Out of excuses

Yep, my orthotics were here but my will power wasn't. I've driven round with my gym kit in the boot for a week and a half and the most exercise I've done is two 40 minute walks. Ah well. I don't normally start training till December anyway. But secretly I'm scared that without a marathon hanging over me I'll Never Run Again.

Must set myself a difficult time goal for the Alloa half to inspire me, and record it here so I can't wuss out...Let's see. How about [checks past blogs for previous half marathon times] ... 1 hour 40? That's what I would hope for just before running a (mythical) 3 hour 45 minute marathon. We'll see.

Very busy at work at the moment. Looking forward to next week's holiday - even if there's no surf I'm just going to sleep and read and be warm and not work.

Orthotic dependency

Left my orthotics in Edinburgh last week which meant no exercise for me, as I've long since discarded the normal inner sole of my multiple pairs of trainers. Luckily Al brought them back for me this weekend and I was fully intending to go to the gym after work today. But then I ended up working till 6 and hurried home to my beloved instead. Except he wasn't there because he had to stay in Edinburgh and fix a server. Boo.

Gym tomorrow lunchtime it is then, though that may not leave me any time to buy food for the week as I have to hurry home for Dougal's obedience class...Took the Dougal Dog to agility yesterday and got out of breath hopping over a tiny jump with him. Pathetic. He loved it, but it's a big time commitment when we don't really have a routine. We'll see how it goes.

Monday gym

Gym after work (even though it was dark and I wanted to go home and hibernate):

• 0.5 miles cross trainer
• 1.5 miles treadmill, incline 2%, 6.1 mph
• 1 rep of 10 for each of three grips on seated back, weights set at 5
• 3 reps of 10 shoulder press, weights set at 2 (pathetic)
• 3 reps of 10 tripcep kickback, weights set at 5
• 2 reps of 10 for each of two grips lateral pull down, weights set at 7 (not pathetic)
• 1 mile treadmill, as before

Not going to bother with the lunch time class again tomorrow. Will try and find proper pilates or yoga instead.

101 posts

Didn't realise until today but that last post was my 100th. A milestone and, hopefully, impetus to get me to carry on blogging.

Just a quick update today. Did I say I'd taken the decision to run the Alloa half marathon in March? So training for that starts now. Went to the gym last week, first for a lunch time class that was supposed to be pilates and toning. But when I got there they'd changed it to aerobics. Which was fine, but I really wanted some core strength conditioning to complement my running. I didn't particularly need a workout. Shame, because that means there are no pilates classes at all either at lunch time or after work. Maybe I can find an after work one at another gym or hall.

Went back on Thursday for a gym session, doing five minutes on the cross trainer followed by two 1 mile runs at 2% incline and 6mph. In between the miles I went and played with all the weight machines to try and remember how they worked and what level of weights was feasible. I decided to try and do regular work on the back machine, lateral pull down, triceps and shoulder press. All good for the surfing. A week in Fueteventura is now booked so I need all the practice I can get.

Spent yesterday and today helping Fi and Ailsa move, so I can add some heavy lifting to the list. Their new place is gorgeous already, and I can't wait to see it when decorating is finished.

In other news, some plants I ordered online ages ago finally arrived and I've planted up two big tubs: one with heathers and an acer and one with lavender and rosemary. Round the back, in the bed my mum dug over when she came to stay, I've put hollyhocks, delphiniums and dwarf lupins. Round the front I cleared as much gravel as I could from the bed by the door and topped it up with compost to make a mini raised bed and put in scabiosa perfecta, delphiniums and a couple of left over lavender. I've planted a few smaller pots with daffs and tulip bulbs but still have loads left so will stalk the garden tomorrow night looking for appropriate places to bury them.

I've recorded all this here in case I forget what I put where. Plus, if my running goes to pot (no pun intended) I can always record the progress of my plants.

Doggy run

Well, not quite as long a break as last time. Went for a run after work in the glorious autumnal evening air, and took the Diggler along. He was very good, coming back when called and pausing only briefly to play with a jack russell. He was knackered afterwards as Al had walked him already during the day and yesterday we went up the hill for a 'short' walk that turned into two hours (lovely though) during which Dougal ran non-stop. Afterwards he fell fast asleep on the sofa and refused to play with me, even though he'd woken me up that very morning when I wanted to lie in and refused to let me get back to sleep. He is very selfish.

Ailsa is right: running does banish bad moods and even my pathetic half hour tonight helped to lessen my frustration at a bunch of councillors who don't really understand what branding is or what they want from it. After spending months defending this county from accusations of provincialism, I really felt it was small minded and unprofessional for politicians to look at the research I'd done and say 'Well maybe everyone else thinks that, but I think we should just do what I want, even though there's no evidence to back it up whatsoever.' Very provincial.

I'm getting annoyed again so I will move on.

Here's a list of books I stole from Fi's blog. She can tell you all about it, but I've changed it so the ones I've read are in bold. Like her, I've changed the last two.

1. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2. The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3. Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4. Harry Potter series - JK Rowling - have read less than half of the series so that doesn't count
5. To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6. The Bible - only a few bits. The Book of Ruth. Stuff like that.
7. Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8. Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9. His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman (much better than Harry Potter)
10. Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11. Little Women - Louisa May Alcott
12. Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13. Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14. Complete work of Shakespere - again, less than half
15. Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16. The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17. Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18. Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19. The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger (loved it, even though I put off reading it for ages because I was afraid it wouldn't live up to the hype).
20. Middlemarch - George Eliot
21. Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22. The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald - hmm, must put that on my reading list
23. Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24. War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy - but it took me two years and by the time I got to the end I'd forgotten what happened at the beginning
25. The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26. Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27. Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28. Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29. Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30. The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31. Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32. David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33. Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34. Emma - Jane Austen
35. Persuasion - Jane Austen
36. The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini - but I read the next one he wrote
37. Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
38. Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
39. Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
40. Animal Farm - George Orwell
41. The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
42. One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
43. A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
44. The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins - I've never heard of this. Is it famous?
45. Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
46. Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy.
47. The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
48. Lord of the Flies - William Golding
49. Atonement - Ian McEwan
50. Life of Pi - Yann Martel
51. Dune - Frank Herbert
52. Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons - saw the tv series though
53. Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
54. A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth - pretty sure I did read this ages ago
55. The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
56. A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
57. Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
58. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
59. Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
60. Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
61. Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
62. The Secret History - Donna Tartt
63. The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
64. Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
65. On The Road - Jack Kerouac
66. Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
67. Bridget Jones's Diary - Helen Fielding
68. Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdi
69. Moby Dick - Herman Melville
70. Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
71. Dracula - Bram Stoker
72. The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
73. Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
74. Ulysses - James Joyce - started it, never finished
75. The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
76. Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
77. Germinal - Emile Zola
78. Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
79. Possession - AS Byatt
80. A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
81. Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
82. The Color Purple - Alice Walker
83. The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
84. Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
85. A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
86. Charlotte’s Web - EB White
87. The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
88. Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
89. The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton - did actually borrow this from a friend at school, even though my mum banned Enid Blyton from house.
90. Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
91. The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
92. The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
93. Watership Down - Richard Adams
94. A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
95. A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
96. The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
97. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
98. Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
99. The Kraken Wakes - John Wyndham - there's a shocking derth of sci-fi on this list, unless you count Orwell and Huxley
100. The Koran - I bought a copy of this and have read bits of it. But I got bored because it was so similar to the Bible.

I make that 51% and a few good ideas for when I finish my current bedtime reading (Grazia magazine). No more Hardy though. Or The Da Vinci Code.

Sorry

Yes, sorry it's been nearly a month since my last blog. It's been a busy few weeks. I should really detail everything here, there's plenty of material, but I haven't really been in the mood for blogging recently. I don't know why.

