In which I go for a little run

In my last post, I gave you a little tease that I would be doing something exciting.  Those of you who follow me on Twitter or Facebook will already have a very good idea what happened, but here it is in all its glory.

On Wednesday evening last week, I (briefly) met Paula Radcliffe.

How did this miracle come to pass? I saw a post from Nike Running UK on Facebook about the event, which was held at the Nike Fuel Station on the south side of Clapham Common.  I knew I'd kick myself if I didn't, so I sent an email asking for a place.  And I got one!

I'd guess that Nike had loads of publicity planned around the fact that Paula would be running the London 2012 marathon and when she had to pull out, they had to change their PR plans. It was quite simple.  They asked everyone to go running with their Nike+ app and log it on Twitter with the hashtag #legendsrunforever.  Simple as that. Go run in Paula's honour.  So I did, we did, in our thousands.  And some of us got the opportunity to go to London to see her.

I had a bit of a fraught journey to get to Clapham Common.  I managed to leave work promptly and get the right train which then got delayed.

*sigh*

So I arrived at Clapham Junction later than expected to find that I'd missed the bus I needed to get.

*double sigh*

Just as I was standing at the bus stop dithering, a couple of runners approached the bus stop.  Their train had also been delayed and we decided to grab a cab together and head to the Fuel Station.  What a couple of nice chaps - Martin & Miguel - and we had a nice chat about running as we hurtled towards our destination.  Thankfully we arrived in time, queued up to get our free running t-shirts (white, with Legends Run Forever written in gold letters, very nice) and then sat down on the grass and waited for our heroes to appear.

First out onto the little stage was Carl Lewis.  How exciting.  A genuine Olympic legend and quite a witty guy to boot.  Then came Paula, to enormous cheers and excitement.  I hope she felt the love there that evening!

Look! It's Carl Lewis! and Paula! (and some guy asking them questions)

A half hour Q&A session followed, which was great, as it was Paula's first public appearance since she announced that she would not be competing.  One thing that really stuck with me was Paula's response when she was asked what inspired her to go out and run.  She replied simply that it was she loves to do it.  She just loves it. I think that's wonderful, and I really hope that her recovery goes well and she can get back to it soon.

After that Paula came down onto the grass and was very patient while everyone scrummed around her clamouring that get their picture taken.

Hero Worship

Paula was very gracious, and had the same lovely smile for every picture.  She is a complete inspiration on any number of levels.

I was so excited to get my picture taken that I nearly missed out on the run that was taking place!  I just managed to tag onto the back of the last group to set out around Clapham Common.  It was great fun, with people from the Nike run club escorting us around the Common.  Then there was a barbeque before it was time to head home.  I got directions back to Clapham Junction from a lovely friendly Nike Run club member and walked back.  As I got to the station, I heard "It's you again!" from behind me - it was Martin and Miguel, my taxi buddies!  I had to wait a while for my train, as the line was still a bit messed up, but got home without issue.

What a great evening, massive thanks to Nike for putting this event on (did I mention that there was no entry fee, it was all completely free, including the food) and for giving us the opportunity to connect with not one, but two sporting legends.

I didn't think it could get any better than that, but Sunday's events proved me wrong (another teaser!!! I'm so mean to you guys).

Separately, I'm loving the Nike Find Your Greatness ads - this one in particular encapsulates everything that I believe about sport.  This is Nathan from London, Ohio being Great.  Enjoy xx

In which I do some sport

Everyone, something exciting has happened!  You know that sporting legacy malarkey that we're all supposed to catch, except that none of us has, because we can't stop watching the Olympics long enough to get off the sofa and do the hoovering? ("No, it's really important that I watch the Greco Roman wrestling, I'm really into it now!").  Well, in your face Beeb 24 channel red button sport watching addiction, because on Friday evening I actually went out and did SPORT! (I know! Wow!).  

For a few years now, I've been aware of a series of local aquathlon events based at the Guildford Lido. Every year, I've thought about entering and then have never quite got round to it, for one reason or another.  So this year when a friend suggested entering, I took it as a sign that it was time to stop titting around and just do it.  So we did.  I shan't bore you with exhaustive detail on this.  Suffice to say that we swam 500m in the outdoor pool (tiring, as there was odd current pushing back at one end - breeze? I don't really know) followed by a 5k run around Stoke Park (which had been ploughed after the massacring it got for Guilfest, very uneven underfoot).  

I'm not going to lie.  The whole thing hurt like a bitch.  The swim felt good, but the run was tough.  My left shoulder hurt throughout, my left calf was really tight and I had a stitch in my right hand side.  But despite all of those things, I really enjoyed it and we have already signed up for another one in Hertfordshire at the beginning of September.  

