. That will help my conscience. If I don't then please poke me in the eye with something sharp. In my defence, I have been ill and sickly thus could not run. Unfortunately the gods that rule the marathon aren't going to shorten the distance just cos I was a bit poorly one week during training.

My sister told me to hurry up and write some funny things like Cherry. I think I may have been insulted. And she nagged me earlier about not training enough. Ok she has a point but honestly, I'm 30 and not my brother who is useless when it comes to training for things, as he well knows! I shall give a one fingered salute in her general direction when I trot round 18 on Sunday. More likely I will frown my eyebrows because nothing else works but you get the point.

I think it's time we talked about Uri Geller

Well guess what I’m going to be doing tonight. Yep. Running. But I’m sick to dashed hell of writing about running, so instead I’m going to put out a little plea to the blog followers. Both of you.

Someone intimated to me this week that I may have rather too much spare time on my hands, and while I unequivocally insist that this isn’t the case, I have spent this week trying to wind up Uri Geller.

Uri Gellar is a worker of the dark arts and a greater threat to all that is good and true than JK Rowling. As such we should all send him prank emails!
Remember though, being the most powerful psychic known to man, Uri will know what we are up to if we think about it too hard. So remember to try and not think much while you are doing it. I’ve found this adds to the outcome. Here is one of the emails I have sent Uri Gellar in the last week.

Dear Uri,

I think that I am your biggest fan ever. I have pictures of you in every room. I don't have that many rooms, but if I did, I would fill them with pictures of you!

I also have seen nearly all your TV appearances and can report the following strange phenomenon:
1) Once you were on TV and you asked people to put their watches on the TV and see if any thing happened. I put an old nurses watch my mum gave me on the TV. It didn't work before hand, and afterwards it didn't work either. What must have happened is that your psychic brainwaves must have mended it, but been so strong that they actually broke it again! Wow!
2) When you were on I'm A Celebrity I was totally cured of a headache! It came back when the series ended though.

What am I saying? You probably already know this being a psychic! Anyway I would love your signature, would you be able to sign a fork for me?

Your biggest fan

Cherry


It all started when I made myself giggle at the idea of complaining to Uri that he wasn’t replying to the mental messages I was sending him. I knew I was sending them out because Derek Acorah rang me up and asked me to keep the noise down.

So please join me in winding up this grinning man-tard and tell me tales of your Uri Baiting.

Thanks kids.

Sarah's blog

Sniff sniff, snivel. Wail of self pity, cough splutter, zzzzzzz, sniff sniff. Repeat indefinitely.

Hello and New POLL!

Well the first thing that you should notice is that we have a new poll! So why not vote for your favourite choon?

Neither of us ran last night. Sarah is ill. She has been remarkable healthy lately, but usually her default state is ill, so it’s not a massive surprise. However she is also at work today, driven out of her home by a desire to avoid a class division-loaded encounter with her cleaner.

I didn’t run last night because it was cold and Ghost Hunting with McFly was on the telly. McFly are now officially my favourite band after blatantly being more creeped out by Yvette Fielding than by ghosts.

That’ll do…

Cherry survived the Maidstone half marathon without vomiting blood!

Well I did the Maidstone half at the weekend which is why I am using a walking frame to get about today. So yesterday I had to wake up at the absolute arse crack of dawn and venture out in sub artic temperatures.

Oh you should have seem me, at one point I was pulling one minute miles, but all too soon I arrived in Maidstone and parked the car, and things were much slower after that.

It would appear that road races are a really good place to find people you wouldn’t want to leave your kids with. A quick glance around and I clocked the following freaks.
- a man who was approximately 7 feet tall, and who’s Adam’s apple gave his neck the appearance of a scalene triangle
- An elderly gentleman who looked for all the world like that bloke on Fat Ray Mears’ latest series, but wearing miniscule shorts.

Anyway, Hannah and I trotted to the start line, which seemed to be an unnecessary distance away from the car park. And once the starter siren went off, she was off like a hare and I took my place at the back.

I had hypothesised my own technique for the race which I was keen to try out. This was to get behind someone with an interesting arse and focus on that for 13 miles. You need to make sure that the arse you pick isn’t too fast, or you will die. Unfortunately I abandoned this technique early as the arse I had chosen slowed to a painful crawl up hill, and I think dropped out altogether in the end.

In the first mile an old man with the appearance of a gnarled old goat streaked past me, I felt humiliated; I thought to myself “I’m not having that”. And sure enough my perseverance paid off and after ten miles of chasing I caught up with him and passed him. He must’ve been sixty. I was around this point that I also overtook superman, who seemingly has let himself go a bit in recent years. Or maybe there is a vein of Kryptonite under Kent.

But anyway, to cut a long and painful story short, I finished in 2 hours 13 mins, which I was pretty pleased with. Because I have low standards.

Sarah does some running!

It is a week since I last blogged but then again, it was also a week between runs. Yes, last night found me pounding the streets for another 16 miler. It hurt but it wasn't as bad as the week before. I can still walk downstairs. It is also lovely confidence booster. Yes, I can run for ages and ages and not die kind of boost. Especially after my poor show on running this week. On Monday I had a day off due to being tired from the weekend (or rather a series of weekends) and running on your day off is just wrong. Tuesday I had an unexpected drink with a friend before they went back off to the other side of the world for at leasst 6 months and wednsday I had PMT which made me go to sleep. As PMT always does to me.

Nothing amusing happened on last night run. Nothing unusual or interesting. It was in fact very boring but to talk about and at the time. Next week I plan to do an 18 miler. That will really hurt too. Still, soon all this fun and games will be over. Now why haven't I lost as much weight as last time I ran a marathon. Hummmm.

siggggh

Well another week with not much running, which is bad news for those of us that wrote a blog about weeing themselves because there has been nothing to push it down the page.

