Have Kids .....and a Hangover, Not Running

Help meeeeeee, the Chippenham Half is in four weeks. While I should be knocking out 25 + miles a week, I'm barely managing 18. Yes I know you don't have to be up to distance before the race, and I know I'll probably manage OK, but in my tiny mind, I can't just run it. I have to run it, get a major sweat on, ask myself throughout why I'm doing yet another race and then feel fantastic at the end when I've come close to or even managed a PB.

So why do I need help? It's the school holidays and having more time on my hands I had remarkable visions of upping my preparation. I was planning to jump out of bed at six when chap gets up for work, (obviously with not a hair out of place and looking completely refreshed and even beautiful) heading out the door greeting the postman, milkman, paperboy, well in fact anyone who happened to be up at the time, and then running a quick six miles. In reality, the alarm goes off, I look and I feel like something that has been dredged up from the bottom of a lake. I know instantly that there's no way that I'll be facing the world and I'm certainly not going to scare the aforementioned morning workers.

To make matters worse I have a problem with alcohol. It's not that I hide gin in my airing cupboard, I don't disappear up the garden to neck several vodka's, I don't fall through shower doors or hide bottles in the rubbish (what was that film called?), it's quite the opposite. My problem is that I don't drink very much and when I do I just can't take it. I must be the only person who feels completely p***** after one large glass of wine.

Anyway, my long run is normally on a Sunday because that's when I have the time. Two Saturdays ago we were invited to a BBQ. I should have declined any offer of alcohol and stuck to water but one White Wine Spritzer couldn't hurt. I actually had three but seeing as I was planning an easy run the following day I figured that I'd be fine. That night I went to bed feeling quite normal but the next day, oh my goodness, I was fit for nothing. Stonking head ache, dehydrated, felt that I'd swallowed half the lake that I'd been dredged up from. Never mind I thought, there's always next weekend, I could catch up then.....

This Friday, Laura was away at squad and seeing as she's 12 and now refusing a babysitter, we made the most of the opportunity and booked Gemma. We skipped down to the Red Lion (we don't get out much), had five Spritzers (chap had beer - not a spritzer drinker because he's not that way inclined) and I was absolutely hammered. I'm now embarrassed - I didn't do anything particularly bad but how on earth did I think the babysitter would think I was sober. I can't recall the rather slurred conversation I had with her and am dreading seeing her again. (Note to self - apologise to Gemma). Anyway, I woke up the next morning fully clothed with the biggest bruise on my arm - serves me right for falling up the stairs. Then the Exorcist visited and stayed until 4.30 on Saturday afternoon. What a pitiful site I was. Thankfully, chap was just fantastic and even rubbed my back as I talked to God. He was far more sympathetic towards me than I to him should the roles have been reversed. The long run on Sunday went out of the window - I managed a pathetic seven miles.

So, with four weeks to go to the race, the morale of this story is:-

• Bin the idea of a morning run,
• get rid of any idea of upping the preparation but if there's an opportunity to run grab it with both hands,
• forget a PB at Chippenham and aim to enjoy it - there'll be other races.

Lastly and most importantly, move away from the Spritzers - they're the devil's own juice. Incidentally, I'm now considering becoming teetotal which isn't a bad thing as the thought of white wine makes me gag.....oooo, and on that note......until next time.