Running at Christmas? Are you MAD?

(Did you find this on Twitter? Pls RT for me? Go on...I`m always RT`ing your stuff ;)  )




And so this is Christmas. It`s ok to eat and drink more. Add a few pounds. Skip the morning run.

That was my thinking, as I lay all cosy in bed this morning. Until I sorted myself out. I know--there`s nothing like a self righteous ex smoker to bore the pants off you, banging on about the benefits.Or a `fitness freak` trying to force you into a 5K. (A whaaat?)

I`ve never been a regular smoker (apart from the school- uniformed, More Menthol phase in the forest* ) so I can`t tell you how good it is to stop. But I have felt like a lardarse, and I don`t want that feeling ever again.

`All` you have to do, they say, is to eat less, and move more. If I`m in the right zone...I can train my brain to want less food. Way less. `Moving more` can be a challenge though, especially in the winter.

You need to want to do it. The duvet dreaming was fabulous. But it gave me time to realise I hadn`t done any useful exercise for days. These were my....

....ten good reasons not to run today:

1) It`s effing cold and windy out there.
2) You know you can`t run with the wind against you.
3) You`re a bloody crap runner.
4) You might die of a heart attack and plop into the swollen Severn.
5) No one will actually know whether you go running or not anyway.
6) It`s two days before Christmas. There`s stuff to do.
7) You can just eat fruit today.
8) You might twist your ankle and not be able to dance at the party, or even just pose in heels. 
9) Just swim more. You like swimming.
10) It`s so cosy here.

I fessed up on Twitter. And there was beautiful Annie (@mossofbath)...saying she`d just got back in from her run. ( A proper one.She`s well fit. Really.)

That was enough. I got dressed, tooled up with trainers, ipod belt, pink running jacket, shades and gloves..and hit the road. Randomly, ELO`s Hold on Tight blasted through my (furry, gorgeous) headphone speakers by way of a starting pistol, and I was off.

False start. Too fast. Here`s the thing, you see. I`m actually the world`s worst runner.Yes I DO get out on my #morningmile as often as I can. But then I stop and start, miss a couple of days, get out of puff, get distracted, give up, walk a bit, take a picture or two, chat to the neighbours, and realise I`m not really building up my mileometer at all.

So, I`ve decided that has to change. I need to be able to get out there and run for five miles, more, eventually, without stopping, and while sustaining a steady breathing pace. But it`s not going to happen without a bit more effort and self belief. So I stopped on the bridge over the flooded River Severn, took a picture for the hell of it, and carried on running. And told myself this stuff. So it`s to remind me, really. But if it helps you too, or even makes you scoff with derision, that`s OK, because I did it anyway.

Note to self: Ten damn good reasons why you need to run today:

1) It`s cold out, so you won`t get hot and sweaty.
2) You`ll feel fantastic when you get home.
3) Someone might have washed up while you`re out.
4) You can listen to loud music that no one else in the house will like (see above); sing it, loudly even, and nobody will complain.
5) You promised yourself when you were going for radiotherapy at lunchtime every day for three weeks, and saw a lady running along the Welshpool Road, that when it was all over, you`d do that too, to celebrate being well. She`s still running. C`mon. You promised .
6) Instead of finding excuses, think of the thousands who`d love to be `able` enough to wear trainers and use their legs.You`re bloody lucky. Get the hell out there.
7) Yes it`s only two days till Christmas, but you`re actually ready for it. Jamie (@jamierothwell on Twitter) says he`s *going postal* in Asda. You don`t have to.
8) The dress is size 12.  
9) You`re not going to die young like mum.You`re going to stick around, remember?
10) Yeh, it`s tough running against the wind. Hard and tough. But then you turn round , and the wind carries you home. You`ll feel it in the small of your back, giving you a gentle push, like a running mate.
11) `Shuffle` might land on `Rock Me Gently` by Andy Kim. You like that one.
12) Exercise boosts mental agility. You could learn to count.

OK...over to you. I`m serious. Running tips welcome!

(Oh and PS: That thing about smoking Menthol More in the woods, during double tennis? Scroll down and read `Teach Your Children Well....` Go on, please. I risked a bloody detention for that. Every bloody week, actually.)

Wake up and smell the coffee....

You know those mornings when you want to leap out of bed and grab the day with both hands?
No it doesn`t happen to me *that* often, either...but it did today.

After all that rain, including a veritable monsoon yesterday which made many a shoe squelch, sunbeams were curling round the curtains today and so my morning mile was just after 7 am.

It was already warm, as it bloody well should be in July, and as ever, the going was pretty slow (yes, coach, I know I shouldn`t attempt it on half a coffee and no tea the night before...) but it was gorgeous out there!

I stopped on the bridge which crosses the Severn and took this. And I`m so energised now, I`m going to have a shower, sit down, and write.

Whatever the weather...hope your day is fab.

Scanties in the pantry...sort of

I`ve just been on a brisk two mile walk through my kitchen. Well that was the plan.