In short, I went to Maastricht with Al for a long weekend, which was pleasant. Then we held our much-delayed housewarming party, which was fun. Plenty of people (and dogs) came along and we sheltered in the barn from showers, finishing with an excellent bonfire that didn't quite set the barn on fire.

Unfortunately while I was clearing up the next day I got stung by something (a bee I think). Didn't think much of it at the time but my hand swelled up overnight so on Monday I looked as though I was wearing an inflated washing up glove. This took a trip to the doctor, some antihystamine and nearly a week to go down again. At one point I had my hand up in a sling to help the swelling go down, which garnered a lot of sympathy until people realised I hadn't actually broken my arm. It also curtailed typing somewhat, which is another excuse for not blogging.

I had to leave cleaning the house post-party until it had gone down, which drove me crazy. I can't stand living in a dirty house and this was really filthy - everyone had been in and out in muddy boots so I was dying to get the mop out. (Not that I minded for party purposes: I expected a certain level of mess. I just hoped I'd be able to clean it up quickly afterwards.) However, I did buy a carpet washer, which was a stroke of genius, as the stupid design of the cottage means everyone walks through all the carpeted rooms and there's a distrincly stained path wearing in. The carpet washer made a real difference.

But I have to say I'm getting fed up of the cottage. Yes, I love the location and the space and being able to walk out of the door and up the hill. But I'm not convinced this makes up for it being so cold, dark, damp and hard to keep clean. I'm sitting here writing this wearing my down jacket indoors to stay warm. And this is only September.

Not sure what to do about this, as it took us ages to find the place, nearly caused me a nervous breakdown getting moved in and Al adores it. Emailing the landlord about the growing damp patch and looking into getting a cleaner are my first thoughts. It would be a shame not to last much longer than the housewarming!

What adverts reveal about society

Results are up for Coll and I was 33rd overall, or 6th female. About half way through the field, in other words, which is around my usual placing. Quite happy with that.

So, I was watching Top Gear last night. I think I've blogged before about Top Gear and how great it is, despite the fact that I know and care little about cars. In fact, the whole of Dave channel's output appeals to me and most of my pals. Which, considering it claims men aged 20-40 as their target demographic, says something about how they've misconceived what appeals to women aged 20-40. Or maybe something about me and my female friends. Who knows.

Anyway, I love Top Gear. It's great. But it's sponsored by Halfords, who have these little spots before and after the ads. And these spots enrage me. They really do. At first they just irritated me, but by last night I was about ready to stop watching Top Gear (which is, as we have established, great) just because of these enraging spots.

The problem is, they're just blatantly sexist and lazy in their stereotyping. I mean, I know these are just little sponsor bites and not full blown ads, but you think they would have put in some measure of creative thought. Even allowing for the target demographic.

Individually, they're just enough to mildly piss me off, but en masse they just add to the depressing drip drip drip of tiny assumptions made every day based on sex that all then add up together to contribute to nasty big assumptions that ruin women's lives. Possibly without them even noticing (which is even more depressing). In a typical spot, for example, a woman goes to Halfords to get her baby's car seat fitted. Not too bad. Then another women gets her ipod fitted up to the car stereo and indulges in a little flirty banter with the bloke over her taste in music. Slightly nausea-inducing. Then a bloke gets a new roof box fitted and shares an 'all blokes together' moment with the Halfords man relating to how much stuff his wife takes on holiday. That's enough! I'm enraged!

I think what really really annoys me about this last one is that it is too true to life - I've heard exactly that sort of conversation take place so many times.

Did I ever tell you about the time I took my shoes to be reheeled and was just in time to hear the Timpson's guy finish a conversation with his wife on his mobile? The guy hung up, turned to me, and said "All women should have their tongues cut out at birth."

Since I'm fond of my tongue, I asked to be served by someone else.

On the plus side (slightly) I also saw an ad last night that really made me sit up and think. It was for Huggies - the nappies. Nappies adverts are in the same category as those for oven cleaner and tampons and washing powder in that they are without exception boring, formulaic and almost impossible to tell the difference between. I mean, it's impossible to tell the difference between two ads for different oven cleaners. You can tell the difference between a tampon ad and an oven cleaner ad (just). They are also all products aimed largely at women.

So I was astounded by this Huggies ad, which featured a bloke carrying a baby into a hotel room. A rather retro hotel room at that - none of the unbelievably white shiny surroundings usually associated with these ads. Then the bloke goes to change the kid's nappy, laying him on a nappy mat on the bed - yes! A nappy mat! Not a basket full of feathers or a lawn covered in puppies or some other equally unbelievable surface. This ad was going for reality, big time.

And - this is the good bit - as soon as the guy pulls the nappy off a little bit, the baby sends pee shooting everywhere - all over the hotel room, up to the ceiling. It's exaggerated, of course, with the point being that Huggies are great at stopping leaks. But it's not that exaggerated. Babies do pee all over the place. So here was an advert that:

a) acknowledged that men sometimes change nappies;
b) acknowledged that sometimes nappy changing takes place outside of pristine home surroundings;
c) acknowledged that nappies are messy and babies pee everywhere.

Wow. I couldn't decide if I should be excited that society had taken the great leap forward into commissioning such a revolutionary advert or depressed (again) that it should come as such a surprise, in 2008, to come come across a product that acknowledges reality.

Who knows?

Coll half marathon

Got back from Coll last night after a great trip. We drove to Oban on Friday night, stayed in the van and got the 7am ferry. Colin and Helen accompanied us and were of good cheer. I was knackered after the night in the van and the previous night having been spent getting up to let Dougal out as he was whinging for a poo and then cleaning up after him as he ate a frog and spat foam everywhere. But we were cheered by the sight of Seonaid and the boys and hurried to the Community Hall to sign in.

The race began at 3pm - a great atmosphere and very friendly. There were about 70 people doing the half, and they set off at a hell of a pace. We quickly became strung out along the route and I settled behind a woman pushing a pushchair (yes, really - she was speedy!) and a woman in a turquoise top. Al stuck with me for three miles, annoying me by constantly asking about our pace. I think if you want to know your pace when you run you should make your own measurement arrangements! Luckily after mile 3 he dropped back. I was starting to enjoy myself on the undulating hills - just up and down enough to maintain interest. The head wind was a bit off putting but at least it was cool and I consoled myself with the thought that Alex had said it was all downhill and with the wind behind you for the second half.

The miles were also speeding by, and I suspected (rightly as it turned out) that they were measured short - there was no way I was doing sub-eight minute miles. At half way there was a mile off road on a compacted path through sand dunes, and as I emerged from this I realised that Alex had been lying and there was a good deal more undulation to go. With tired legs it seemed less interesting, and it also started to rain. Just past Seonaid's water stop the rain set in proper and the wind came round again to be head on. The last three miles were a real slog, with mile 12 being all uphill and into the wind. Al had disappeared from behind me but a woman in a pink top crept up! I was damned if I was going to let a place slip, so put on a spurt and distanced myself from her, managing to overtake Turquoise Woman in the process. But Turquoise deservedly regained her place on the last hill, where it was all I could do not to walk.

Finally the line appeared and I clocked under 1 hour 57: better than I expected at the start, though not as good as I might have hoped at around mile 6! Averages a fraction under nine minute miles, so that's not bad considering the lack of training. The best thing was the friendly atmosphere, encouraging water stops and great scenery. Al and Ailsa appeared within a few minutes and we headed back to the house for much needed warm showers and food. Helen had finished her 10k in under and hour, while Colin had achieved an annoyingly speedy 5th (I think) place.

Great ceilidh in the hall that night, though we weren't really up for much dancing. I did, however, allow Archie to take me on a turn around the floor. (Archie was loving having Helen around and she spent much of the weekend in Archie World. Al too, at one point, acknowledged that the van may indeed be a spaceship, Dougal's tether a dinosaur snare and Dougal's collar his magic dinosaur-shape-shifting-device.)

