This will be my first, and possibly last drunkish blog post. I am currently lying on the sofa beside my huffy teenage cat who is ignoring me as he cleans his balls. Fair enough. The Star Trek Family Guy episode is on, but I have it muted because I’m listening to the new Calvin Harris / Florence and the Machine track which I just downloaded – class by the way. I had my chum Roisin round tonight for X Factor and a massive Slimming World curry, though I complemented mine with a bottle of Stowells Pinot Chardonnay; hence my merry disposition. I’m great sport when drunk. Full of hugs and over-sharing.
I’m feeling melancholy. This marathon is wrecking my head. It’s all anyone talks about, and it’s invading my headspace. The injuries are mounting, and I seem to have constant hip / lower back discomfort. I’ve spent the week in the gym, cross training my scheduled shorter runs. I have a long run of 10 miles to do tomorrow, which I have no confidence in completing at all. I’m still pissed off I had to finish short last week. Then again, I’ve done 18 miles, which is supposed to be a ‘solid base’ for the main event in November. Having said all that, I’m back at 12st 5 as of this morning which is good. My only strategy for New York is to drop as much weight as I can between now and then, and hope that being skinnier will somehow make me a super athlete. Tchaaaa……. I think I drank that bottle of wine because I’m past caring about my training plan. I’m almost looking forward to using the hangover as an excuse to lie in bed! Don’t think there’ll be a hangover though, I’m not drunk enough. That curry was huge enough to line my tummy and keep me at least 20% sober!
I’m also pissed off because a guy I worked with in The Bank died this week. He was only 40. He just collapsed in the street and died, presumably from a heart attack. Don’t get me wrong, the last time I saw him was around 2007, so we weren’t besties; but we got back in touch via Twitter a few weeks ago and were going to ‘do coffee’ and catch up etc etc. I kinda wish now that I’d been more proactive in organising that coffee. I’m sick of bad things happening to good people – I can’t think of anyone more full of life than Dee. Full of laughs and smiles, and an all round nice guy with a wicked sense of humour. My abiding memory of Dee is of him dancing on a table in Milk (Belfast) with a drink in his hand, a bouncer coming over to reprimand him, and both of them ending up half-dancing/half-hugging on the same table. His good humour was infectious!
Life is too short, and that cliche is overused. But it’s true.
God bless xxx
One of the many tunes that remind me of the good old days