According to my mate Baker the following is true.....
I love a FB/Twitter rant!
If you can't read it she wrote "Lol once you get to a certain point u'll get hooked....... until then trudge on its worth it."
My response was not particularly positive. I am not enjoying this. I am trudging through. My knees hurt. My bum now hurts. I am beyond tired. My feet hurt. My shins hurt and the longest I have run at one time is 4 miles! In fact I haven't run four miles I have jogged.
I will keep trudging on, but can someone, anyone please tell me when I am supposed to get hooked?!
After 2 days of not training I knew I had to make it up today and I did. Today I jogged further and longer than ever before! I went for 1 hour and I managed 4 miles, so I was quite pleased with myself.
I am even starting to feel guilty when I don't make it to the gym...... I am turning in to a monster! However there was no guilt when I took Friday off training so I could see my other guilty pleasure, RPatz aka Mr Lush, aka Robert Pattinson in the latest Twilight film!
LUSH!
There is just something I find so sexy and charismatic about him, that I reckon if he was my carrot and stick I could finish the marathon in record time..... Honestly if he was a regular Joe who worked at my gym I would pay over the odds for him to be my personal trainer. Not because he is particularly buff and would be pushing me in the sporting sense, but because I would want to impress him as he is such a fittie! This led me to think, should I enlist the support, time advise of one of the personal trainers at my gym to help motivate me through the hard, early stages of my training!? They are quite fit in more ways than one and maybe they could encourage me to push myself that little bit harder!? hmmm might do some investigation on this one, watch this space......
Today I used my first ever marathon training plan. Its a 24 week plan, which I have decided to start at week 5!!! Despite the fact the I am only on Week 3 of my training, I was naive enough to think it would be ok. It was nowhere close to being ok! It hurt, it hurt a lot BUT I did do it.
The plan in case you are interested is here. So if you fancy a laugh at what I found hard and what hurt, take a look at what I had to do for Wednesday! It is the first time I have started to look at serious marathon specific training, and it seems like a good place to start.
What does crack me up is how when I tell people I am doing the marathon, everyone becomes an expert....
My friend did this... Oh you must do this.... You should 100% try this
I akin this too when people realised my bestie Spoons was having a baby and she went through a similar experience! Everyone telling her, without her even asking for it all the advice she 'had to have'. I know people have good intentions with the advice they are offering up, but I think that is what it is, I haven't asked anyone for their advice! I have found an overwhelming amount of running 'experts' have be hiding in the woodwork of my school. So Mr Peter Eriksson, get yourself down to north London to seek the advice of my colleagues so they can help you to inspire the next generation of Team GB athletes because apparently they know best!
Petey Boy Eriksson
I know I might be sounding like an ungrateful cow, but what gets my goat (Cow, Goat, what's next) is when people become patronising with their know all knowledge when they haven't done anything remotely similar!!
I thought I would go for an ironic title, because I am nowhere near about to go BOOM! I am shattered, I mean really tired. I am tired when I wake up, tired at work, tired when I leave work, and tired when I go to bed. I literally feel like my next step is matchsticks to keep my eyes open. There is no good reason for me to be this tired, which leaves me to ask what is wrong with me!? Seriously any advice or ideas send them my way!
So I had my first visit to the gym with J, and as predicted it worked! It motivated me to go the gym and push myself that bit harder....not that much harder mind you as I am shattered! I even think deep down she enjoyed it too. I think I might have created a monster.....
what have I created...Franken-J!
Anyways this little ditty is what got me through today on the treadmill....
Power Song - The Fresh Prince and Jazzy Jeff - Boom! Shake The Room
New day, new frame of mind. After Friday's events, Saturday greeted me with fun times, giggles and achievements! I truly felt at the gym yesterday I was starting to make some headway. This could have been down to Friday's events, but it has given me the nudge to remind myself I can push that little bit harder. I also went to Rebel Bingo. This is not the first time I have been to this event, but it was previously know as Underground Rebel Bingo. It was a secret event, but now it is loud, and proud and refuses to be 'undercover'! This isn't the usual type of bingo, and it is not one that your Gran might go to. No sir this is very different! Rebel Bingo describes itself like this....One night we got drunk in the basement of a church hall in London. We found an old bingo kit stored down there. We started messing around with it and accidentally invented a new, mutant form of bingo. We knew it was wrong, but it felt good. We weren't supposed to be there, in the basement, and we definitely weren't supposed to be experimenting with bingo. We called it Rebel Bingo. The old skool bingo community have heard about our Rebel Bingo parties - about the noise - the screams - the emotion - they are not happy. They think we are desecrating their boring old game. They are old and angry. They want us to stop. But we don't care.