I plan to actually train for this one (if only so that it doesn't hurt so much), so I have already hit the pool and shall be going running once I've posted this.  In actual fact, I would have been running anyway, as my training plan for the Great South Run starts this week, so it's all tying in together nicely.

Please note that Murdoch is not joining me in my sporting endeavour.  He is currently doing this....

Oofy oof

... lying in his bed blinking and making his best tired "oofy oof" noises, as he has been at the Dog House all day and as a result is knackered. If there were a gold medal up for grabs in a "lying on your back huffing" event, he'd win it.

In other news, I'm off to do something even more exciting tomorrow evening.  Eeeeeeek! That's all I'm telling you for now, I'm a tease!

Playing the Game

I've been thinking quite a bit about the Olympic badminton fiasco.  You heard about this, right?  In case you haven't, this is the story about eight badminton players being disqualified from the competition for "not using one's best efforts to win".  I didn't watch the matches, but essentially these players were deliberately playing badly so that they would lose their doubles match and therefore get an easier draw in the next round, easing their way through to the final.  I agree wholeheartedly with the disqualification because the actions of these players have annoyed and upset me considerably.  This is why.

We talk about athletes across all sports and disciplines "representing their countries".  For many people this is quite an abstract concept, but for me, it feels much more real.  I believe that these athletes, their effort and endeavour, truely represent the people of the country that they are competing for.  They are our finest, our best and they are competing on behalf of each and every single one of us.  Why else do we get so much joy and excitement from their success?  Why else do we feel so deflated when they do not perform as well as they and we had hoped?

In contrast to the attitude we saw from the badminton players, earlier this week we had the British men's rowing eight competing at Dorney, aiming to win the gold medal.  They gave it everything they had, went out like the clappers and risked going home with nothing as a result.  Thankfully they left with the bronze, making the nation proud in the process.  

So I guess my question is, who would you want representing you?  Who do you feel better represents you as a person, as a citizen of your nation?  The participants who seek to make their way through the competition by taking the easy option?  By choosing the path of least resistance?  Or those who hit the finish line leaving everything they have on the floor?  Those who strive for excellence?

I know my preference!  Bring on the British bulldog spirit - grab on and don't let go until the job is done.  Go Team GB!

A Wonderful Weekend

Is it Sunday evening already?  I've had a wonderful weekend and the time has just flown by.  

Now that quite a few of our group have babies, we're finding different ways to spend time together, as it can't be all about going out on the lash.  So these days we meet for walks, brunches and on Friday evening we held our book club's inaugural event.  The first book chosen to read was Fifty Shades of Grey.  Which I hated.  I could go on for a loooooooonnggg time about exactly why I hated it, but instead I'll direct you to this blog, that says it much better than I ever could.  Despite my rabid hatred of the book being discussed, we had a whale of a time, chatting about the book while enjoying a nice drink and a take out Thai curry.  A good time had by all, and hopefully a better book picked for next time!  We'll be reading Wonder, by RJ Palacio.

On Saturday morning I got up early and walked Murdoch before heading out for a run with B.  We did three miles before B split off to grab a few things from the shop.  Just afterwards I bumped into a couple of former colleagues wandering the streets of Farncombe trying to find their way back to Godalming, I took pity on them, jumped into the car and drove them back to Godalming.  Then after a quick shower I got a call from J asking me if I wanted to join him at the gym for a quick go on the bikes - he's just joined Fitness First and is super keen!  I thought "why the heck not?", got changed into some clean gym kit and headed out the door.  I'm really glad I went, B used to be my gym buddy but she now uses a different gym, so it's lovely to have someone to go with again.  

After that it was another quick shower before I had to head into Guildford for an optician appointment.  Guildford was rammed (because of Guilfest?) and I got stuck in traffic.  This led to me rescheduling my appointment, which was fine, but meant I had little time before I had to get back and collect Murdoch for our weekly walk at Blackheath, which was lovely as always.

After the walk I had just enough time to chuck Murdoch into the flat and throw some food down his throat before I went out again.  This time to a garden party to welcome my friends' baby into the world.  It was wonderful to see them and to meet baby Elsie, who is a lovely little girl.  I also got to catch up with some friends who I hadn't seen for some time while enjoying some wine, so all in all a lovely way to end a really busy day!

