Tired today. My legs are a bit sore and tight and I feel like I could do with a nap BUT it's a different tired from how I've felt most of the year. It's a happy tired not a frustrated tired. And I'm happy because I had such a nice weekend.
It was our last Saturday long run before this weekend's Gold Coast marathon. And by long run I mean he shortest long run that a lot of the squad have done in months. There are about half a dozen marathon virgins going to toe the line on Sunday and I'm so excited to be there to cheer them on. We're going to be THE best dressed squad on the course wearing these -
I've come to terms with what will be my slowest ever Gold Coast 10k. I'm looking at it as a value-for-money run and I'm hoping to go sub-60 mins mostly because that's the corral that I've nominated for and I don't want to make a liar of myself.
So Saturday's long run was a 12k - which I managed in sub-6min pace. Looking good to beat my goal! It was followed by a squad breakfast. Lots of coffee, food and talking (because 12k isn't quite long enough to get around to talk to everyone)
I pulled up well from the run, so well that I could repeat it on Sunday morning - well, 10k of it at a nice leisurely pace. I got home feeling amazing - I'd been really successful in my goal for the run, keeping my heart rate as low as possible (which is still pretty high for the rest of the population but all things are relative).
Then Sunday afternoon, after a lazy day at the movies (Snow White and the Huntsman) followed by hours of reading (Andrea, I'm really enjoying the JoJo Moyes book - totally sucked into it) I headed out once again with Toby. We did a 3k training session of puppy fartlek. This involves walking, stopping and sniffing at interesting smells, trotting then all out sprinting (usually unsuccessfully chasing a bird). The intervals are done in a random order and differ in length according to the whims of the puppy. It's so much fun!
Sam, my eldest, left on Sunday for a week down in the Blue Mountains (west of Sydney) with his girlfriend. His relationship with Hannah has almost had a Romeo and Juliet flavour. Hannah's parents don't approve of Sam because he is not going to be a doctor - preferable a medical specialist. It doesn't matter that he's a lovely person who's on his way to having a second degree as an allied health profession. And it doesn't matter that Sam and Hannah adore each other. The only thing, apparently, that matters in their choice of life partner for their daughter is his profession.
So to keep the peace, Hannah has kept the relationship quiet and because she's moved to Sydney (to study medicine) they can have some lovely holidays together when their holidays coincide.
He texted me yesterday to tell me what a lovely day he'd had and then asked him if we'd missed him. He'd been gone all of 10 hours and, frankly, that's not really enough time for me to miss someone who's out of the house longer than that every day. But I didn't want to let him down so I told him that we'd missed him so much that we'd built a little shrine to him and would light a candle and sacrifice a block of chocolate to him every day. (Yeah, the chocolate was my idea but I've got a race this weekend and surely I can justify it in the name of carb-loading). I don't think he believed me and demanded photographic evidence ...
Voila - my hastily-erected shrine. Complete with a photo that Iven said I would never put on my blog. Iven you were wrong!!
I had a funny telephone conversation with my Mum last week which reinforced the need to be clear when you're communicating. She rang me when I was browning some meat to put in the slow cooker. I left it on the stove but turned the stove down low. We chatted for a little while when she was interrupted by a visitor and she asked me to hold on. I said I'd go stir my meat but my intention was that I'd be back. Unfortunately intention isn't always conveyed by words.
I went and stirred my meat came back to the phone and waited and waited and waited. After about 10 minutes I got a text on my mobile - It's the grey bit down below.
And when I read it I had to wonder for a moment if she WAS getting over the hill - she'd forgotten about me! No - it was just a case of miscommunication. Mum can still flog me at Words With Friends so I think the downside of the hill is still a long way off.