This is not bingo. It's Rebel Bingo. We know it's wrong. But it feels so right. And they can't stop us.
Their rules are as follows....
No old people.
No boring people.
No wankers.
No office parties.
No hen parties.
No stag parties.
No work suits.
No customer service.
The night starts with rebellious anthems such as 'Killing In The Name Of' (now on my gym play list!) whilst a clock runs down to the start of the mayhem!
Once the clock has run down to 00:00 the presenter of the nights precedings comes out with his two bingo caller assistants. Picturescantily clad bingo callers, with hilarious and disgusting bingo calls...... "The age my Nan was when she broke her hymen...87!" .... "Do me up the bum until I am bloody and sore...54!".
In fact no need to picture, here is what it is like......
The bingo callers with the potty mouths!
Who loves fucking numbers?!?
The prizes are silly, a stuffed panda (which my mate actually won yesterday!), novelty umbrella, glitter ball. It is fun, it is silly and definitely not for the easily offended! The only downside is some of the twats that having the event being held in Hoxton brings.....Hipster, pretentious C*NTS! Clearly some of them were having their first beer or so it seemed. You see the thing about rebel bingo is you mix a room full of drunkereds with felt tip pens....
case in point!
This inevitably breeds TWATS! We had a group of these TWATS right next to us, who were all fighting each other with pens on who could write the most hilarious thing... because writing 'c*unt' and drawing a dick is so original...what rebels!! Just going off topic a second, isn't it funny no matter where you come from in the world or your age group everyone always draws the same cartoon penis
big fat balls and a short fat shaft! #classic
Anyway I digress , the TWATS we encountered kept bumping into us to the point of obnoxiousness. They however did receive their comeuppance.....
1."Oops! You bumped into me so that's why you are covered in beer...SOR-RY, I am not sorry!"
2."Oops! You bumped into me again and my lid was off my bingo pen, so now your top is covered in red felt tip pen....SOR-RY, I am not sorry!
Never mess with the Pulse sisters!.. Us girls (Me, my sister Kell-belle, Rizzle, Smithy and Baker) left Rebel Bingo feeling rejuvenated, holding our new prize friend the panda like Jess Ennis held her gold medal.. aloft in the air, full or pride that 'WE DID IT!'
Anyway this is what the doctor ordered, a night of silliness and I am not so hungover I can't go to the gym... Beer before liquor never been sicker, liquor before beer you're in the clear!!
Not sure how to start today's post. As I type, this is the 4th time I have tried to start it. I guess this is what happens when you are an illiterate rascal. This is going to be a very maudlin post, but I feel it needs to be written.
When I decided I wanted to run for a charity I wanted it to be for one that meant something to me, one that would push me to that finish line, push past the inevitable pain barrier and get me to my goal. For the last few months this has been an easy decision for me as I felt the decision was going to be made for me. I was under the impression that I had a charity place for the marathon, this basically meant I had to raise money for the charity I put down in my application form. This incidentally was Mind.
I rang up Virgin London Marathon earlier this week, as to be honest I wasn't exactly sure what I should be doing and realistically what I had actually signed up for! They then informed me that I had in fact won a ballot place, one of the 22,000 very sort after ballot places and did not need to raise money for a charity. As shocked as I was that I had 'made it' this was never up for debate, I was always going to raise money for charity.
Earlier this year a good friend of mine from my university days, someone who I haven't seen for years, informed us of some truly horrible news that his brother had taken his own life. Although I never knew G's younger brother, and I hadn't seen G's in years I felt liked I had been kicked in the stomach. Depression is something that has affected my family and myself, and knowing how close I or one of my family members came to having to go through what G and his family were going through scared me to the point of nausea.