Today was a little less busy, but no less exciting.  I got up early again to walk Murdoch, but went back to bed for a while afterwards and caught up on some sleep.  Then it was time to get ready.  Because I was heading off to the theatre for an event that I have been looking forward for ages.  I grabbed B and her other half, S and drove down to the Chichester Festival Theatre to watch David Suchet take part in a rehearsed reading of Black Coffee - Agatha Christie's only play to feature Poirot.  It was fabulous and during the Q&A afterwards, David Suchet confirmed that he would never do this play again, so I feel really fortunate to be one of only a very few people who will ever see him perform as Poirot live on stage.  

I got back in time to take Murdoch for his evening walk and now I think it's time for bed, before heading back to the office tomorrow for a rest!

A Cad and a Bounder

My story starts a couple of weeks ago.  I was sitting on my sofa at about half past nine on a Friday evening, as I often do, when I heard my letter box clatter.  How odd, even the pizza guys don't normally deliver flyers that late around here.  So I went to see what it was.  

It was a handwritten note which said

[name, which I won't put here] (no 11)

[phone number, which I won't put up here]

ANYTIME (this is actually double underlined, for lots of emphasis)

Well you could have blown me down with a feather.  Although number 11 is directly over the road from me, I honestly had no idea at all who lived there and who this guy was (for the purposes of this post, I'm going to call him Norman, although that is not his name).  So how did he know who I am, to the extent that he'd put a note through my door inviting me to get in touch ANYTIME (double underlined)?  I sent B a text.  She lives a few doors down from me and knows more people around here than I do.  She didn't know who he was either, but thought he might be a plumber (it turns out that he isn't).  

The story now goes quiet for a week, as I dithered about whether to call this guy or not.  On the one hand, he could be a weird stalker type, but on the other hand, he might just be a sweet guy who plucked up the courage to contact a stranger who he saw and thought was cute.  There was also the fact that, while he knew what I look like, I had no idea what he looks like.  My worst case scenario was that he might be a very old man with a Hitler moustache.  And a house full of cats.  Does that make me shallow?  Maybe.  In any case, I'm sure you can see my dilemma.  

Cut to the following Friday night, when I headed round to a friend's house for a few drinks with the girls.  As the wine flowed, my tongue loosened and I was soon telling the girls all about this odd situation.  This led to an animated discussion about what I should do and a frankly hilarious bit of role play where one friend was Norman, another friend was herself (using her GCSE drama skills and a fake moustache) and yet another friend was Norman's front door, as we thought of ways that we could identify who this guy was without me actually having to speak to him (looking for a lost dog being the favourite scenario). As funny as it was, once I sobered up, I realised that there was only one thing to do.

So I dithered a bit more, of course.  Procrastination is my speciality.  Then on Monday morning as I opened the curtains in my front room, I saw a man drive away in a car as a woman on the first floor of number 11 waved him off.  I wasn't sure what to make of that, my first thought was WIFE!, but after a bit of consultation with my friends, I decided not to jump to any conclusions - it could just as easily have been his flatmate or sister - and to just send him a text message.  

So I sent him a short polite text, apologising for not knowing who he was and asking if we'd met.

He replied almost straight away, saying that we'd never met, but that I'd smiled and waved at him.  This was not very helpful to me in identifying this man, because I smile and wave politely to pretty much everyone I encounter, whether on foot or in the car.  I guess it made quite the impression on this occasion.  He also said that putting his number through my door was not the sort of thing he usually did and he didn't know what had come over him.  A couple more texts were exchanged, nothing very exciting - mainly because I was being quite guarded as I was still very much in the dark about who he was and very mindful that he lived over the road from me, making it a potentially awkward situation.

Then he asked me if I was on Facebook and I immediately saw an opportunity to find out a bit more about him  without giving any detail about myself.  So I asked him for his name and told him that I'd look him up.

So I did.  And the first thing that I saw on his public profile was his relationship status......

MARRIED.

Good lord.  Stunned.  Absolutely stunned.  You might ask why I was stunned, because there had been a couple of warning signs, but I honestly didn't think that even the most foolish of married men would be stupid enough to mess right on their doorstep!

I immediately sent Norman a text message telling him that according to his Facebook profile, he is married and that I therefore didn't think it was a good idea for him to have put his phone number through my door (duh!).  He replied:

I know, but I did say I dunno why I done it.  Just a spur of the moment!  I see you didn't add me either though!

Errrrrrmm riiiiiiiiiiiight.  So the fact that it was only a spur of the moment decision makes it ok that you decided to put your phone number through the door of the woman who lives directly opposite you and your WIFE?!  And do you really think that there is a possibility that I might still add you on Facebook?!  Not a chance sonny.  I responded immediately:

No - and I won't be either.  Please delete my details from your phone.