Al is much taken with Coll, especially given it is less touristy and a closer community than Tiree, where he's been before. He is already planning return trips and asking me when I can get a job there. Dougal, too, had a good time with beach walks and, in labradoodle Tally, he finally found a dog willing to play with him. They spent a good hour on Saturday chasing after each other.

Sunday was spent pottering around the island: we'd hoped for a surf but made do with driving Norman off road. No results for the race posted yet, but I hope to have made it in the top ten women. If not, then there's always next year!

Things to do when I retire

I have been crap at keeping this blog anywhere near up to date since getting the new job...mostly because work doesn't allow access to blogspot and the last thing I want to do having escaped from the computer terminal at the end of a working day is to sit down at one again at home.

I think blogging may have to be added to my 'things to do when I retire' list. It's only a mental list, although, actually, I'm about to type it up so it will be made flesh: pixelled into life.

Ahem:

List of Things to Do When I Retire

1. Blog more.
2. Play musical instruments/sing.
3. Join posh exclusive health club and spend my days in the jacuzzi gossiping with Cheeseboarders while being served herbal tea by buff young personal trainers.

That's it so far, but I'm already looking forward to retirement mightily.

Did my longest run on Sunday, about 9.5 miles. The first 4 miles were with Dougal, and then I did a second, longer loop after dropping him back home. He is still loving it. I hated the tough hill I set myself at the beginning of loop 2, which forced me to walk for a minute, but the rest was fine. Not really sure of distances so it's hard to say how fast I was going. Who knows how Coll will be on the back of this rather erratic training, especially as Ailsa is now scaring me with mentions of possible hilliness. Ah well.

Now Dougal and AL are just back from Aviemore and I must desist on the blogging front to greet them properly. Dougal has definitely grown - he used to fit on my lap while I typed but is now getting mightily in the way of the keyboard and also investigating the desk for crumbs and - AARGH! LICKING ME IN THE MOUTH WITH DOG FOOD BREATH!

Yuch. Time to go.

Walking and running

After finally taking the decision to enter the Coll half marathon, I decided I had better do some training. Having done bugger all since the couple of three mile jogs back in June, the prospect of 13.1 miles was daunting. I decided that, with five weeks to go, I'd try and cover a hundred miles in preparation.

Then I realised that it was a week earlier than I thought and I would be away walking the West Highland Way for a week, giving me three weeks prep time. So I decided to just do what I could.

I started with a few gym sessions, finding it pathetically hard to maintain 6 mph. Shortly before leaving Dougal with my generously dog sitting parents I did a three and a half mile circuit of Gartmorn Dam, bringing my total mileage up to 23.5 miles. Then came the walk, which was not as tough as I had expected in an up and down type way but still covered a lot of ground. My muscles, I have to say, barely complained at all. But the way runs along old drovers roads, well cobbled in the time and with a severe camber, which left me with rather sore feet from the hard pounding. Worth it for the scenery though.


Altogether we covered 75 miles in five days, but I couldn't count it as training: bitter experience has taught me that walking fit is not the same as running fit. So after an all too brief reunion with my parents (and tales of naughty but cute doggy antics) it was back to work.


I did six miles round Gartmorn on Friday in 55 minutes, pausing only to challenge the ned kid who tried to trip me up to a race (he lost, but then, he was about eight and overweight). Then in a rare burst of sunshine, we headed down to Yellowcraigs beach on Sunday. While Al and mate Pete went fishing I headed off down the John Muir path. I'd last covered bits of this coastal route on a long training run pre-marathon, taking it from Leith to Cockenzie and back. I now picked it up at Yellowcraigs and ran the four miles in to North Berwick and out the other side and back, making it eight miles. Was pretty pleased with this, my longest run so far, and with a few small hills to keep my interest. Also lots of gorgeous houses overlooking the golf course to the sea. Mostly tarmac, but some grass, a patch of woodland and lots and lots of boggy sections. The path skirts the golf course, which was closed due to flooding, and cuts across a ploughed field, at which point I cursed the fact that I only had my road trainers with me - they are just about dry now, three days later.


Hormones got the better of me for the beginning of this week, meaning I spent Monday night curled up in front of the tv and yesterday, by a supreme effort, managed just 5.5 miles on the treadmill. I'd been hoping for at least 6, but it was not to be. I did, however, complete a few minute bursts at 7 mph. Today I took Dougal with me on a 3.5 mile loop round Dollar. It was my first run with him and he loved it. Still very muddy out, though less so now that we have returned with most of the mud adhering to one or other of us. I let him off the lead on the off road stretches and kept him on in between - my running was faster with him on the lead because he was pulling forward at such a rate!


So now up to a total of 46.5 miles with nine days to go. Hopefully I can make it up to 70 or so, which should be respectable. As long as I get a 10-11 miler in at some point I'm happy to run the half knowing I should get round in one piece.

Dog walk

Al headed off for a weekend of sea kayaking today, so I came home at lunch time to let Dougal out. The poor pooch had pretty much spent all day home alone by the time I finished work though, so I didn't have the heart to shut him in again while I went for a run (I'm waiting until I can buy a proper running dog lead before running with him, as I fear he is too bouncy to run on the regular extendable lead without entangling us irreparably).

Instead, we had a lovely walk together. It must have been nearly four miles out along the back road but cutting back to the railway from the far side of Dollar. He did some heel work, which he clearly finds tiresome but has to learn so he won't get run over in the city, and had a good romp off the lead on the railway.* There some pools of water covered in dense green weed tempted him with their apparently firm surface and he fell through the weed into the water not once but twice - a very surprised pup.

I read somewhere once that walking uses a particular butt muscle not used in running, so it will be no great hardship to have to run and walk for the next few weeks. I can use the running to get fit and the walking to procure/maintain a perky posterior. A plan with no drawbacks.

Oh, and the big field at opposite us which was previous full of grass about the same height as me has been trimmed right down, so Dougal did mad big circular dashes all over it. He spotted a black lab that he thought was his friend Jake and was very disappointed when it wasn't. We were both knackered and hungry upon our return and, while having sated the hunger with pasta, I'm now even more knackered after dismantling the guest bed (which was too small for the mattress and held together with extra planks on a broken side) and getting the Ikea boxes for the new one in from the van. I'm leaving the remantling till tomorrow.

* This is a defunct railway track now used as a walk. I wouldn't let him run around in front of actual trains or anything.

Nedding

I can't do justice to it, I really can't. So just the highlights:

• Seeing the girls head off to the registry office in a state of high excitement and return (about 30 seconds later) officially nedded: it brought a tear to my eye (in a good way).
• The first sight of the secret location, the glorious Ardanaiseig Hotel, and Fi's particular excitement at showing us all to our specially selected rooms (ours chosen for the short bed (as Official Shortest Couple) and fabulous freestanding bath).
• Trying out the bath - mmm, hot water!
• Seeing the boys draw up in their Inspector Morse car.
• Walking into a timewarp before dinner when everyone had dressed up beautifully for the 1920s theme and the venue was perfect for it.
• Venison.
• Poker with a professional dealer.
• Music and dancing and Fi and Ailsa looking really happy.
• Messing about quietly with arty stuff in a comfy yurt.
• Swimming in the loch, thinking all swimming should be done in fresh water, under the open sky.
• Lying on short grass in warm sun.
• Talking to Archie about dinosaurs.
  
• Feeling pretty in my hippy dress.
  
• Steak.
• Ceilidhing with Simon and Morag like old times.
• Al winning the Fantastic Prize.
• Mulling it all over with the cheeseboard on the way home.

That's quite a lot of highlights. And the bits in between were great too. It really was lovely to see Simon, as well as others old and new faces. It was the perfect location not only for our own brand of crazy competitiveness but also for all the party, young and less young, to keep entertained.

