Another sensational week: so much has happened! The ultimate highlight has definitely been my first 7km race. This may see the rest of the week's activities relegated to Any other business (at best; they may end up as a PS), but I'll aim not to fixate solely on my running triumph. With that in mind, this week I have been...



So, last Monday's run - the first of three planned runs, you may recall - went a little awry. I broke/forgot one of the cardinal rules of race prep: don't introduce anything new to your routine before a race. 

I realised I had been putting off running because the warm-up bored me, so I found a new warm-up and did that instead.

Did it incorrectly, as it turned out.

I was in pain before I even left the house, but was very mindful of the fact that some running would be required prior to attempting the "race" (read: highly enjoyable run with no competitive inclinations whatsoever. This did not preclude an internal leap of joy - and surprise - every time I passed another runner). So I trotted off, did a 6km training run and proceeded to limp through the next four days. Still confident at this point.

Towards the end of the week, with the race on Saturday morning, I developed an attractive cough, which came with a free sore throat and assorted undesirable symptoms. Pulling out of the race was not an option (it just wasn't - I wanted a medal); besides, it was really just a cold, so I went to bed early on race eve after carefully laying out kit, pinning run number to shirt and visualising shiny medal scenario. Confidence level: stratospheric.

Race day, 04:40. If my body had been a classroom, taking the register would have gone something like this:

Chest Pain? Here.

Sore Throat? Here.

Stupid Cough?   *cough cough* Here *cough. ugh*

Cotton Wool Head? Here. 

Ugh. The only parts of me still up for running were my 'I love medals' gland and my 'It will all be over by 8am' artery. Thankfully they are both abnormally large and persistent! So, at 5:30am, I was out the door and on my way to the bus. 

BEST DECISION I COULD HAVE MADE. Saying no is too easy! And doesn't get you medals



Nothing I write will do justice to the sensation of running and completing a race - you'll just have to go and do it yourself! It really is the most satisfying feeling. I stuck to my plan, romped home faster than ever before (despite the hills, which I had not included in my training - they were a delightful surprise!) and crossed the line just wanting to jump back into training and work towards the next race. So go away, stupid cold - I have work to do!


That was Saturday, then. Any other business?

  • Listened to Neil Young's Harvest Moon (title track rather than whole album). Wow! See, I have written that and now I want to put it on again whilst I finish this off. Please hold; your call is very important to me.
  • Thank you. 
  • Finished reading Christopher McDougall's Born to Run. I was a bit impatient with this at first - took a while for the actual story to start - but it was worth persevering and I will definitely read it again. I also used some of the running insights during my race, to help me with the downhill stretches! This book was more than inspirational; in fact, it was almost dangerous - I started wondering about an ultramarathon! Don't worry, I stopped wondering pretty quickly.
  • Finished crocheting the cushion cover and began a blanket.


  • Received a spectacular bouquet for being the perfect hostess.


  • Oh, I also baked, bought stuff, lusted after a $100 cup and saucer in a cafe at Palm Beach and did a heap of other things, but it all pales in comparison to Saturday morning's perfection. Next week: a healthy body and respiratory system, a more rounded blog post and, possibly, a bit of news about hula hooping...