Once G and his family were slowly coming to terms with their grief they decided they wanted to raise awareness for young male suicide. Although I am sure this gave them some comfort, I could never get over how brave and courageous I thought they were for using their grief in such positivity. Would I, could I ever do the same? A question in all reality I never want to find out.
As soon as I saw this I knew who I wanted to raise money for, the charity that now meant so much to them, CALM - Campaign Against Living Miserably. No to sound rude, but on the outside I am sure this sounds like a charity that all of us would want a chunk of! I mean who wants to live miserably?! Well, not me, not any more that is.
I have kinda of glossed over the fact that depression has effected me. Maybe we'll save that for another time and another post. I am sure this post has enough doom and gloom on it already and doesn't need any more!
I contacted G this week and told him of my intentions to which he quite naturally was very touched. I am sure he was quite surprised to hear that I wanted to help, considering I haven't seen him for years! He doesn't need to know how much it hit home that I truly understand depression is not something to be hidden behind closed doors or be ashamed of.
Today however was where my plan has changed.
I have said previously I am emotional person, and more often than not this is the instinct that drives me, and today has proved that no end. I have been a teacher for about 10 years now. I have met some very special kids and some very special parents and I feel privileged to have been 'educated' in some way or form by them all. Some kids and parents stick with you, you make that bond and that never leaves. These are the ones who you never forget, ever.
Today I found one of those kids who had one of those parents, had some awful news, and their first instinct was to come to my school to tell myself and a colleague face to face as they wanted their 'friends to know'. Their Mum, his wife had passed away today, a few days after she had left hospital to go home and be with her family. She had cancer. I will genuinely never get over how strong they were in those minutes we spent chatting.
The way this father and son spoke of the nurses that helped them and his mother, his wife, through the last days of her life is truly impossible to put into words. This disease, this cancer has affected my family and the families of those nearest and dearest to me and I think you would be hard pressed to find someone it hasn't.
Cancer is such a dirty, sickening word, it has no remorse, no reason, no prejudice, it just takes. So now this training, this run, this marathon has a new meaning. It now has another life for me to honour.
I will never understand why such bad things happen to such good people or families, no matter what their circumstances.
This is for G Junior and Mrs M.
Power Song - (Found this cover that I like of today's power song) Patty Griffin 'It Don't Come Easy'
I have had so much shocking news in the last 12 hours that training is out of the question! It is amazing how in a matter of seconds you life can be turned upside down and inside out.
As a result, today I have decided to simply post my ultimate 'Power Song'.
Ultimate Power Song - Florence + The Machine - Shake it out
All these months of doing fuck all exercise, fooling myself that I was a teacher so was getting a 'work out' during my school day has caught up with me.......and my arse, thighs and waist This realisation cemented itself when I realised all my 'new' gym gear I bought a year ago now does not fit ..... and not in a good way!
Today was hard, really hard. It was the first day back after half term, my first evening gym session in a while and the gym was packed so my usual routine was out of the window. This along with the above wound me up today and had me in a bad mood.
I hate the first day back at school after a break.
Power Song of the day: Shy FX & T Power - 'Don't wanna know'
My flatmate J is quite possibly one of the most competitive people I know. This personality trait of hers is something that not only do I love about her but it is also the thing that drives me completely round the bend! She is competitive about everything, and I mean EVERYTHING!
However at the moment her competitive edge is what I need to motivate me. When me and my bestie Spoons were going to the gym last year we motivated each other in to going to work out. We stopped going to the gym upon the news of the arrival of her own little Spoon (teaspoon), and with that went my motivation for exercise! Having that friend to get you to get your arse in gear and go to the gym I believe is so important, and it is what me and Spoons were good at. On my own I was a useless, excuse making, lazy slob!
Yesterday evening J revealed to me the following.......She wanted to have a look round my gym... she was thinking of joining!!! Now I may seem a little over excited here, but when it comes to exercise me and J have had a few, shall we say disagreements to the point of near argument in the past!