Can't wait to run another Mouse Race next year! I'm already planning on asking the neighbours if we can borrow their tennis court and wondering if you're allowed to swim in Gartmorn Dam.

Back down to earth: Fi's sister caught me in a weakened hungover state and signed me up for the Coll half marathon in (gulp) five weeks. I'm going to try and run 100 miles before then: averaging 20 miles a week. So far I have done two gym trips, one 4 miles and one 4 and a half, at just quicker than 6 mph. It was horrendous: so depressing that what would have been a mild warm up three months ago is now a real workout. But if all else fails I can do the 5km race instead.

Friendly weekends and a political rant

Long time no blog, what with two delightful weekends full of friends to keep me busy.

First there was the long-awaited hag do for Fiona and Ailsa: a fantastic event over three days organised with precision by Barry, Colin, Hils and Helen. There was a meal in the intimacy of a private room at Channings, where we could get all loud and annoying without worrying that we were bothering other people. Then on Saturday were split into two teams (I was on Fi's) and set on a series of challenges including golf, cryptic clues, rounders, tug of war, a beer mat collecting exercise and cheese and wine tasting. I was mediocre at all of these but nevertheless our team triumphed overall.

That evening we had a two round poker tournament, playing for actual money: £10 in the pot from each of 14 of us made it a prize worth winning and really very exciting. I made it to the second round on the back of extreme luck, including being dealt a natural full house, but Barry proceeded to amass a heap of chips so huge you could barely see his eyebrows. I went all in on the last hand - three threes - and won most of Al's stash (he claims, in the misguided belief that I would have done likewise, that he 'donated' them to me knowing I had the better hand) but even that was not enough to overcome Barry's hoard and he was declared a worthy winner.

Humph.

Sunday found us at the Sheep's Heid in Duddingston, a pub I've been meaning to go to for years but never got around to. It claims to be the oldest pub in Edinburgh, with a tavern on the site for the last squillion years, and boasts an old-fashioned skittles alley. To be honest I was hoping for a little non-competitive, genteel, ad hoc skittle action, but being us we once again organised into teams. Luckily a round of sausage sandwiches from the pub barbecue revived us enough to not lose every single round, but not enough to deny Ailsa the chance to claim a victory.

Last weekend Mo and Ray came up to visit, seeing the cottage for the first time. It is, at least, just about habitable for visitors now, though we still need a new spare bed. The current one is nailed together with planks and the mattress is too big and hangs over the edge. I have booked Al in for a trip to Ikea before my mum arrives. Anyway, Morag and Ray were most patient with it, and apart from the study, which still looks as a bit empty and seems to get covered in muddy paw prints as fast as I can hoover them up, the rest of the place cleaned up nicely after a two hour frenzy with the vacuum and duster.

We'd planned to do very little and enjoyed a leisurely lunch followed by a two and a half hour walk along the back roads to Tillicoultry, where ice creams were purchased, and back along the railway. It was the first time Al had done this route, which is familiar to me from running. It's a lovely walk with hardly any roads and Dougal loved it, romping happily with passing hounds. Back home he summoned just enough energy to eat his dinner before curling up on my lap and sleeping - the first time we've managed to tire him out!

I made a lasagna while Morag and Ray erected a massive Leaning Tower of Cake from the sponges I'd made earlier. Well, Morag mostly made it while Ray provided helpful comments, took photos and prevented Dougal from eating things. The shelves inside the oven have slipped so cakes come out a bit squinty, but my assistants managed to match the layers of sponge beautifully. Held together with whipped cream and an entire punnet of strawberries, it was a sight to behold.

After the previous weekend, Al had the poker bug and we had requested that our guests bring cards and chips. Fortified by cake and whisky, we pokered away until Al had won everything and then we went to bed.

I dragged myself up at 9.30 to let Dougal out. Having done so, I went to the loo and returned to the kitchen to find Al letting a rather confused Dougal out again. He (Al, not Dougal) had mistaken a pile of duvet for my sleeping form and was sleepily surprised to find me downstairs as well as still in bed.

While not exactly sunny, the weather was at least making some attempt at warmth and we spent a pleasant morning in and around the hammock with the papers before tootling off to find a pub for lunch. We tried to track down one in Powmill, which Al's parents had recommended, but we couldn't find it and returned to the Muckhart Inn instead. Al and I were on the bike, so Mo and Ray headed home after lunch and we motored back to the hound and more hammock time.

I took another look at my courgettes. They still haven't grown, even though I've watered them and been stung by nettles weeding them. Expert opinion (ie my mum) suggests that they are now goners. How ungrateful of them. At least my herbs are making a brave showing, proving that I am not a complete plant Jonah. The basil is even recognisable as basil already.

Back to work for a short week - Friday to be spent at a Secret Location for the non-wedding of the year. Took Dougal to the vet yesterday as he has an eye infection - probably from running through acres of eye-height grass. I was much more nervous than him. When the vet picked him up to put him on the table he thought he was getting a cuddle, and then he kept trying to lick the torch used to look in his eye. Now we have eye drops to administer, which takes a while as Dougal thinks they'd be much better taken orally.

Otherwise, I've been kept occupied following the Glasgow East by election. As Ray noted over the Sunday papers, the Sunday Times seems to be under the impression that the Tories could win this seat. Possibly their thinking goes: Labour not looking good, therefore Conservatives not looking bad. But I'm pretty sure that, in their desperate search for a way to show Gordon Brown where to stick his 10p tax band, the people of Glasgow East are not clinging to the legs of Tory politicians and pleading for forgiveness for the crime of never having voted for them before.

Oh no. I think the SNP will probably do quite well.

Especially if Labour keep coming out with stuff like this, from Labour minister David Cairns: "Councillor Mason [the SNP candidate] has finally let the cat out of the bag. He has admitted what we knew all along – he is a hard-line Nationalist who sees his role at Westminster to bring about independence."

Um, am I the only one who thinks that possibly the cat was never in the bag in the first place? That, in fact, the cat was sitting some distance away from the bag, sunning itself and opening flaunting a yellow SNP badge? Hello - it's called the 'Scottish National Party'. The clue is in the name.

Now I don't support Scottish nationalism (yet). I'm not quite convinced it's in Scotland's interests to go it alone, or that the rest of the UK will ever let go of all that lovely oil that Alex's relying on. But I do support democracy. And if the people of Scotland vote for an independent Scotland then that is what they should get.

David Cairns seems to think that if you support nationalism, you shouldn't be allowed to express that support democratically by electing someone to bring about such a state of affairs by peaceful political means. He's out of touch if he thinks that wanting an independent Scotland makes Mason an unacceptable representative to most Scots.

Quite apart from the fact that independence is not, north of the border, viewed with the antipathy it is in London, the SNP has managed over the last year and a bit to establish itself as more than a one issue party. I didn't want to like them. But they keep doing things I agree with.

I want Labour to win Glasgow East because I want Gordon Brown to stay prime minister. So my advice to Margaret Curran (who seems a lot more on the ball and is a proper Weegie to boot) is to ignore Cairns. Don't try and denigrate the SNP for being what they are, when what they are is popular. Instead, Labour might do well to consider why they're not so popular themselves right now.

Busy evenings

Been unusually busy through the week with a delightful last minute dinner at Holly Cottage on Monday so Al could get his massage as he is a guinea pig for Fi. Of course he was late and as usual took 20 minutes to get ready so I drove like a demon until we got stuck behind a tow truck and had to crawl anyway. I was berating him the other day for his inability to leave the house in under half an hour and he pointed out that he often manages to leave very quickly...but then has to go back again for whatever he's forgotten. How hard can it be - it's not like he has to brush his hair or anything.