It’s the Maidstone Half Marathon on Sunday. Everyone is dropping out except me and the legend that is Hannah Evans. A very petite, perfect blonde who can do 8 minute miles. This means that I shall be lumbering along looking like a sort of asthmatic acromeglic by comparison. Ah well.

No running tonight as I’m going out, but I plan to do 10 tomorrow. It’s probably not a good thing that my commitment is waning so close to race day. Yikes.

I RAN A HALF MARATHON AND WET MYSELF

Hello.
Last night Sarah and I went running together. I had to keep asking her to slow down cause I couldn’t keep up with her! She also did about 3 miles more than me. Someone who has been out on the lash for the past 3 nights was outstripping me by miles. Why oh why must I be so rubbish? I blame my parents. I think I might have some sort of congenital shitness.

While out pounding, we came upon a weird shrine somewhere in Dulwich Village. Or at least I saw it, and made Sarah go back to look at it. It was REALLY creepy, behind some railings and set in dense vegetation. It was lit by red Christmassy lights and full of pictures and statues of the Virgin Mary. We looked at it for a few seconds but it freaked us out so much we had to run away. I think it was the fastest bit of running we did all night. You will also be pleased to know that comedic license was not sacrificed, and we ran away with arms outstretched in the style of Scooby Doo cast members running away from a g-g-g-ghost!

Seriously though it was creepy. It was interesting enough for me to want to go and find it and take a photo of it, but scary enough to make sure I don’t go on my own!
So, that was fairly early on in the run but by this time I had already started to need a wee. In a previous blog I claimed that in the event of nuclear strike on London, only my sports bra would survive. I’d like to update that. Only my sports bra and my pelvic floor muscles would survive. How many people can hold a full bladder for 2 hours whilst RUNNING? And I nearly made it home too! However on the last stretch I tripped over a paving slab and nearly fell over. I had to do that staggery recovery, and while I was wind milling frantically, my bladder control lapsed and a wee was born. Naturally the first thing I did was say to Sarah “a bit of wee came out!” But I was damning my wee with faint praise because it was actually quite a lot of wee and I had to run home with wet pants!

Friction burns were kept to a minimum as I covered myself in band-aids to prevent the appearance of one who has had a chemical peel when I take me bra off. However I do have a blister the size of a ten pence piece on my foot. And a wee in my running trousers.

Friday and Sarah is glad

I have noticed that I have been a bit whiney of late. I shall try and be happier today. I am in fact happy. Happy but in pain. Yesterday I ran a colossal 16.16 miles. Yes, that's right 16.16 miles. That is only 9.44 miles short of a whole marathon. I feel better for not having trained in a week now. Admittedly my legs are not very happy and while I solved one friction burn through surgical tape and cotton wool, my body got its revenge with some others. The best two are just below my bottom cheeks. My jeans are rubbing them nicely as I walk so I am walking in the manner that Tina Turner dances. There are some fun ones in my right armpit area too. That meant this mornings deodorant application was followed by a war dance but silently, so as not to wake Jon.

I am still very tired but had to get up early this morning to pack as I'm off for the weekend. I would have done it last night but on return from my run I had trouble moving from the sofa of joy and comfort where I was happily watching A Knights Tale. Good film. I recommend it. No training until Sunday for me now. Yippee

On not wanting to run tonight

Cherry says

Well there has been some slackness on the running front. Sarah has been going out every night like the Bobby Razzler she is and I have just not been running. This means it’s going to be a long one tonight, which we are all delighted about. Some viscous lies about running 14 miles tonight have been put out into the Cosmos, but we shall have to wait and see. Bah.

Sarah says
I haven't run in a week. I am supposed to go out and do a long one tonight but there is the chance for shopping to add to the torment. I will be good and will go home and run but I am knackered. So knackered I could probably cry very easily at someone if they just said the wrong thing in that totally unreasonable girl way. 14 miles, here I come. Yayyyy (that was a very sarcastic yay in my head). Maybe it is time for a snooze in the first aid room. No one will notice.

Bad girls

Well Sarah and I didn't run last night. We went to the pub and got hammered instead. Ha!

I even had a kebab.

My excuse is I am waiting for my blisters to mend...

ouch

OK here is the thing. I am in denial. I am so far in denial I practically have my own pyramid.
I am never going to survive this marathon. Last night was 14 miles. I managed about 12 miles, whereupon I had to stop because I could see the light and various relatives who had passed on.
26 miles! How the chuff am I ever going to manage that? Seriously it is beyond the powers of any normal human.

Shoes

Hello,

I haven’t done my 14 mile run yet, I’m doing it tonight. That should be a laugh.

I bought a pair of proper marathon running trainers at the weekend, they are “gait correcting” ones. I always thought I ran normally, but apparently I was running like a massive spazzy all this time! I was also slightly despairing to learn that my old trainers were essentially glorified plimsolls and had no support whatsoever. The man in the shop was surprised I had any toenails left. So either I now own the most magical running shoes, or I am the biggest chump in the world.

That's a baaaad Sarah

I haven't run since I ran 14 miles as life got in the way. I was going to get back to it tonight but have remembered that I have plans which involve beer. That means that my only 2 free nights this week, tomorrow and thurs will be taken up with lovely long runs but will still be nowhere near enough. Oh dear.

