Why exercise is better than cider.

It's Sunday evening here in the land of the long white cloud, and the weekend is drawing to a gentle close. I have a mug of peppermint tea, newly-dyed and cut hair, David Attenborough on the TV and a belly full of home made curry. Contented doesn't begin to describe it.

The weekend's been a successful one all told. Friday night I was one of the skaters selected by the winners of our "Win a date with the derby girls" competition, so I got to eat my own bodyweight in Burger Fuel vegetarian goodness whilst chatting with the winners, who happened to be some new skaters I'd skills tested the previous week. Contrary to any concerns I may have had, there was no awkwardness and it was really quite pleasant. That was fundraising night 1.




Prizewinners!


Fundraising night 2 was a Bitchin' Bingo night to raise money to send our travel team to The Great Southern Slam. As my team isn't playing the home season bout next weekend we were the ones driving this night out so I spent most of my afternoon buying food, slicing up bread, and setting up tables and a bar which was my domain for the night. It was a busy night and a great success, which made the hard work on a day off feel very much worth it. Afterwards I met up with a friend of mine from the motherland who's been doing the Great Kiwi Tiki Tour and was in Auckland before flying back to the UK. Here's where I almost get to the point of this entry.


It was, as you'd expect, bitchin'

 Sunday is long run day in my marathon training plan and, as I've said, I'm sticking to that plan religiously. As a result, any drinks for me would have to be few and gentle. Also, my nasty habit of poncing cigarettes off people when I'm drunk is counter to my "BE ALL THE HEALTHY" mantra. It was not going to be easy. However, I managed to have two small glasses of cider and a diet coke, drive everyone home, stay smoke-free and fall into bed at 2am. I had a run scheduled at 10am.

And you know what? I woke up before my 8am alarm. I remembered I was meant to be running that morning. And this thought made me incredibly happy. I met my running buddy, we ran (slowly), had coffee, and it was fantastic. We had both bought trail-running shoes that week so it felt only fitting that we try them out around the Auckland domain.

Trail running is really hard compared to road running. The slippery surfaces, the weird cambers, it all adds up to slow progress. However, it's also great fun! Running with a buddy's good too, we both agreed that we'd pushed ourselves a little harder than we otherwise would have by ourselves, which was a good feeling. My buddy is younger, fitter and faster than me so I have to really work to keep up, but that's the point after all.

I'm not going to lie here. I find running hard. REALLY hard. I'm still trying to get my muscles used to it again after a few months away and I'm slow and I pant like I'm dying after five minutes but it's still awesome. I love the (currently very short) period when I start running before the gasping starts, when I feel like I can run forever. I like knowing that the more I stick at it, the longer that period will get. I love the warm achey feeling I get afterwards in my legs and shoulders, and how amazing a shower feels when I get home. I relish the loose, relaxed mood I get into a few hours afterwards, when everything just seems quite nice and I'm very contented with the world. Since I started running again I've become aware of how my mood has just....lifted. I'm eating better and sleeping better. I'm sure that if I maintain the positive attitude towards every training and focus on what I have done each time, rather than what I haven't, the next 23 weeks of training are going to go great. Next week I have 4 training runs (Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Sunday), two derby training sessions AND on Sunday morning I'm going to a bootcamp hosted by none other than Bonnie D. Stroir! Saturday night I'm helping at a league home bout, where again I shall not drink at the afterparty so I can skate for hours and then go for a run the next day.

Just as well I've got a lot of energy at the moment really!

Finally, my lovely friends in London have sponsored me a pound a mile for the marathon, taking me to a mighty $204 raised! Pickle thought that was worth a thank you note...




DISCLAIMER: Rat may not have actually written note. She did try to eat the oil pastel though.