I suppose everyone has to have one annoying habit. Callum always leaves empty packets in the cupboards and fridge when he's taken the last of something, which drives Al crazy. I told him to think of the day when Cal leaves home and eventually opens his fridge to find nothing but empty packets taking up all the room.

Anyway, as soon as I walked through the door of HC I felt instantly relaxed, as is always the way, and was plied with wine and nibbles by Ailsa, followed by tasty roast (yes, Morag, I got your roast! Mwa ha ha!) Al too looked chilled out following his treatment. He is very complimentary of Fi's talents and has been persuaded to possibly go back to the doctor about his back, which is good.

Yesterday we'd invited the neighbours round as they'd had us over for drinks and had introduced Al to some cycling friends. We had a nice chat and some wine. they were amazed we had the fire on - 'But it's the middle of summer!' Oh yes, I am trying to avoid thinking about possible indoor temperatures come winter.

Tonight is a free night, phew. Then a public meeting for work tomorrow night and the hag weekend starts Friday.

Nice to have some time to myself but I am missing the jingle of little Dougal's collar as he potters around the house. We have turned into sickeningly doting dog owners. Gazing adoringly at Dougal and gently stroking his paw as he slept, Al announced that he loved him. I was slightly put out, pointing out that it had taken Al nine months to say that he loved me, and only then after I'd said it first.

'Has Dougal ever told you he loves you, eh?'
'Ooh yes, he says that whenever he licks my ear.'
'That's not him saying he loves you. That's him trying to get you to regurgitate food for him.'

First surf for ages

I was about to write a moany blog about how I had finished all the chocolate buttons and fingers of fudge in Clackmannanshire and moved on to Crunchies and Cadbury's fruit and nut (which I have) while Ailsa keeps writing perky blogs about what lovely runs she's been on (which she has). Motivation keeps failing to raise its head for me. Despite nice-ish weather last night I put together half an Ikea chest instead of running.

But! I remembered that I had done some form of exercise after all - I went surfing on Sunday. Yep, first one since the crap session at Lunan on our hot tub long weekend in Angus back in January. It was a welcome hour's remarkably sunny interlude in a day otherwise spent hunting for lost keys of various types, (a tale with which I will not bore you, other than to say it was frustrating and climaxed in me shouting at a neighbour's child until he returned the roof-rack straps he had nicked from under my very nose! Tch, the youth of today...)

Back to the surf. It was at Pease Bay and it was good - long intervals and not too ginormous. Hard to get out due to complete lack of upper body fitness and I only caught one wave but it was just good to be bobbing up and down on the water again. Al pulled the muscle in his back he always pulls when surfing and I pulled my wrist as I always do when surfing - it was almost nostalgic after all those running injuries had made me forget the many other ways there are to crock myself. Al won though, by dropping a board on his head back in Leith while putting it away in the shed and getting a perfect fin-stick injury in the exact middle of his forehead - whilst dressed in full motorbike gear. For some reason he was not impressed by my observation that he should have kept the helmet on.

Where all my money goes

Today all my money was supposed to go on curtains, but instead it has gone on something even less exciting: contact lenses and glasses. Every two or three years I walk into an optician and spend half a month's wages on being able to see. Surely this isn't fair? Do deaf people have to pay for hearing aids? I suspect, like glasses, you can get the horrible cheap ones on the NHS if you're poor enough but have to shell out for anything half way decent.

Luckily my optician has cottoned on to the massive rip off that is eye care in the UK and set up a scheme where you pay £3 a month and get 20% off contacts, glasses and that contact lens bit of the sight test not covered for free (non-Scottish readers, note that regular eye tests are free up here! Yes, free I tell you! Not that you'd know from listening to the BBC). So I signed up for that and claimed my £13 from the NHS for being really, really blind. They don't give me an extra £13 for last year though, even though I didn't buy any lenses in 2007.

Even with all the discounts it still came to £400. Most of that, as always, was on the lenses to go in the glasses. I chose a plastic option that was slightly cheaper but they might be too thick, in which case I'll have to have glass for an extra £50. I could have got loads of curtains for that.

Afterwards, I took that black dress back to TKs and swapped it for a log basket. I may have to wear the log basket if I keep spending money on boring things. But at least I can accessorise it with beautiful glasses.*

I haven't done any exercise since the last blog, and have eaten vast amounts of chocolate buttons and fingers of fudge. I'm in Edinburgh tonight though, and once I'd thrown everything visibly mouldy out of Al's fridge there was only a pitta bread and some organic vegetable soup left, so I ate that and felt a bit healthier. I think it's time to get back to my usual summer eating of veggies and salad. Unfortunately, despite its many other fine attributes, the cottage is absolutely freezing in even the warmest weather, which doesn't encourage me to eat lettuce and the like.

Fi and Ailsa are coming for dinner tomorrow though and I'm quite excited about the dessert (which I have already made and left in the freezer - I hope it turns out ok) and a starter recipe I found for sweet potato, mozzarella and parma ham stacks. It will also be a chance for Dougal to meet his cousins Baffie and Bridie, who will probably at best ignore him.

*I have to admit they are nice glasses, with a hint of sexy secretary about them.

Summer break

Had an easy couple of weeks, dug a bit of garden, swung in the hammock with Dougal (nee Diesel), took Dougal for walks and met lots of new people and dogs. Al is astounded by the amount of female attention he gets when walking Dougal in town. He is just so cute! Dougal, that is. Well obviously Al is cute too. But not in the way that women run and and squeal and ask me if they can stroke him very often.

Anyway, the pooch and I had a hilarious walk down the Water of Leith where we met a rather boring man with a black lab; a friendly guy with another working cocker called Fergus (again, the dog, not the man); a scary looking, thick-necked but in fact quite friendly woman with a massive, thick-necked, but actually quite friendly rottweiler and a snooty thin woman with a saluki who looked down her nose and hurried past. Maybe it is true what they say about people being like their dogs. Callum and Dougal certainly hit it off. I think five months in dogs age must be about 11 for a human - they had a great weekend playing in the garden, building a den and a swing. Al banned the computer for the weekend though, and by Sunday Cal had had enough of the great outdoors and wanted his computer games back again. He is still a bit of a city boy.

Had a training course near York for three days this week, and it was pretty full on with the gorgeous sunny days spent closeted in a room with closed curtains looking at powerpoint presentations and doing emergency planning exercises. On the last day a BBC manager was invited to speak to us and spent an hour talking about how BBC local radio is the best place to get an emergency message out. When I pointed out that in Scotland we had to work with commercial radio because the BBC treats Scotland as one region and people in Glasgow don't care if Angus is flooded, she just said, 'Well, yes it obviously different in Scotland.'

I feel the Scottish chip on my shoulder growing with each trip to England these days. I like to think I started out prejudice-free and hope my feelings are based on experience rather than me having picked up a general Scottish malaise. I do hate the attitude that blames England for all of Scotland's woes: I think it's inaccurate and excuses apathy. But I've seen Scotland treated as an afterthought at best on all sorts of training courses and the like and it's getting irksome. The BBC has just promised to up its regional content in the news, anyway, so let's see if that helps remind people that it exists.

I'm feeling very relaxed about it all now, since I had the great foresight to book two days off and continue my journey south from York to see the parents in Sussex. Jenny is also here having just started work in Burgess Hill, and I awoke on Thursday morning to hear her snoring five minutes before she had to catch her 7am bus, so had to wake her up. She missed the bus but made the train thanks to a lift from mum...she moves to a room in Brighton tomorrow, which I hope will suit her.

Spent yesterday reading (feel like I haven't had time to read for ages) and shopping. Bought a very bling handbag for Sam, who I'm meeting briefly before my flight tomorrow for a birthday brunch. Also a back dress for myself, but I think I might take it back as it's a bit big. I have an opticians appointment in Edinburgh next week that I can combine with a trip to TK Maxx in Meadowbank. Today I was indulged in a belated birthday present of pedicure and back massage. My first ever pedicure! It was perfectly timed for my post-marathon feet, which the lovely lady did not even wince at, and we picked a dark red polish to cover the black nails!