Truncated entry from Sarah

Yesterday, 14 miles. Today so tired I can't move. I'm typing this with my tongue

And Sarah uses the word "smeg"

No running yesterday as it was a day off. Today, now that is a different matter. I am supposed to be running 14 miles. The distance itself doesn't bother me unduly (weird if you think how recently I couldn't run at all) What bothers me is the time. I will get in about 6.25 and have a small energy snack (a chocolate brownie) get changed and be out the door about 6.45. Then I will run and run and run. By the time I get back it will be 9.15. Then I have to shower and change and flake for about 10 minutes to get some energy back. That takes me clearly to 9.45. When the smeg am I supposed to eat my dinner?!?! Everyone knows that you aren't supposed to eat that late! My running book recommends that you don't eat late. I work. I sleep. I want to eat too but it seems that is the thing that will have to go due to lack of time!

Can we go to the pub now? From Cherry

OK, yesterday was a rest day but I don’t feel terribly rested. I feel I have plateaued somewhat in the fitness stakes. Probably because I haven’t stuck to my plan properly. I’m doing 7 miles tonight, which all things considered, could be worse.

In the mean time we are trying to plan our trip round Malaysia, which is a reminder that there is something fun at the end of these months pounding the pavements in the drizzle and the dark.

And finally, I need to buy a new pair of trainers as my current pair have now been completely flattened by my plodding footsteps. Oh joy

grumble

Yeah I must say I agree with Creaky’s points below. Marathon training takes up sooo much time. I’m bored to death of running. All I do is pound the streets and sleep. As a result I haven’t cleaned the kitchen properly in several weeks.

In other news, we all dressed up as pirates for Creaky’s birthday. There should be pictures before too long, and we shall put them up on this very site. Oh yes.

Creaky's back!

Well, it has been a long time since I have put something up as I have spent time in Devon and celebrating my birthday. (Yes, I was indeed 30 - thank you Cherry). I was on holiday in Devon but did that stop me training. Oh no. Nor did the daily humiliation of running with my Dad and Sister, fitness freaks the pair of them, nor did the hills get in the way. I was immense. Actually I slowly plodded round, grumbling the entire way and hating it. Mainly because I forgot to take my radio so the screaming voices were there in power and were trying with every step to stop me.

I am also currently suffering with runners fatigue. That isn't that I feel knackered (which I do) but I am bored with constantly washing running kit, of getting home from work and having to go training not just plonk on the sofa with tea and biscuits. There is the cancelling plans or altering them as I have to fit in a run. Bored bored bored. Training for a marathon takes over your life. There is no two ways about it. Take this week. I decided to run 8 last night, 7 tonight and then have tomorrow off (when I will see Shark Attack 3 at the Barbican) Then instead of going out thursday which is my current official plan, I will instead be running, then another run on Friday before I head home to Poole. Then a shorter run on Saturday before diving. It is getting annoying. I have lots of weekend plans between now and the marathon but it means that I have to constantly alter my life during the week to try and cover enough miles. Sigh. Still, not long to go really. Well over half way through training! Eek

Bah and also Humbug

Well, I know someone who didn’t run last night.

What shall we talk about instead?

Lasty's last stand

Hello,

Well Creaky is off in the wilds of Devon for the week. I’m sure she won’t mind me telling you that she turns 30 on Saturday. I’m sure she also won’t mind me saying that that makes her the oldest person in the entire universe, where as I at 29, am a vision of youthful nubility by comparison. There is light reaching us from the Andromeda Galaxy that isn’t as old as her.

Still on with the point. Running is boring the arse off me. There are still months and months of it to go and my schedule is looking at me with its eyebrows raised and suggesting I do 8 miles tonight. Here is the rub though:

I. Cannot. Be. Bothered.

Still, I suppose I don’t have much of a choice if I don’t want to die in Singapore.

In other news, Sarah did her Monkey run at the weekend, I couldn’t attend cause I was wildly hungover because a Monkey tipped a load of gin down my throat the night before.

Still onwards and upwards. Or at least not any more backwards and downwards. Siiggh

The Day After the Run

I hurt today. As Lasty mentioned, we ran a long long way yesterday. I did 12.5 and thought about pushing on to the half marathon point but just couldn't face running passed the bottom of my road and away from warmth, water and feeling in my legs. Today I have 4 friction burns. The shorts burn is a new one. Rubbed me raw straight across my back. Makes sitting down a joy. Thankfully my shoulder injury was fine. A little stiff today but the pain in my knees is drowning that out. My legs don't bend today. Me knees pop when I walk up and down stairs. I think this is a punishment for laughing at Charlotte when she ran a half marathon competitively and couldn't move the next day when we saw her in the pub.

In other news, me and Lasty have entered a half marathon at the end of October. This is to make sure that we are still training and focussed. And can run 13 miles.

My brother has suggested training in cling film to get used to the humidity in Singapore. Maybe I will!

Experiencing pain on a par with the 6th level of hell.

Greetings,

Yesterday Sarah – sorry, Creaky and I went out on a long long run. I think I covered about 11 miles in total before having to call it a night when one of my hips went a bit dodgy. Today everything hurts like hell. How can this running lark be good for you, I never felt this bad in the morning after a night on the vino! I’m starting to feel genuinely terrified that I might not make it round the course. 11 miles nearly killed me and that’s not even half!

In other news, can anyone who is out on the pavement in the evenings kindly get the hell out of the way. Once you’ve covered about 7 miles it is really hard to start and stop because your legs are working independently of your brain. So for information:
- You don’t need to take up the whole pavement with your arms and legs swinging about willy nilly. Pick a side of the pavement and stick to it or I will run you over.
- If you see me approaching at a run, get out of the way. Don’t stand there dithering or ignoring me or BY GOD I WILL RUN YOU OVER.

So there we go, and today’s post includes a lovely picture of me and Sarah.

