Friday, 29 May 2009

ASSessing the situation

I managed to acquire some balls which I could rub my ass on. It hurts like a mo-fo when I do it, but I know it’s good for me so I keep on grinding against them.

Er....let me rephrase that.

My butt and hamstring pain is almost gone now thanks to the help of tennis ball therapy. Thank you all for suggesting it. I feel much better now. Although if it comes back, Dr. Nic has kindly offered to rub it out for me should I find myself in the Wisconsin area. Dude, your wife is totally going to meat punch you for that. Crossing my fingers that someone catches this event on video. :)

Since I’m feeling better I finally got in Baby Tempo run #3 last night. This time around I didn’t run it like a bat out of hell. Instead I made sure I was pushing myself and breathing harder but not to the point where I felt like I was going to lose a lung. I ended up running 1.4 miles in 13:14 which equates to a 9:27 pace. Huzzah! I am super happy with this and hope next week’s tempo distance of 1.8 miles goes just as smoothly.

Annual event
Tomorrow is my big sister’s birthday. Happy birthday, Z! Instead of writing a sappy post about this, I’ll just direct you to the one I wrote for her last year. See, I’m recycling. This is good.

What most of you don’t know though is that tomorrow is also my half birthday. Happy half birthday to me! Where are my presents, biotches? Actually I’d murder someone for a York Peppermint Pattie right about now. I dreamed of them last night for some strange reason and now I’m craving one. Not surprisingly they don’t sell them in this country. Bah.

All right, folks, time for me to get back to my extra long day of work. The only bright spot for me is late this evening when I meet up with friends at the pub. I can’t wait.

Have a great weekend, everyone.

Tuesday, 26 May 2009

You take the good, you take the bad

The one bright spot of my working weekend was Saturday when I had the opportunity to help excavate a test pit in a nearby village. The weather was gorgeous and the location was so quintessentially English it took our breath away. Basically it was a perfect day to dig a great big gaping hole in someone’s perfectly manicured back garden. Can’t ask for more than that really.

However karmic balance needs to be maintained in the world, so Sunday was total crap. Not only was I stuck inside during another rare good weather day but my activities from the previous day had left me with a massive pain down my lower left side, specifically in my left buttock and hamstring. I have absolutely no idea what exactly I did to myself but whatever it was it wasn’t good. My hamstring is so tight it feels like it’s going to snap and my ass just plain hurts—sitting, standing, whatever.

The pain is still with me today though it has lessened some. Since I was out of commission running-wise for the entire weekend, I took several walks and tried to stretch the affected area instead. Today was supposed to be Baby Tempo run #3, but that didn’t happen. I did get out for a three-miler, but it had to be super slow as my hamstring was not too happy.

If you all have any advice for healing a tight hamstring and a quite angry butt (probably piriformis) muscle, I’d love to hear it. Oh, and Glaven, please try to control yourself with the ass jokes in your comment(s). I know I’m asking a lot, but I think you can manage it.

Hope you all had a great holiday weekend. Catch up with you when I can.

Later gators.

Friday, 22 May 2009

Running to nowhere

Last night I dreamt I was running in a race, only the race entailed doing laps around a floor of a hotel. When I had completed the requisite number of laps, I went looking for the finish line but couldn’t find it. I ran up and down stairs and escalators and became more and more frantic as the time on my watch just kept increasing and increasing. Finally I happened upon the race organizers who were handing out the race medals. I went up to them and said I couldn’t find the finish line. They handed me a race medal instead, but I didn’t want it. All I wanted was the finish line.

No, my little psych majors, I don’t need you to interpret this dream for me. I already know what it relates to.

I hate being stressed out about work.

I’m bummed today, because I should have been going to Edinburgh for the weekend to hang out with friends and finally get to hike up Arthur's Seat (not a euphemism). But no, it wasn’t meant to be apparently.

I hate work deadlines.

This blows.

On a cheerier note, I got in a six mile run yesterday morning. I’d planned to meet my friend at the park just as it opened for a short three miler, so I set my alarm clock an hour earlier than that to get some extra miles in. I was hoping for at least a total of 7 miles, but it took me forever to get up and go after my alarm clock went off. About 25 minutes, in fact.

Is this normal or am I just plain lazy? I’d love to hear from all you other morning runners. How long does it take you to get out for your run after you wake up in the morning? What exactly does your morning routine entail? I need some tips on how to streamline my mornings.

Okay, that’s it from me. I hope you all enjoy the long weekend. Good luck to all those racing. I look forward to reading your race reports next week.

Later gators.