Went for a run round the rhododendron-infested grounds of the conference centre one night before dinner on my course, and another round Broadbridge Heath and Warnham this morning. Just half an hour each and about three miles, which was just what I needed. It felt a bit sweaty in the humid weather but not particularly hard. Maybe I'll aim for an October half marathon. Or maybe I'll just keep going for shorter runs when I feel like it.

Done and dusted

Yep, it's all over. I got a bad cold just in time for the marathon, and it also effected my stomach (as almost everything seems to do since I got food poisoning about 3 months ago. I fear my days of cast-iron stomach are gone forever) so I was fairly sure there was no point going for a PB. Marathon day dawning with a strong headwind further convinced me and I decided to run alongside Al, to have someone to chat to and prevent him hailing a cab half way round.

Good job he was there as despite a solid start that had us on track for 4.30, about 10 miles in my stomach ceased playing ball and the rest of the run was spent making it from one loo to another. Saw some pretty bits of East Lothian from behind various bushes, though, which was nice...Al was very supportive when I was feeling shit (more from frustration at knowing how much training was going to waste) and strangely at the points where I was feeling better he was also struck down, so we made it round together. Luckily it turned into a lovely sunny day, and if you ignored the sweaty people around you, you could pretend it was just a nice coastal walk. At least the roads were closed to traffic, unlike the North Berwick run when I kept thinking I was about to be squished by a lorry.

The other thing that got me round (apart from Al) was the truly top level support from the crew. Time and again they drag themselves up at ridiculously early hours of the weekend to shout and wave at us for a few vital seconds. Fi also had her bike which meant she could keep a flagging Al's energy up with food supplies and distract us from our pain with chat. One good thing about going so slowly was that I could actually enjoy her company instead of saving all energy for forward propulsion. Another was that I wasn't stiff afterwards. Other than an amusing patch of sunburn on the one bit I had missed when applied sunblock I was in better shape than after any marathon yet.

Haven't actually checked my final time yet, but it was about 5.16. Hang on...Yep, 5.15.54 for both me and Al. Although obviously I still have the better PB of the two of us...

This was in fact a personal worst, which is something I suppose! Definitely giving myself next year off and maybe the year after that. The next race I'm thinking about is next year's Alloa half marathon. Catherine and Danny gave me a subscription to Runner's World magazine so that's been inspiring me. But only from my rocking chair so far.

Otherwise, I'm enjoying not having too much planned for a bit. I poked some plants in the garden today and pulled up some dock leaves. Think I might buy a trowel and some gloves and clear at least the patch that might once have been a flower bed. Surf looks ok too.

Much more exciting is the news of an additional to the family! No - not like that. A canine one. Al and I went to see a working cocker spaniel in nearby Braco and have arranged to pick him up on Monday! He's gorgeous, five months old and black and white. Apparently working cockers are the same breed as show cockers but a different strain, with a broader head, soft mouth, and easy-to-train temperament. This guy is called Diesel at the moment, which is a terrible name for him. It might suit a staffie or rottweiler but he's far too friendly. He'll be a surprise for Cal come Tuesday evening though, so it's up to Cal to christen him. So excited!

I'm back!

Internet access has reached Dollar! You just don't realise how much you rely on it until you have to do without. Although I don't think I'm as bad as Al who worked himself up into a frenzy trying to figure out how he would find out what time the bus went in to Alloa: with no access at the cottage he's have to go to an internet cafe. But the nearest internet cafe was in Alloa. Perhaps he could phone a friend and get them to check the times online for him...I let him sweat for a little before pointing out that he was standing next to a bus stop with the timetable printed on it.

Sooo...

Apparently my last blog was on 27 April when I ran 20 miles and all was well in world of running. Ha! I should have known that wouldn't last. There followed a week of absolutely no running that I can recall at all. I think I was manically busy at work and also moaning about and dreading my 22 mile race. Came very close to not bothering to do it at all, but I couldn't face the thought of explaining to everyone at my birthday party that I'd bottled it so I dragged myself off.

It actually went rather well. It started with a leg massage from Fi and a rousing send-off from Helen, Colin, Mo and Hils - I was frankly astounded that they'd bothered to get out of bed for what I was considering to be a training run, and yet more touched when they showed up half way round and then at the end as well. Conditions were good: cool and a little wind but nothing major. Shit, it's a long way, though. To the power station, which had been my 10 mile half way mark the week before, was only 9 miles from Meadowbank, so I still had 13 to go. A long slog up the hill to Gullane and a short slog up a hill to some other little village just before North Berwick. Most of it escapes me except the bit where I nearly just stopped and asked the nearest marshal to drive me to the end (Gullane - but then I had to keep going because a car full of cheeseboarders was cheering me on) and the final two miles which were much aided by the knowledge that it was nearly over.

According to the garmin it was 21.84 miles in 3 hours 7 mins and 47 secs. Average pace 8.35 miles. This is much pretty good. Though it would still mean running a last 4.2 miles in 37 minutes to make under 3.45, which I'm fairly sure is impossible. I was doing 11 minute miles at the end and had means of going any faster.

But I was pretty much on track and looking forward to almost certainly getting a PB at the Dunfermline half the next Saturday.

There was an intervening period to celebrate my birthday, which was done in great style. Luckily everyone was kind enough to bog off and left me alone for my much needed post-long-run nap which set me up in great style for an evening of drinking and chatting at my party. It was lovely: like going to a party where you know and like everyone. Which, in fact, it was. The girls had decorated the bar with fantastic 'wanted' posters and everyone dressed up, which was much appreciated. Nothing worse than a themed party where no one makes an effort. And various friends who hadn't met before intermingled happily, which is always nice.

And I got lots of fabulous presents! I won't bore you with them but suffice to say I spent all night and most of the next day telling people what fantastic taste my friends have and what tasteful presents I'd received.

A much needed and relaxing spa day was Sunday's treat, with plenty of gossip with the girls, playing with bubbles and a massage and scrub that left us zombiefied (in a good way). Finished off with a meal at a great gastro pub.

Sadly I was starting to feel a bit queasy at this point. I was cheered by arriving back at the cottage to yet more tasteful presents cunningly arranged by the generous (and sneaky) Fi and Ailsa in my absence - I was truly being spoiled! And had a peaceful walk in the hills in gorgeous sunshine with Al.

But most of the next week was spent holding the fort at work through various non-emergencies and near-emergencies that meant I pretty much had to be in, then coming home and going straight to bed. On the plus side, I'd been meaning to register with a doctor in Dollar so I got around to doing that and got an appointment on Friday. It's fair to say I was pretty desperate at this point. The doc was very nice and told me I probably had gastroenteritis (sp?), but did not offer the instant cure I was looking for. Instead I was told to go home, rest, drink lots of liquid and not run a half marathon that weekend. Which is what I had been doing anyway. What's the point of doctors if they can't hand you a magic pill that makes you feel better?

So that was the half marathon out, and with it my final indicator of what the hell sort of time I might expect in the Big One. Which brings me up to date, more or less.

I finally felt 100% again on Sunday, when I went to a really enjoyable concert with Al - the Waifs, who I last saw live at the Byron Bay Blues Festival, were playing at the Queens Hall, of all places. It was great! The audience was a real mix of Aussies, young hippies and older non-hippies. We were somewhere in the middle. Emily Barker was the singer-songwriter support act who performed with just her and her guitar and had a great voice. Then the Waifs themselves were just really cool: a great mix of folk, rock, country and blues-swing type stuff that's hard to describe but kept it varied and tuneful. I wanted nothing more than to be in the band, they looked like they were having so much fun. And the one woman (Vicky?) was an amazing harmonica player! I have tried to play the harmonica and it's much, much harder than you think. I was jealous.