More on the Walky debate

Right. Walky is a rubbish nickname. When we discussing our cool new nicknames I way preferred to be known as Creaky. Creaky is great. It suggests the way I move at the moment perfectly. It also describes how I feel after I have finished running. But no, Lasty tries to make me be called Walky. I sound just enough like a Chuck Norris character to feel uncomfortable and slightly soiled (like Lasty's pants when I have finished kicking her arse).
A Vote Creaky for Creaky is a vote for inflexible people everywhere.....
(Like anyone else cares.)

Walky or Creaky

Apparently Sarah doesn't want to be called Walky, she wants to be called Creaky instead.

Sounds like I should try and get the poll feature on this site working... it will be like naming a Blue Peter pet (except we wont fix the results)!

Lasty x

Cool nicknames

It’s not been a great week for marathon training it has to be said. Sarah has done her shoulder in and has been off school, and I hurt my back, had a sore throat, PMT and an incident on Sunday involving me, some gravity and a large hole in the ground.

But still, we are going to attempt to run tonight. I’ve decided to give us cool, tough, marathon nicknames to inspire us towards greatness. Gone are Sarah and Cherry, and here are Walky and Lasty.

Genius eh?

Lasty x

Sarah. Friend of Monkeys

Hello readers (or should that be Reader?),

To warm up for our marathon, Sarah is taking part in the Great Gorilla Run to raise money for Gorillas, who need it to buy bananas, tea sets and tyres. For added effect she will be running the 4K dressed as a gorilla.

Loads of gorillas are having a really bad time. They are being needlessly killed for meat and the pet trade (I should know, I killed 2 on the way to work this morning). Plus they have bugger all habitat left and are highly endangered.

Please please please sponsor her. It is in a good cause. Plus check out the suit - how cool is that?

http://www.justgiving.com/sarah_jones

Please, think of the monkeys.

Fangs a lot.

Day off - wooooo!

Today is a rest day and me and Sarah are going OUT!

We are going to Belgo’s to eat mussels and drink too much. It’s all going to end in sick!

Ah to Blog

It is about week 7 of training and I think we are one week off being half way through. This is scary but then I think I am a lot fitter than I was 7 weeks ago so perhaps it will all be fine. A new development over the weekend was the gift of a Garmin from my sister. It is her old one. It is a computer that tells you how fast / far and for how long you have been going. This is good because it means I can run any course I like. It is bad because you are very, very conscious of how far you have run and how slowly. And the calories. I can't believe the calorie counter. Apparently yesterdays 5 miler only burnt 147 calories. Surely not. It must have burnt at least 25,000. It felt like it anyway. Honestly. Bah. Well, I shall try it again today and see if I use more. (147! 147! Surely you use more than that just being asleep!)

The training is now definitely affecting my life. There is a lot less booze (a good thing), a lot more running (not so sure that is a good thing) and a lot more feeling tired (a bad thing). Right now, I feel like I need a week off just to sleep. I slept all yesterday on my day off and I still don't think I have caught up on my tiredness yet. Sigh. Yawn. ZzzzzZZZZZzzzzzz

Marathon news:

OK well Charlotte’s wedding went off without a hitch and me and Jones fitted into our dresses, much to our combined surprise. I caught the bouquet, but not before Sarah’s fingers had closed around it, and during my gloating victory dance I realised all Charlotte and Chris’s relatives were staring at me. Ah well.

In other news in an attempt to improve my diet, I am cutting out sugar, unfortunately I am replacing it with pork pies. But no one is perfect….

Sarah has given up caffeine for some reason...

I am officially dead.
I have done my training for the past two days and it has been fine. My legs can keep going. The problems this week have arisen from my attempt to detox prior to Charlottes wedding. Apparently caffeine is important to my diet. I can't keep my eyes open. I am depressed. I have headaches. This can't be right can it? Surely I am not that dependent. Thankfully the effects were only just kicking in yesterday so I didn't have to worry about the training. I just made it round. If I was supposed to be running today, I would be in big trouble. The only thought I can keep in my head longer than 30 seconds is BED. BED. BED. Scary. Anyway, I have had enough of this purgatory and I am off to find a double dose of caffeine in my lunch break. My God, who would have thought I was so addicted.

Bad girl

Yes we did we booked our flights. However I (Cherry) did not run 18 miles last week. I think I ran about 8. This was due to an injured quad at the beginning of the week and a personal crisis at the end of it. Still, maybe will do better this week.

Yesderday I managed a 2 hour run. Not sure how far I went though - probably about 2 miles as I'm sure at one point I was going slower than walking pace.

Ah well...

Another week another ton of miles

Today we booked our flights. Yes, it is all now real and the truth must be acknowledged. We really are totally insane. Having watched the women's world championship marathon on Saturday, I know a little more about what we have let ourselves in for. They were running in 36 degree heat. We will be running in about 30. That is hot. That is the type of weather where you normally just hang around in the house, eating ice cream and not moving too much. Never mind running 26 bleeding miles. We need our heads read. Oh well, too late now. I am sure those professionals were just putting it on and were a bit weedy hence the near collapse.

In other news, I also got the date of the marathon wrong. It is a week earlier than I had thought. That means a week less training. Oh bugger. I'm sure that we will cope with slightly less running. I say running, it is more a gentle walk with a few more hops in it.

Last week I ran 18 miles. That isn't even the minimum number of miles that should have been run. Minimum was 21. The week before I ran 22 so I don't think I'll worry too much. This week is going to be tricky cos Charlotte gets married on Saturday and we are spending all day Friday with her. Apparently running nine miles does not feature in the plans for the day so I shall have to do some clever shuffling. Sigh. There is always something.