In theory, it`s easy when you`ve got a treadmill in the corner. It`s great for rainy days, or those occasions when you can`t be arsed to get the full running kit on. It`s quite liberating, clocking up the kilometres in little more than your undies, without the risk of arrest, or hilarious laughter from passers by.

Anyway, it was while I was striding out past the fruit bowl, that I realised how grubby the bottom of the long kitchen curtains were. So I hopped off, slid them off the pole and shoved them in the washing machine.

And even though I`d only burned enough calories for three dry crackers and a slimmer`s soup, I didn`t get back on the mill. Too much to do.  If I`d been pounding (it`s actually little more than a shuffle) along on my morning mile, there`d have been no stopping me. No distractions, see?

But for the past few days, I`ve been unable to concentrate on anything for very long. Thought it might be the weather...you know...when there`s a `storm in the air`. Or too much coffee? Or maybe it`s in the genes. My late mum started knitting me a chocolate brown tank top in the early seventies and just couldn`t sit still long enough to get the damn thing finished. Never got it. (Probably for the best, in hindsight).

Anyway, I`ve concluded Twitter and my i-phone are to blame for my short attention span. (I`m now stopping to check which song mentioned `short little span of attention` . Know it? ) Twitter conversations are 140 characters long, tops. Information about anything, including song lyrics, is there at my fingertips. Nearly everyone I need to contact is right there, too, because, like me, they have a burning need to keep their phone in their pocket, or close by. If you`re impatient, like me, it`s perfect. And even though it`s Sunday, if I need food, a bottle of wine, or something to wear, I can just jump in the car and get it.

Is that a good thing?

While our house is wired to the world to suit  this frenetic pace of life, there are still reminders of the relaxed and rustic life the Edwards family lived after building this place in 1928. We`ve seen photographs of three generations under one roof before we`d added a room here and there; showing children feeding the chickens by the back door (and no treadmill in sight). And a pigsty, half way down the garden, now completely overgrown.

Not sure I could`ve waited that long for bacon buttie, but I guess, once the sty`s residents had been er...processed...the results were well worth waiting for.

How about you? Loving life in the fast lane? Or relishing those moments when you can just slow right down?

If you`ve read this far without getting as distracted as I do, by the way...thankyou!

Have a good day

@janemcintyre12 on Twitter  (please RT for me? Thanks!)

Don`t mess with my Toot Toot...

.......but feel free to mess with yours...especially if you`re driving behind me while I`m out running and you just fancy er...parping your horn.

Back in the eighties you`d have seen me swing round with a roar and a rude gesture. But today--out in the sunshine, and now that my furious and feisty feminist past has mellowed...I`m grateful for all the toots I can get, frankly.

Of course,the lorry driver might have been alerting me to his presence, in case I fancied leaping into his path. Pah. I do, often get it wrong.

Only moments before, I`d turned from the lane where I live into what we call `the secret path`. It runs between the lane and the main road, and is narrow with overgrown trees and shrubbery each side, quite dark and tunnel like but lovely really. Anyway,it runs alongside our neighbour`s garden.I usually stride up the lane to warm up a bit, trot up the path, and start running when I hit the main road.

Today I was stopped in my tracks by the sight of Fred. That`s not his name, but I`d like to conceal his identity. Fred was sitting in the middle of the (narrow, remember...and dark) path, on a fine, ladder backed kitchen chair. `Lost the plot`, he said. Not sure whether to empathise enthusiastically....or turn back and tactfully pretend I hadn`t seen him, I tried a `pardon?`. `WATCH THE POT!`;he repeated, pointing to the tub of paint he was using to touch up his fence.

See what I mean about getting the wrong end of the stick? I`d finally got to the end of my route (really not far...but further than yesterday) when I noticed two of the village`s..um...elder statesmen, standing at the end of a driveway.`You ant come farrrr`, said one. I told him I`d only just started running again..and this was my morning mile. At which point they both chortled...and started reminiscing about the last time they could `go a mile in the morrrrrrrrrnin`.

Ahh. Village life. Double entendres. Happy running....!

Pine cones and Metro maps

I`ve awarded myself the Order of the Pine Cone this morning. My morning runs are still slow, and short, but I`m getting there. And instead of leaping over the carpet of cones in my path today, I picked one up. OK, a bit like a trophy. I`d made it to the end of my village without the use of a defibrillator. And I threw it in a basket full of the little beauties when I got home.

Most are from a twenty footer in the garden, which started life as your standard festive, fairylit affair. On the 13th day of Christmas...my true love said to me...`fetch a shovel,love; this might take root`.

Anyway, we planted it; and it`s now massive. It rains a few cones down from time to time to show how well it`s doing.Others are from walks and places visited . No idea what my fascination with them is...but I`m going to collect one every time I run.

Oh..and the Metro map? I strapped it to the front of my diary with a high tech elastic band in murky, mizzly January; longing for freedom, and Paris in the springtime.

One`s now sorted; one`s so close I can smell the boulangerie. Simple rewards; effective incentives.Want to know your best route from La Fourche to Michel Bizot? I`m your girl. And if I see the odd Parisian pine cone while I`m there; I`ll nab one of those too: as a memento and a symbol of mission accomplished.