Also, it sounds spoddy, but it was made all the more enjoyable by the fact that the mixing was good. Queens Hall has quite odd acoustics (when I was buying tickets the guy asked if I'd been before. I said yes. He asked where I wanted to sit. I realised I'd never actually been in the audience before, only played there with the Edinburgh Phil, and had to admit I had no idea. He thought I was stoopid). But the Waifs were set up so you could hear each instrument and vocalist perfectly, from the double bass to the drums to the annoyingly talented keyboard player. Having that balance right was essential.

On Monday I ran the back road to Tilli and back along the railway track, starting with the steep farm hill. Not too fast, didn't time it. Yesterday did the same again but the other way around and without the steep farm hill. Had to wait for some bullocks to cross the road. Both felt fine, but then I was simply plodding along. Bit stiff today, which is hardly a good sign after what should have been two standard mid week runs. The Ruth who did nine and a half Yassos at the gym three weeks ago seems more like three years ago, so remote does that level of achievement feel.

I have absolutely no idea what to expect of the marathon now. In some ways training has been better than last year: certainly more consistent speed work and the 22 miler showed promise. But, like last year, I've missed and essential two weeks' training just before taper point and there's nothing I can do to get that back. Plus, I have come to the conclusion that it is simply not realistic for woman to run a 3.45 marathon on less than five days' training a week. And I am not prepared to sacrifice the rest of my life to the point of sustaining that level of training for three, two or even just one month.

I like running, and I like being fit. But it shouldn't be a chore that you dread, that means you turn down nights out or a glass of wine or that is always dictating your meals and bedtime. This is what I keep telling myself.

I will see how the conditions are on the day. If there's a strong head wind, I'm not going to fight it. If I start well, I'll push for a good time. I'll be disappointed with a non-PB - just as I was last year - but, despite giving it some serious consideration, I'm not going to drop out. Because Ailsa would kill me.

A few more medium runs, maybe a short speed session, and that's me done.

Dog day

Got a run in yesterday to make up for missing Thursday's. It was post dress shopping and dog shopping, so I had lots of exciting things to think about as I trundled round the 7.2 mile route up Easter Road, round Arthur's Seat and back. Didn't time it and took it easy as I had my long run today.

Re dresses - top secret stuff (mine too I as I want it to be a surprise for Al: I have actually shown him a picture but he will have forgotten instantly so that's ok) but lovely fabrics and designs to play with. Went with a colour recommended by Fi which is not what I would normally pick but I think will be really different and quite 1920s-like.

Re dogs - Al, Cal and I went to the Edinburgh Dogs' Home for a reccy. Just to ask how it worked and what sort of dog they might recommend. Of course we then fell for one particular pooch - a wee collie cross called Shadow. Much heartrending debate later we decided to go back and see him again today, but it turns out the home is closed on Sundays so Al will have to go alone tomorrow and make the Big Decision. He was lovely - he looks like Santa's Little Helper form the Simpsons, only more black - but it's a 10 year commitment so we have to get it right.

So yesterday's run was fine. Didn't time it. Felt nauseous after getting home, showering and going to Tesco's, which was annoying. Thought I'd figured out how to stop these blood sugar drops, but I suppose a salmon wrap for lunch was not sufficient fuel. Had a oatcake and felt better almost immediately.

Today, had a very successful long run despite not looking forward to it at all. Did 20 miles in 2 hours 58 mins 31. Average of just over 8 mins 55 per mile. Which means I did 20 miles today faster than I did 19 miles last week. I think this is because:

• I prepared better food-wise, with vast amounts of lasagna and bread the night before and no booze, and vast amounts of porridge and banana in the morning. No wonder the original Greek bloke who ran the marathon died at the end - he was probably trying to run on nothing but feta and olives. It takes oats for a job like this.
  
• There was zero wind - hurrah!
• It was a faster route, being flatter and almost all tarmac.

It was hot though. There were people sunbathing on Portobello beach in bikinis! Despite wearing sunscreen I have still gone pink on my chest and arms.

Ran out past Portobello to Musselburgh and then kept on down the coast on the John Muir Way to Port Seton/Cockenzie power plant, then came back. Although I'm happy with the run compared to last week, it's still not putting me anywhere near 3.45 league. Looks like I might have to settle for a sub four hour at best. But at least I only have one more long run (ie race) next week before the marathon. Then my life will once again be my own!

Can't wait to find out about Shadow tomorrow. Must stay calm and objective...but it's hard!

Mid week runs

In brief, 6 mile recovery run round Gartmorn dam on Monday. Once 3 miles clockwise in 27 minutes and once anti-clockwise in 26 - negative split!

Wednesday: 8 miles on the back road to Tilli and back along the railway track. This took 1 hour and something - I think 8 mins 20 secondsish. Slower than I would have liked as I was aiming for 7.2 mph and took exactly an hour to do 7 miles, with a push on the last mile. It is quite hilly at the start though I suppose.

Thursday: was supposed to go to the gym but didn't.

Today: went to the gym and did:

• Cross trainer 6 mins, level 12, staying above 10 mets.
• Treadmill, 9 x 0.5 miles at 8 mph, with 0.15 miles at 4mph in between. Yassos 7 and 8 at 1.5% incline, Yasso 9 at 1%.
  
• 1 x 0.25 miles at 8 mph, 1%.
• 12 x 2 on each of three grips for back machine, two grips for chest press, all at 20 kg.
• Treadmill 1 mile at 6.5 mph, 2% incline.

Quite pleased with this considered my knackered state - especially making all the Yassos without extra breaks of any kind. Will try and make up for Thursday with a hill run tomorrow.

Dresses and long run

Met Fiona and Hilary yesterday for dress hunting. Good job they're in season, arf arf.

Yes, I have had a glass of wine.

Anyhoo...Discovered lovely fabrics for Fi and then went and tried on lots of dresses myself, forcing the other two to wait outside changing rooms and occasionally do up zips. Fi made me try on an burnt orange-coloured dress, which wasn't a great fit but the colour actually worked, which was a revelation. I now have an idea of what I'm after, having espied something on a website with an interesting back: having no boobs, it makes sense to accentuate the other side.

We then had a long lunch and talked about clothes 'for longer than we ever had before'. So overcome by our unusually girly chat* was I, that on popping in to Superdrug for contact lens solution I emerged with £20 of new make up.

Today I woke up, ate lots of toast, and went for a 19 mile run. Headed up the coast to Cramond, up the Almond to Cramond Brig and continued to the golf course on the way to Queensferry. Lovely day for it - to start with anyway. I'd left my cap in Dollar which meant, despite numerous hair clips, my hair kept getting in my face, which was annoying. The secondary purpose of my faithful headwear is to keep the my head warm (mostly) and the sun from my face (occasionally). Without it, I have definitely caught the sun. Just after I spent £6.99 on 'ivory 01' toned foundation - typical.

So, the first half was ok, though being 'off road' from Cramond onwards slowed me down, as did the steep step section, which I once swam round for the Rat Race. The last bit around the edge of the golf course saw the wind pick up and spray come right over the breakwater to soak me, which was refreshing. Then I turned around and was running into the wind. Not too bad through the trees and back to Cramond (hit the steps again at mile 13 and seriously considered taking a dip instead).

But back on the promenade from the roundabout on - Jesus! I've run that stretch plenty of times, sometimes in quite windy weather. There was a head wind for the half marathon at the same spot. But nothing like this. It didn't help that I was tired but it was like running uphill without the sense of achievement. It's hard to describe how debilitating a strong headwind can be. It saps your strength and your mental state: I felt like I was in one of those dreams where you have to be somewhere but your limbs are all heavy and you feel as though you're underwater and can't move.

