Posts from — December 2013

Sweet Little Something 3

December 6, 2013

This week’s Sweet Little Something is a little morsel from each of us that we would love your comments on. A photograph, a link, a poem…a tidbit of inspiration. Leave us a note or create a haiku for a photograph if it takes your fancy. Have a happy weekend.

From Hannah:

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From Ria:

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In: From Hannah, From Ria, Sweet Little Something

Running for pants 3

December 1, 2013

I have started running again. Ahem. I have resumed wearing these great stretchy pants and sometimes I run in them. Mostly I strut about as if I am going to go for a run later but secretly I just like wearing the pants. Because they are stretchy. I would very much like to be a person who runs. I can run, sure, as a function, but I have absolutely no form and very little will power. Once, a gym instructor exclaimed to me: “Wow! You’re not a natural runner, are you?” Yup, he was actually shocked by how graceless my (un) natural stride is. Unfortunately he was right. I caught my reflection jog-shuffling along a shop window tonight and almost laughed out loud. If only I had been able to breathe.

 

But every now and then I go through a phase of persevering with the insanity of it all, convincing myself running is both healthy and free and I should really give it a go. Running is my frenemy. If it were a person it would be overly peppy, wear velour tracksuits with ironic slogans and these on her nails. I hate running most of the time, but I particularly hate it for the first ten minutes, which feel like ten hours and almost convince me to turn around, head home and sit in a corner sulkily eating Christmas mince pies. Those first ten minutes hurt, don’t they? Your chest aches, your knees ache, you can’t f*%^ing breathe…repetitive thought: why am I doing this?!

 

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I guess the answer is (I hate to admit this) that if I make it through those first ten minutes (not a guarantee) I do sometimes, sort of, almost enjoy it. Maybe I am just stunned that my legs are moving with some speed, despite the horrible gait. That my lungs have not collapsed or knees buckled. Somehow the air starts getting in and my muscles stop burning so vindictively. The body begins to feel okay. Good, even, dare I say it (stupid, effervescent, persistent frenemy). It is nice to actually use the body, for a change, which I normally plonk in a chair in front of a computer and sit, statically, for hours and hours and hours and hours.

 

As a handy / cursed side effect, running also seems to help with writing in a similar way that showers do. [Read more →]

In: From Hannah, Kids and Parenting, Writing