And there endeth the tail.  Sort of.  You can only imagine the level of outraged hilarity in the email trail that ensued with my friends.  So there are several things that I have learned from this situation:

1.  There are some really awful and stupid people about.  I can't decide if this guy was super cocky or just really stupid.  In case it's not bad enough to proposition another woman when you're married - to do it to a woman who literally lives in your wife's sight line?  My mind is still blown by that.

2.  There are some really really stupid people about.  What if I'd decided to follow his lead and post a note through his letterbox?  Good luck explaining that to your wife buddy.

3.  My friends are a fantastic bunch of smart, witty, lovely and hilarious women.  I love them and are very grateful to have them.
4.  Aren't some people just awful?

I know that this post may seem to be treating the situation in quite a flippant way, but I would like to stress that I feel just awful for Norman's wife.  I feel so sad that this poor woman that I have never met is married to a man that would behave in this way.  That said, I will not be enlightening her, it's not my place and I'm not going to drop that bomb.  I hope that Norman has learned a lesson from this situation and behaves himself in the future.

My final lesson from this experience is perhaps to be more careful about who I smile at.  My smile is clearly a weapon.  In fact, only yesterday evening as I walked to my car after work, I smiled at a couple of guys walking towards me.  One of them said "You have a nice smile" and I thought "Oh don't you bloody start!" and walked on by.  So I have a new strategy, to only smile at reeeeeeeaaaaaaaally hot guys and hope like heck that they turn out to be single!

I'd be really interested to hear people's thoughts about this situation, please feel free to comment x

Fridge salad and a nice risotto

Yesterday's dinner: fridge salad

Vegetarian month got off to a somewhat unpromising start yesterday, when I realised that I couldn't be bother to cook.  So I made a quick salad out of stuff I had in the fridge: baby spinach, some rather tired spring onions, a bit of grated cheddar and some potato salad.

Today also did not seem promising at first.  I had a really busy day at work and bought my lunch from a snack van that does the rounds of our town.  Usually when I buy my lunch from the van, I'll have a chicken and stuffing sandwich, or ham and tomato.  So this was uncharted territory.  And ended up being a bit of a disappointment.  The only two veggie sandwich options were egg salad (I'd rather eat a poo sandwich) and cheese salad.  So I had cheese salad.  It was ok.  I really need to get organised and sort out my own lunch.  

Today's dinner: kale and pea risotto

Today's dinner was much more of a triumph.  I am very fond of a risotto.  I quite often make them without adding any meat, so today's evening meal of kale and pea risotto was not too much of a departure from the norm.  Very simple to do, just chop up plenty of onion and garlic and soften them off in some olive oil (I always add a few flakes of sea salt as well). Add the arborio rice (keep the heat quite low) for a minute and then add some vegetable stock.  From there on, you know the drill: keep adding stock bit by bit until the rice is as soft as you like it.  In the meantime, steam the kale and the peas so that they are ready to add to the risotto with the last bit of vegetable stock.  I prefer to leave my risotto with quite a bit of gloop to it, but some people prefer a drier dish, I guess.  I also added a little bit of grated cheddar at the end (see what I mean about the cheese?  I can't seem to eat things without it!).  I made a big old pan of the stuff, so can now enjoy this dish over the next few days. 

Hush............

A gentle hush has fallen.  June is done and across the blogosphere, Juneathoners are taking a well earned break from jogging, logging and indeed blogging.  Ssssssh, don't speak too loudly, a whisper sounds like thunder in the void...... :)

As I mentioned in my last post, I didn't do enough of the community side of Juneathon, but ho hum, there's always next time and overall I'm happy with my totals for the month, who knew I walked so much?!:

Walking 122.7 miles

Running: 23.3 miles

Swimming: 1k

Crosstraining: 5hrs

In other news, I've hit upon a challenge for July.

Interesting fact about Amy: for nine years as a youth, I was a vegetarian.

(Another interesting fact about Amy: sometimes she refers to herself in the third person. Gah.)

I stopped being a vegetarian Stateside during a holiday with my parents.  I was 22, teenage idealism had worn thin and I really freakin' wanted a burger.  So that was that.  These days I still don't eat meat with every meal, but I'd like to see how I get on without it for a while.  So the questions are:

1.   Can I revisit vegetarianism for the entire month of July?

2.  Can I do it without eating my own bodyweight in cheese (oh God, I really love cheese)

3.  How long will it take for someone to offer me a great vegetarian recipe centred around the mushroom (oh God, I really hate mushrooms)

I'll try and blog regularly to let you all know how I'm getting on and will post any recipes that I've tried and enjoyed.