I'd been on schedule for 2 hours 50 mins, but had to forget about the time and just get my head down and battle on. It was grim. Every so often the wind would die for ten seconds and my speed would lift, only to fall again at the next gust. So that was it all the way home. Managed a slight speed up for the last mile to finish in just under three hours, an average of 9.30 minute miles. Pathetic. If there's a wind like that on marathon day I'm doomed.

Am trying to be positive though. As well as the wind, had it all been on tarmac, I would probably have been quicker. But my right leg was showing some ITBS strain towards the end and is a bit sore now. That would probably have been worse if I'd been on roads the whole way. Was also a bit dehydrated despite drinking a whole bottle of lucozade on the way. Hmm. A lot will depend on the conditions on the day.

Half a mile from home a small child shouted that I was looking sexy with my something I didn't catch. What's that about? When I was eight I was scared of talking to adults I knew, let alone strangers, let alone shouting at them in the street. I briefly considered beating him to a bloody pulp but it seemed too much effort, plus I was pretty sure his comment had actually been a compliment. Probably a sarky one though, unless he was blind.

Got home, showered, ate two oatcakes, drank a litre water and slept for a hour. I'd been complaining to Al that surf is up and I don't have time to go. He said, 'Can't you go after running on Sunday?'. Aha. Ahahaha.

Nope. No, not really an option. I did manage to walk round the supermarket, but that was about the extent of it.

I've just had a dinner of Sainsbury's meatballs ('serves two') and potato croquettes ('serves two'). But then I didn't have lunch and had just used up 2,300 calories. Think I have some chocolate left somewhere...

*Yes, I am aware that talking about dresses is not exclusively the preserve of girls. There are gay men who are interested, too.

Better week's training

Much better this week. After spending most of the weekend asleep I felt recovered and started back up with a very slow 10km flat jog along the railway line to Tilli and back. Felt fine apart from hideous heartburn (the result of having started to eat again after a three day gap) and clouds of midges. Nice evening for it.

Tuesday I was supposed to do speedwork at the gym but forgot my trainers so came back to the cottage. Luckily as it turned out, since Fi and Ailsa dropped by to pick up Fi's bike and Ailsa got to see round the cottage (and use the loo). It was another nice evening so I headed along the back road to Tilli (the long way round with the farm hill at the beginning) and back along the railway track. Felt good to push a bit harder and I quite enjoyed the hills which are tough enough to feel a sense of achievement without being actually impossibly hard.


Had Wednesday off to see Cal's school musical, which was very professional. He had a lead role with a couple of songs and lots of costume changes. At one point he was up on stage and looking so much like Al that it was quite uncanny - knowing that Al would rather have red hot needles stuck in his eyes than ever get on stage again after his swing dance experience. Cal definitely takes after his mum in that respect!

Yesterday I got to the gym for speedwork - made myself go even though I went to Tesco's first and it would have been all too easy to turn the car for home instead. Not only did I manage to get myself through the door of the gym but also managed 9 whole Yassos - though I had to have a loo break after numbers 6 and 8. I also lowered the incline to 1.5% for numbers 7 and 8 and 1% for number 9, instead of my usual 2%.

Altogether, did:

• Cross trainer, 6 mins, staying above 10 mets
• Treadmill 9 x 0.5 miles at 8 mph with 0.15 mile breaks at 4 mph (plus a couple of brief extra breaks)
• 2 x 12 reps on each of 2 chest grips and 3 back grips, all at 20 kg
• Treadmill 0.5 miles at 7.2 mph (1% incline) and 0.5 miles at 6.5 mph (1% incline)

Fairly happy, though I would have liked to have managed the Yassos without extra breaks. Had to remind myself that when I started I could barely manage two in a row, so I have improved. But have I improved enough, is the question...

Today, drove back to Edinburgh and straight to Holyrood Park. Parked at the Palace car park and ran up the Radical Road the steep way - had to walk the very steepest bits, but for no more than two minutes, probably one minute. Then did one loop of Queen's Drive anti-clockwise and one clockwise and finished by running back up Radical Road the less steep way (no walking!). The whole thing took longer than I would have liked. It would have been great to have done it in an hour, but I think it was more like an hour and 10. Still, it definitely counts as the '1 hour hard hilly run' recommended on the official website for 'serious runners' at this stage. Not that I'm following that schedule - who the hell has time for six runs a week?

Long run scheduled for Sunday: should be 19 miles. I'm going to try and do some of the marathon route from Cramond out to Portobello. I have also booked myself a massage for a week on Sunday, which is a treat to look forward to. Though Fiona wants to practise her massage technique on me tomorrow, which is even better!

So I'm hopefully back on track but am going to have to work really hard for the next three weeks. I'll take the garmin on my long run and see if I can average somewhere around 8 minute 50 second miles.

Weighed myself tonight: 8 and a half stone, which is my official 'running weight'. I don't normally reach this weight till about three weeks before a marathon, when my mileage peaks. But then I was ill. And I have just eaten about three pounds of pizza and drunk a litre of water and juice, which should bring me up to par. I didn't take any water on my run so I'd probably sweated off about a pound of liquid too.

I have just discovered that if you mix half water with half apple juice (my regular tipple) but then add a few drops of lime juice it is really lovely and refreshing.

Another crap week's training...

It started out so well with an 8ish mile flat run on Monday to Tillicoultry and back - felt good and fast, though I wasn't able to measure it exactly as I'm still awaiting a new garmin charger. Followed up on Tuesday with a speed session at the gym:

• Cross trainer 6 mins, staying above 10 mets
• 8 and a half Yassos - felt not too hard, possibly because it is the week after my period, when training is easiest.
• 2 x 12 reps each of 3 back grips and 2 chest grips all at 20kg
• 1 mile at 6.5 mph

Then all went to shit. Went in to Edinburgh Wednesday night to catch up with Mo. We went to bodybalance, which was a nice stretch out (crowded class though). Mo told me she had just recovered from a nasty tummy bug, which she promptly infected me with. Either that or it was a dodgy sushi lunch pack from Tesco's.

So on Thursday I felt distinctly quesy driving home and was able to hold it together just long enough to deal with the heating engineer before retiring to bed with a bucket. Missed a beautiful evening for a run. Naturally, come daylight it appeared to have cleared up and I went to work, seeing as I had lots to do and it was the last day of a work experience student we've had in, who I had to assess. Got through the day, distracted myself briefly by hanging some curtains, and then collapsed in bed again for another vomitous night.

I'm now just about recovered, but have been walking about like a zombie all weekend and slept most of yesterday. No long run for me this weekend - I had to have a sit down after walking to the post office.

On a more cheerful note, met up with Fi and Hilary to discuss dresses and suchlike over a meal at an Italian fish restaurant that had a promisingly cosy atmosphere but disappointingly salty fish. It almost made up for it with stereotypically macho Italian waiters though. Good chat, and the girls were sympathetic about my plight. Felt slightly more human.

I am still not sure if I am justified in feeling sorry for myself at the moment, but I have been down: it feels as though neither of the two things I really wanted out of this year - a 3.45 marathon and a decent 30th birthday party - are going to be achieved. Just bad timing I suppose. It's not as if having a job or somewhere to live can really take second place to those. And most of my 'to do' list (currently standing at 39 items) no one else can do for me. Every time I finish one thing another appears: I arranged for my council tax to be taken directly from my pay, but when the bill arrived they hadn't taken off water and sewerage, even though we have a private water supply and septic, so now I have to call them again. And when I got a fridge freezer delivered the delivery guys broke a light so I had to organise an electrician, who didn't show up, so I had to organise him again...it's never ending.

I just want someone nice and reassuring (Super Nanny springs to mind) to come along and tell me it's okay, they'll sort it all out and all I have to do is go to work and concentrate on my running. Being a grown up sucks.