Off schedule but trying

Sarah says:
It is amazing how just a couple of days off running now makes me feel a little bleuugh. I ran on Sat and nearly killed myself. It was hot and I was dehydrated from the evening before. So I took Sunday and Monday off. Whilst my muscles recovered the rest of me felt a bit rubbish and bloated. Until I ran yesterday and miraclously I felt loads better. I have the terrible feeling that I will need to keep running forever to avoid the eurgh feeling. Humm.
Incidentally my love handles are also shrinking. The questions is, will they be sufficiently gone in time for Charlottes wedding in 10 days....

Cherry says:
I'm injured! I did a feeble 4 miles on Saturday and by the end of one of my thighs was screaming for the blessed release of death. I gave it Sunday off, and ran yesterday, but now it hurts again. Will try again on Thursday.
In other news, I'm drying out this week after a session on Monday night that nearly did for me. Next boozing session will be Charlottes wedding. Hope I don't vom down me nice dress!

Endorphins rule.

Everyone should run a marathon. It is brilliant. I feel terrific today! Last night I was woefully behind on my schedule, but pulled off a 7 mile run (complete with sprint finish) and am now well back on track. I’m amazed at how fit I am getting. I am even looking forward to tonight’s run!

In other news, my love handles are shrinking! Only problem is I’m absolutely knackered!

Sarah's blog

We did indeed go to the pub. However, in our defence, we also left the pub at 9.30 which is dead early (I left my card there which was less clever). Being very aware of the training schedule and also impending bridesmaidhood, I got up this morning and ran zombie like for five miles. That is because I did have plans for this evening but they have since been cancelled. Oh well, means I get a whole evening free to lie on the sofa without feeling guilty for having not run. I will be getting up early tomorrow to as I am off to do something else. If I stick to the maximum running plan for the week I will have run 25 miles this week. That is a marathon. No wonder it is so hard

Cherry says...

Well, we went to the pub last night.

Ever the optimist I am going to try and run 7 miles tonight.

I’m not sure if it’s been mentioned here before, but Sarah and I have a small matter of crow barring ourselves into bridesmaids dresses in a mere 2 weeks time. Thus we had better get our running pants on and our drinking pants off. Watch this space..

David Ike rides a bike.

So were are what? Four weeks in, and we haven’t given up yet. Not bad eh? Sure not every run has been run, there has been walking and there has been slacking off, but nonetheless we are still going. But as of next week, the runs get longer and its going to take some fastidious organising in order to be able to fit everything into each 24 hour period. Something has to go and I suspect the old social life will be the first casualty. It’s already been over a week since Sarah and I went to the pub together. That is some kind of record and Norris McQuirter should be dug up and informed.

Tonight I am doing 4 miles. Not too bad. I can run 4 miles with my eyes shut (so long as I don’t have to cross any busy roads) but when you have to do 4 or 5 times a week, it gets really tired. I’m bored of all the music on my MP3 player. ‘John Kettley is a Weatherman’ is a GREAT song, but alas I have heard it one too many times. An Ipod Shuffle is only £49, maybe I should invest. Or maybe I should spend that money on a pair of trainers that don’t rip my toenails off.

Twas on a Tuesday morning, when I beheld me bed

Yesterday, after enormous internal turmoil I managed to force my unco-operating body out the door. My mind was all for the run but my body was hanging onto the door frame by its finger tips yelling no no, let me die in peace. So five miles, some "whoa darling"'s and a brief shower later, I made it home. There, I had to do circuits. Now I remember circuits from when my brother did them. They really hurt him. This didn't overly appeal so I did a gentle version. I did all the exercises twice and timed doing them according to what the book said but I cheated. I had breathers in-between. Not sure why being out of breathe is so important. Perhaps someone else can let me know what I missed by doing it all a little slower.

(managed to do a real Freudian slip when typing this. My bed was hanging onto the door frame. Shows that I am very tired. Anything for a bed. A bed, a bed, my running kit for a bed)

Sarah is a girlie swat, but Cherry uploads the blogs...

Get me!
Today is Monday and the start of another weeks worth of training but I am buoyed by the success of last week. I completed all the miles that I had to and an extra half as well. That means I ran 18.5 miles. Admittedly it wasn't quite in the order it should have been but hey, no one is perfect. Friday I rebelled and went out with a mission in mind to find a pint. Which I succeeded in. Very well. This meant that Saturday I ran ..... Smug grin ...... 7.5 miles all in one go! How rock hard am I? It really wasn't that bad either. This is pretty impressive as a month ago I struggled round 3 miles and even had to walk a bit. On the down side I got my first friction burn from my radio (too cool to have an MP3 player). It is just at the height of my pants and everytime I have to go for a wee I rip the scab off again and whimper in the toilet. OK at home, not so good in public.
Today, as well as the five mile run, for the first time there are circuits on the end. I am not entirely sure how I am going to do them but the marathon guide is very keen on them. I get the feeling that they will hurt. Sigh. Just when the running wasn't as painful.

Hell hath no fury...

Unlike Sarah’s beatific week, I am currently wearing a bad devil outfit comprised of red tights, a leotard and horns on a hair-band. I probably have a plastic pitch fork too.

I have stuffed my face. I have also drunk alcohol every single night. Not in huge quantities, but alcohol none the less. I’ve also been making deals and empty promises with my running schedule, and now in order to catch up, I can’t have a rest day until Wednesday.

In other news the security guard at work asked if I was pregnant yesterday. This is the second time in 6 months this has happened to me. Can everyone just quit asking if I’m pregnant. Despite self effacing blog entries, I’m relatively confident that I don’t actually look pregnant. From now on I’m going to pre-empt the question by walking round constantly smoking, and eating from a wheel of brie. Grrrrr.

