Because it’s three weeks until Tallinn half marathon, because N is probably not running the marathon, which was the whole point of the exercise (his Achilles just is not playing ball).
So of course I don’t want to run it. I don’t see the point. I’m lousy at running. I’m rubbish. I’m slow. I look ridiculous. Why on earth would I want to travel that far to run a race that I never wanted to enter in the first place? Wouldn’t it just be cheaper, and less hassle, to stay at home and watch the Last Night of the Proms instead?
I also have woe because I don’t want to be in the position where the only hope of a baby is IVF. There’s been a massive spate of new babies on facebook this week. Two of my best friends are pregnant (and due within weeks of each other). My body is a failure. I am a rubbish gestational vessel. I am, frankly, old and past it. For running. For babies. For everything.
Next week we’ll have been married two years. Next week we’ll have been failing to conceive for two years. 95% of couples will conceive within 2 years….
Maybe I just need some chocolate?