Something happier..

Got home last night: and my copy of Anna Charlotte, by Clare Mallory had arrived. Utter happiness – it’s one of the sweetest books I’ve read this year.

Meanwhile, on one of the colder days of the year – we have the heating engineer in, to fit new thermostats. Timing. We have it.




The last few weeks? Anxious. Anxious to the point of my feet feeling like they want to float away, my knees feeling disconnected, my stomach churning.

Anxious about Brexit, about Trump, about Climate Change…all Big Things that I can’t do very much about.

So, I have made an appointment with the GP, I am trying to be more mindful. I am reducing my meat and dairy consumption, pondering food miles, pondering clothing miles. If anyone has an answer to the palm oil in margarine vs dairy butter conundrum, I’m all ears. Or, alternatively, a solution to what fat to use when baking banana bread.

I have lost around a stone in weight since July – I’d aimed to lose half a stone. I hit 8st 1lb on the scales yesterday (admittedly, post-run – which was a dreadful run, because I was tired, because I hadn’t eaten enough the previous day, despite having cooked up both banana bread and mostly-veggie-bolognese….).

I have been this anxious before – 2009 was particularly hellish. I got through it. I will get through it. Because: while all these things may be terrifying, and out of my control, there are many things that are within my control. I can lobby. I can change my habits. I can look after my husband and look after my friends. BUT. I cannot do these things if my mental system is so paralysed I cannot move.

Also: I have to stop reading articles about Trump, Brexit, and Climate Change for the time being. I think I have enough knowledge for now. I merely need the rest of the world to catch up as best as it can.

Dad was supremely helpful when I was on the phone last night: he had similar feelings during the Cuban Missile Crisis. This made me feel rather better: the empathy.


Thames Meander…Oh. So Close.

My chip time was 1:50:37. My Half Marathon PB is 1:50:24.

My shoelace came undone. The last two miles were a hideous dodge-fest along a narrow pavement (with runners going in both directions – it’s an out and back course with two turns), and I wasn’t really aiming for a PB anyhow, as it’s a bit traily at times, and bumpy and lumpy and I use that as an excuse for not being fast. Hmmm.

Still knocked 5 minutes off my course PB, so we’ll take that. But I do not like the course now – the last time we ran it, a year ago, it only had the one turn, and didn’t have the bit with the narrow pavement. And, of course, if it’s not a closed pavement, and by the river, and nearly lunchtime, there will be people, children wobbling on bikes, buggies and so forth, and that will slow you down. Didn’t help that the boat club that you pass twice in the last mile had a regatta type thing going on as well. What was one of my favourite races is no longer. Where there are people – you have to be super careful. It’s not worth ruining the reputation of a race for a PB. I did get a bit muttery as I got stuck behind a small child on a bicycle…

I nearly cried at 12.8 miles. I didn’t quite think I had anything left. Then I actually told myself to dig deep, got on with it…and just didn’t quite achieve.

Oh well. With the delays to IVF, I’ve got the potential for at least one more half this year. I am about as fit as I have ever been. It might just work.

I’m blaming the shoelace, mostly (why? Why did it go at 3 miles? It has not done that before, in 80 miles of use…)

And: it’s far easier to focus on the half marathon than it is to worry about the state of the world. Trump with nuclear weapons? Terrifying. Trump’s supporters if they don’t win? Terrifying. But, I cannot do anything about it. So I will just have to hope.


In which we have mingled emotions

Bright and early it was, and we went to the local gynae department to discuss NHS IVF. Except? Well. By the time we’d waited about a bit, it wasn’t early (and we had failed on breakfast owing to oversleeping), and by the time we’d spent half an hour answering questions to then be told we’re not eligible because I’m too old… which is a shame as I wasn’t too old in our previous health authority… we didn’t feel too bright. 

But lo! A new hope opened up as he decided to check that I really was ovulating (we think I am) with an entirely different blood test which no one else has bothered to do. And, pending the results of that, I could possibly be put onto Clomid for a cycle or so… or just be sent privately for IVF. I only have the emotional wherewithal to do one or two cycles. After that, we may consider adoption. 

Update 22nd December, which is our next appointment. 



I nearly managed to do my tax return at the weekend. I almost got on top of the Guidemin. We went to B&Q and bought a second pair of secateurs (and I trimmed the front garden a bit). I’ve managed to  critically the book I needed to read. I have survived some long days at work, and also made it to running club Intervals (we did Oregon Intervals. For my last lap, I decided to try and keep up with the guy from the super-fast group which trains at the same time us. I managed 380m at a 6:10 min/mile before pegging out. He kept going). 

Tomorrow, I intend to leave work on time and not rush to the club run…. today I left late, caught my intended train only cos it was also late, and was so wrung out by the time I got home I had fish fingers for supper. Balanced with baked beans and broccoli….