Hip hip hooray it is Friday

It is an angel, is it the pearly gates? No, it's Sarah. I have been so good this week I actually hate myself. I have only had one pint and 2 glasses of wine since Saturday night and I have run the correct distances on the correct days. I have not stuffed my face. To be honest, I feel like an empty hollow shell of a person. This isn't me. I am not virtuous. I am evil. I tempt people into the pub. I force wine down their throats. What has gone wrong? I am broken....sob. For once, however, I am not broke at the end of the week as I haven't flipping done anything.

Cherry is like a rainbow, wrapped around a sunbeam, wrapped around a skeleton.

3 miles last night. A walk in the park. Or at least a run in one.

Today should be a rest day but I’m running because I slacked off on Monday. Bring it on I say.

In other news, this morning it was raining and sunning at the same time in Croydon, and a rainbow arced across the sky. It was as though God Himself was beaming down on the town. Then he looked a little closer and the smile started to slip a bit. Then turned to a look of horror, followed closely by disgust. Then he slowly backed away, and then ran. I suppose being omnipotent means you have to spend a certain amount of time in Croydon. That’s certainly what I’m doing here.

Why are my blogs hardly ever about running these days/

Wednesday..... Stay on target, stay on target

Hello, my name is Sarah and I haven't had a drink in three days... Well not a real drink.. It was only a glass of wine! Half way through the week and I am feeling virtuous as I have only had a glass of wine since Saturday and I have kept to the training schedule. I think I have scared myself into realising that I have actually got to be sensible and that I am running a marathon in just under four months. (I originally put "in just over three months" but that too frightening and I had to change it).

Yesterday was a tiddling three miler. Which would have been fine apart from two points. 1. Training in the rain for the first time and 2. My shorts got wet and that made them ride up my thighs and involved me doing most of 2 and half miles in a strange crab shape run with one leg permanently going out sideways to stop the damn things chafing. The rest was spent running like a wild west cowboy in a showdown, legs striding as far apart as possible. All of which looked good. I was a drowned rat with odd muscles hurting when I got in.

Sarah's Monday

Tuesday and its raining.
Yesterday was 5 miles and it wasn't too bad. Admittedly getting myself out the front door to start running was a challenge but one I managed with the help of a packet of maltesers. The run wasn't too bad and for the first time I thought I might be able to further than five miles. Especially if the 6 miles didn't involve going up that great big flipping hill. You see, my route runs round the bottom of a little park and up the other side, then, I go up the north face of Everest complete with grappling hooks and crampons. To top it off I run down the other side and return back over the crest on my way back. I think it is time to find another route.

Overall, I have run 50 miles now! That is miles and miles and miles. It is half way to Poole from London.

Monday and the hell of a return to work

Ok, like the massive slacker I am (thanks for pointing that out Cherry) I did have last week off when I lounged round in my pants not doing much. I did do some runs but then slept the pain off. Now, I have officially entered the Singapore marathon and after a blinding night on Saturday (not blinding because it was such an amazingly good night but blinding as I drank far too much alcohol and couldn't see anymore) I am not drinking this week. I plan to decrease my alcohol intake until it would mean not lying to the doctor. (Come on, who tells their doctor the truth about how much they drink?). There are five miles with my name on them out there and tonight I shall not curse, not complain but silently power my way through them. Well, I will whimper my way round but that is better than my temper tantrums of the past.

Not feeling much inspiration for trying to be funny at the moment as I am too dispirited by return to work.

Cherry says

5 miles tonight. Don’t wanna.

Ouch.

Last night I went running with Charlotte. For those that don’t know, Charlotte is a friend of ours who isn’t running the marathon with us because 1) She’s much better at running than us and would make us look bad and 2) She’s getting married very soon so doesn’t have the time or holiday allowance to swan off to Singapore. She is also able to run and talk at the same time, I don’t know how, I think she must have an extra lung, or a system of air sacs or something.
Anyway I ran with her and she nearly killed me. Although this is good because it meant I pushed myself harder than usual, but bad because lowering myself on and off chairs causes screaming of the muscles. So today is an unscheduled rest day.

Things were also greatly improved by my new titanium and polyester mix sports bra, which keeps the twins in check and doesn’t give me a friction burn. If there were to be a nuclear assault on London, you can rest assured that my bra would survive it. I think it is also stab-proof which will be handy when the longer runs come in and I have to start running through Peckham.

Tales from the brown side.

Hello reader, if indeed you are a reader,

You are still stuck with me as Sarah is lounging about at home like the misfit she is, and with no one to speak to my blogs are going to get more and more strange and scatological. A friend of mine describes August as a wicked month, and I see her point. There is no one good around to email as everyone is on holiday, and work dies off a bit. Since I am one of a dwindling number of people who can be bothered to come into the office this month, this leaves me with no one to talk to, nothing to do and my only outlet into the world rambling into this blog. Which, very probably, no one reads.

Four and a half miles tonight and as the mileage creeps up, my thoughts turn to Poo Stage, and when it will rear it’s turtle’s head. I expect it will be like finally reaching Nirvana or enlightment (although more messy and evil smelling) and come with a tremendous sense of achievement.

Sarah tells me that its around the 8 mile mark, so if all staying on track, I should be running round London with a load in my pants in a matter of weeks. I’m imagining all sorts of Gambling and Losing scenarios, particularly ones where I have put it all on brown.

I’m BORED!

ROCK!

OK how rock am I? Last night I did a full day at work, a 5 mile run AND went to the pub. Amazing what you can achieve when you are trying to avoid unpacking.

I have to say I entirely agree with Sarah’s point of a few days ago, regarding sexually aggressive heckling of the innocent runner. There seem to be a lot of van drivers in the neighbourhood whose particular fettish is, it seems, slightly chubby, sweaty women with crimson faces. Wonder what’s going on there. Shame I don’t fancy Sun reading, wing mirror ignoring morons or I would never be short of a date.