J claims she hates exercise, despite the fact during her teen years she was a bit of a 'Sporty Spice'. I have many times in the past tried to get her to come with me for walks, gym sessions, jogs and she never has. The cynic inside me lays this down to her competitiveness, others have agreed. Who knows or who cares why she is suddenly interested in the gym, but in my quest of marathon domination this was great news!
I think it is going to take some very tentative baby steps to get her there but if I do I know she will push me to go to the gym more often, and with my ability levels at the moment this is something I need!
I have also decided that since music is crucial to my training that each blog title will be lyrics from my 'Power Song' of the day. My 'Power Song' is the tune that gets me to push myself that little bit harder, faster, stronger or helps me to get over that point when I am about to give up!
Power Song of the day: Republica - 'Ready To Go'
This post is also dedicated to the one and only Miss Teacher who is also 'back and ready to go'!
I have decided music is the key to my success at this marathon malarkey. Today there was a distinct improvement in my performance, I actually ran, ACTUAL running took place. It wasn't for long but for a few beautiful minutes I was an athletic machine, giving her best gold medal performance race! And what you may ask do I owe this success to?? ........
#sexyandIknowit
I owe it to these four gentlemen.
This is the Spencer Davis Group. I know their music. I love their music. Even when I was a child and my mum and dad used play their tape of the 'Buster' soundtrack with the song 'Keep On Running' over and over and over again , it never put me off, it only made me love it more. I love the song 'Gimme Some Loving', genius, timeless classic! These four beautifully quaffed, 70's impresarios from the land of the Brummie, got me through the gym today, made me feel like an Olympic gold medal winner, gave me that edge to push myself harder, faster, stronger.
However, as much as I was familiar and in love with their music until about an hour ago I had no idea what they looked like. Rightly or wrongly their soulful sound, those on point harmonies made me assume the 'Spencer Davis Group' had to be a product of Motown, or a Memphis Sun Studio. So I got home and I Googled them and found that picture above.
Not only was I wrong, very wrong, about what I was expecting them to look like but these four specimens of brilliance were from the land of Birmingham, England not even Birmingham, Alabama!!....
not quite Memphis!
I do not know what shocked me more, me running or my reaction when I saw exactly what the Spencer Davis Group looked like!
So Spencer Davis Group, thank you for your motivational, arse kicking tunes, I salute you!
So no gym action.. standard, but here is how I spent my day instead (I think far more productive!)
1. got my hair 'did'!
2. spent far too much money shopping
3. Went out to Covent Garden, to Roadhouse for Halloween drinkies with my besties Rizzle and Henners and a few cocktails, vodkas and Jägers later we left... 4. ....to get on a night bus home where we were 'greeted' with what I thought was one of these lollies down a mans trousers.
Now this man was standing directly in front of me and Rizzle with his flies open whilst we were sat down. I then realised what we were looking at was NOT a lolly, it was definitely NOT a lolly. Come to think of it why would a lolly even be down his trousers?!? Now then, now then.... Sorry, is it too soon for Jimmy Saville jokes?!? He also had on these 80's power ballad rockers trousers, that were black snakeskin lamé, which really puts the phrase 'rock out with your cock out' into a literal sense. Fright night indeed! Henners did say this which got me thinking. Her brother Stewpot was one of the friends who I have seen run the marathon and he was good, I mean really good! They were having a conversation about my impending veer in to marathons to which his response was "she really needs to get her arse in gear". Does the marathon mean I really need to make some biggish life changes pronto.... no more alcohol no more late nights, strict diet? or can I get away with keeping things relatively the same?Henners then said, "Seriously Pulse, you are going to have some hardcore support to come and watch you!! Everyone wants to come!". This has now struck the fear of god in me, nearly more than being inches away from some dirty old perve on the night bus with his cock out in my face. Yes I want support on the day, and I will be massively flattered by anyone who comes to support me, but I am quite intimidated by the prospect of everyone's expectations of how long they are expecting to wait around for me to complete the race. Is it 4 hours 5 hours, 6 Hours, 7hours, longer!??! Surely they don't think I will be quicker than 4 hours? Not sure how I feel about these prospects yet, might need some more thinking time. Miss Pulse