In other news, I stepped on the scales last night and have lost half a stone! Today I am celebrating with Pringles.

Ahh well - from Cherry

Well, it’s fair to say that not much running happened over the weekend. Instead there was drinking beer, barbequing sausages, and moving house. Sarah helped me move, and I think we all got plenty of exercise on account of my old flat being up three million stairs.
Still I hope to arise phoenix like from my own ashes today as I take up running again with gusto. Or maybe tomorrow.

I'm feeling slightly more Snickers than Marathon today.

In other news - Sarah is off work this week like a massive slacker.

Happy Birthday to Cherry

Cherry’s birthday blues.

Well today is a day for forgetting about running and remembering the day of my birth. I didn’t run yesterday, I won’t run tomorrow or Saturday, but I will start again on Sunday.

Today I will mostly be having and internal dialogue that occasionally externalises itself in the form of hysterical shrieking. I will be having a stern word with myself about the last year and discussing ways to be less of a disaster area again this time next year. I think probably not having days off running to go to the pub and celebrate my birthday would be a good start, but never mind that.

For more birthday whining look at this.

Or for a bit of a larf, look at this

God I’m an irritating whingeing old bag! But don’t worry, I’ll be back to normal in no time and the demons will be safely confined to me head where they will fester as a mental illness or malignant tumour.

And over to Sarah…

It's Cherry's Birthday

In an act of unstinting generosity, I am not going to run but go to the pub to help Cherry celebrate her birthday. What a saint I am. I did run yesterday. A four miler. It wasn't too bad. A couple of days off seem to have helped though I was a tad stiff when I first set out. I looked a little like a octogenarian octopus with arthritis. Legs and arms were going everywhere but at strange angles. I am sure for the first half mile, the looks that are normally directed to my chest area were being distracted by the strange wobbling limbs being thrust outwards like I had a personal vendetta against that section of pavement, or those leaves on that tree or the small child on a tricycle.

Anyway, it got better. What I would like to rise though is the male response to my jogging. OK, I have sweat marks everywhere, my face is visible in space and people think it is a mini sun as it is so hot, my hair is held back by a head band beautifully fashioned to circa 1990 yet I get beeped and leery wa-hays. Why? Is it because my boobs, squashed into a sports bra and covered with an ample t-shirt are bobbing up and down, do I look so fetching in sports gear with my VPL and damp patches. I have come to the conclusion that men are stupid and will beep anything. I wish they would stop and allow me to jog in my festering state unnoticed.

The Day the Music Died (Sarah)

Tuesday was written off due to sunshine and an urgent need to visit the pub. It was an issue of national importance. Yesterday, after a very, very early start (doing things I should have done the evening before but was too busy in the pub to do), there was a pizza for lunch and then falling asleep on the sofa when I got home from work. This took any desire of mine to be good and run and led it into a dark alley to teach it a lesson. It won't be making that mistake again. It was all compounded by a fish and chips supper before more dozing on the sofa. On the plus side, I do know what has happened to a number of people a year after they approached the dragons den. Thank God, I was missing sleep on that.

Finally, to top off a long, unsatisfactory day, there was the awakening at silly o clock. This would be the erstwhile "only going for one pint" Jon and Neil. Now Neil is a nice bloke, but please, dear God, once again I was awoken to him strumming a guitar and singing very loudly wwwwwoooooohhhhhh oooohhhhhh. Both are lucky that they weren't confronted with a sleep smudged homicidal female willing to wrap guitar around wwooohh oohhhh heads.
Tonight, I shall resume training.

The Day all hope of anything Died (Cherry)

I did my run! What a saint! I went for a 4 mile limp which was a genuine limp by the time I got home because one of my hips was grumbling and hurting. I maybe need a hip replacement. I am 29 tomorrow after all.

In all honesty, running and hips are the least of my problems. Yesterday my day started with having a filling with no anaesthetic and went steadily downhill from there. I’m moving house at the weekend, enduring multiple personal traumas and am having a serious case of the birthday blues. Another year, another birthday alone, and nothing to show for my life but a series of broken relationships and numerous box-sets of cartoons. In fact if anything this helps my training as my self loathing is now so acute that I actually enjoy the pain of running. It beats self mutilation. I wonder if anyone else has run a marathon as an undetectable form of self harm. Maybe the endorphines will do me good.

I'm off to listen to some Emo rock and dye my hair black.

walking and scowling

Sarah says

Oops. Went to the pub instead of running. But here is a picture of me doing exercise.

Cherry says:

I did my run. Should I post a pic of myself drinking beer?

Tuesday and Beyond - plus a pic of us as vampires

OK, I missed my weekend blog update as I was arguing with a cheesecake yesterday and losing. My weekend consisted of going to see Transformers rather than running and then having to run on my day off to make up for it. Not sure that it was a good exchange with hindsight but it was always a risk. I did another four yesterday (post sleeping off the cheesecake trauma). This bought my total distance run to 26 miles. That is a marathon. I am impressed. Do you think that the Singapore Marathon Authority would mind timing my run over several days and take out all the bits when I am not running? I would probably have a reasonable time. It isn't going to rival Paula Radcliffe but I can promise them not to poo on the side of the road. A reasonable time to me is anything under 5 hours incidentally.

Speaking of timings, I want to run this marathon in about 4 hours 30 minutes. This may be a little unrealistic but I have to aim for something. Normally I aim for cheesecake but I am right off it at the moment. Nasty E-coli carrying cream delight. I am suffering with Minstrels in my cheesecake empty world. Not the singing, playing instruments type but the small round chocolate dream. I may have answered the question "why is Sazza such a pudding at the moment"?

(Mmmmm, cheesecake - Cherry)

The weekend according to Cherry

It’s been a good weekend from a running point of view. I’m a mile up on my plan. However I do have to take a rest day today because my sports bra has given me a friction burn. When I tried to put perfume on to go to the pub last night, some of it went on the burn and cause the worst pain ever. A lot like this I imagine, but not involving the arse. As if running isn’t punishment enough without pouring perfume into burns!
In other news I’ve discovered that running in shorts isn’t an option until my thighs are small enough to not rub together. I nearly burst into flames on Saturday.
I’m thinking I deserve a holiday after all this is done. Especially as I will want to display my newly pert bum in a bikini before I get pregnant with another pie-baby.

Another day, another run

Sarah says:

Today I am feeling smug. This should last until lunch time when my legs drop off but at the moment all is good. Why? I hear you cry. Because since leaving work yesterday and arriving this morning I have managed to fit in 2 runs and some wine. OK so I have only covered 5 miles but that is a nice number. It is distinctly better than the 0 miles I had been running until very recently. It also means that I can enjoy my Friday night without the guilt of a missed run. More wine waiter!

A question that I have been asked by everyone I have mentioned this marathon to, all 3 of them, is "are you and Cherry running together?" The answer is no. We aren't. Why not? Well it is reverse competitiveness. Both of us claim to be the slowest runner so running together we might actually end up going backwards in our attempts to be the slowest. Plus, I am a very anti social runner. I don't have enough puff to talk and I need to listen to music to drown out my body's screams and pleading.


I am feeling tempted to buy some bathroom scales but I am scared about what they will say to me at the moment. I am sure a lot of it would be the scale going Oooofffffff bloody hell. The up side would be when I am a svelte tiny person at the end of this all. Hummm, I think the fear is winning.

Cherry says:

Today I feel OK. Last night I did my run and went straight to bed. I did not watch the X Files. The X Files in on too late for me these days. I think my life will mostly involve muscle soak and early nights for a bit.

3 miles last night which I managed at a gentle trot. I would have made excellent time, but I had to stop and stare intently at a missing cat poster and mentally cross reference it against every cat I had seen in the last two weeks. Coincidentally this took just long enough to get my breath back and for the red spots in front of my eyes to disappear.

So not much improvement on the running front but a strange thing is happening. I don’t fancy drinking much. Normally I consider white wine as one of the major food groups, but it just doesn’t appeal at the moment. Not like Sarah who rehydrated from last nights run with a couple of pints of Grolsh and STILL managed to put in 2 miles before work this morning. How? How is she doing that? It’s all I can do to crawl out of bed in time to go to work, let alone get up early and run the streets. Next week will see me trying rise with the lark and run, so watch this space to see me totally fail in that one.

We can't have hit the wall already - from Saz

This is a poor motivation day. I can't be bothered to work, breathe, let alone run but run I must. There is 2.5 miles of road out there that wants me to pound lightly on its face. That combined with the three clothing changes before work as the first two made me look genuinely pregnant have to motivate me. Oh and I have already eaten about 4000 calories in preparation. Well, I need the energy.

Yesterday was a jolly 3 miler. Not too far but far enough for my legs to rebel when going up or down stairs. Whilst running and about a mile in, I did think "this is getting easier I could run forever" but it only lasted to the next up hill section. Round the corner, the world starting going black round the edges and a geezer in robes with scythe decoration kept crossing my path. I wonder at what point it all stops hurting quite so badly. This isn't my first marathon but my overriding memory of the last one was the crippling stomach aches and need for a loo when running more than anything else. I don't remember this pain. Perhaps it is my age. The last marathon was in my mid twenties rather than thundering towards THE milestone.

Total Milometer: 13 miles

In the beginning

Welcome to our space!

I’m training for my first marathon. Not just any marathon. The Singapore Marathon. Why do a marathon in London when you can travel to a hot humid country where it is illegal to chew gum?

Like all good ideas, it all started as a conversation held in a pub, which I think started along the lines of “I bet you can’t”. Obviously I bet I could and a glorious plan was born.

The logic for choosing Singapore is 3 fold:
1) My friend who I’m running with has a brother who lives in Singapore so accommodation will be cheap or free (but may involve sofas and bits of floor).
2) Neither of us has been to Singapore before and
3) we also figure we can take a look at Malaysia while we are there.

We wanted to do a marathon because we’ve both turned into puddings in the last 2 years. Sarah, my friend has a beer baby called Bernard, and I have am well into my 3rd trimester of Fried Chicken Bump. So hence the need to slim down, firm up and generally stop sitting about in pubs talking rubbish. So we have been forcing our prodigious guts into lycra and pounding the pavements of South East London.

So hopefully I’m going to chart my progress on the glorious internet, at least until I can’t be bothered any more or am blacking out too much to turn on my computer.

I’m in the second week of training, and the runs are embarrassingly short. But I’m still feeling a sense of achievement that I haven’t given up yet. At the moment I’m suffering from having little energy to do anything other than limp round my 3 mile route and go home to bed. Sarah and I have named this the Pudding Shock Stage (PSS) as it’s obviously caused by our pudding bodies going into shock at being forced to work. Sarah has run a marathon before and I’m reliably informed that after PSS, comes PS (Poo Stage) which is significantly messier. This occurs when you are able to run far enough to send your body into a full on “every body out!” style panic which causes explosive diarrhoea. I’m told this involves a lot of trying to run with bottom cheeks clenched and lamenting the decline of public lavatories. I do love the idea of my body staging a dirty protest after being forced to run!

So far being utterly exhausted has kept me out of the pub, so I’m seeing some lifestyle change. However I have also started eating like a pregnant woman so I’m not convinced that the muffin top situation is going to improve in any great hurry.