Wednesday, 20 May 2009

Slowly but surely

Tuesday morning was Baby Tempo Run attempt #2—a gentle mile warm-up and cool down with a 1.1 mile loop at sub-10 minute per mile pace sandwiched in between. Last week’s 0.9 mile loop was completed in 8:10 (9:04 pace). This week, I ran the 1.1 mile loop in 10:10 which equates to a 9:15 pace.

I’m happy with the results. I slowed my ass down a notch from last week’s pace and didn’t feel too much like death during or after this time around, but I’m still going too fast for a tempo run. Well, for me anyway. Next week’s tempo distance will be 1.4 miles, so I’ll have to slow down regardless, either by choice or because my body will just give out. I’m really hoping it’s not the latter.

My ability to do math on the fly (or on the run, if we’re getting technical here) has gone straight to hell in a hand basket. Once I’d completed the loop and was trotting along at my normal crawl once again, I’d thought that my tempo pace had been a lot slower than it was. I immediately worried about the following week’s longer tempo distance and thought about scrapping it altogether there and then.

Can you tell I’ve got a big fat fear of failure? It’s amazing, no?

Well, I’m stuck doing it regardless. I’ve already told you all about my tempo run goal and I know if I don’t post about it once a week then at least one of you will nag me. That’s motivation enough really.

Accountability, I has it.

Fair is fair
A couple of you complained about the eye candy on Monday’s post. Whiners. To make amends, I now post photos which the male readership is more likely to enjoy.

This is Helena Paparizou, who won the 2005 Eurovision contest for Greece with her song My Number One.

Gentlemen, you're welcome. Let's just call this broadening your cultural horizons. (That's what she said.)

Crap shoot
Viper’s post yesterday reminded me of another funny Craigslist personal ad that was forwarded around a while ago. Click on the image to enlarge.

Touché indeed.

Happy hump day, everyone.

Monday, 18 May 2009

Race Report: Town & Gown 10K

It had rained early in the morning on Sunday, but I trotted to the start line in decent weather. However, just a bare minute before the race started, the skies opened up and continued to chuck it down for the next half an hour. I think I gained an extra kilo in weight with the water retention in my hair and clothes. Lovely.

My pacing was all over the place, so I gave up looking at my watch at the 4K mark. The last 3K were in the park I usually run in which had the prospect of being very motivating for me, but instead was not. The rain, which thankfully had stopped by this point, had created huge puddles and muddy trail conditions. Also, we had to loop back and forth about three times, so I could see the finish line from the 8K mark on which was just sheer torture—so close yet so far. I lost a lot of momentum at this point, but somehow pulled it together for a good finishing kick where I passed at least a half dozen other runners.

I crossed the finish at 1:04:xx, over a minute slower than my PR. My lack of drive to push myself during the race just solidifies the fact that I do not possess a killer instinct. At least not right now. Instead of beating myself up over not reaching the goal I had set for myself (as per my usual), I savored the achievement of just running another race and scoring another medal. My non-PR time was the result of having prioritized other areas of my life over running in recent months and that’s just fine. I guess you can say I currently have the ‘I like shiny things’ mentality. It’s not a bad one to have sometimes.

As I was walking home after the race, a very proper older English lady was walking towards me. Noting my race bib, she looked at me and, with a very stern expression on her face, said, ‘I hope you did well.’

I laughed, grinned from ear to ear, and replied, ‘Yes, thank you, I did.’

Culture Club
Saturday was the Eurovision song contest. Each country submits a pop song. The entries get whittled down to 25 which are then all performed live on one night. Immediately following the performances is a call-in vote in each country. The results are tallied and a Eurovision champion is declared.

This is big shit in Europe. My sister was living in Athens when Greece won in 2005. She called me right after and all I could hear was utter chaos in the city in the background. The jubilation was just as great when Greece won the Euro football (soccer) final in 2004. And I’m sure you all know how crazy they are about soccer here, so the fact that they go just as nuts for Eurovision tells you something.

My two twit housemates were gone for the weekend so the other flatmate and I settled in to watch our first ever Eurovision. It’s some crazy stuff, people. Some of the entries are good, others decent, and still others are just downright terrible.

My flatmate was rooting for Iceland. I, showing familial piety, was pulling for Greece. Having said that, it wasn’t a hardship since this year’s entry was by Sakis Rouvas.

Ladies, you’re welcome.

I kept yelling for him to take off his shirt and my flatmate promised to chug her glass of wine if he did. He didn’t but he did end up ripping it a bit, so she downed half the glass as a concession. A real hardship for her, I’m sure.

Our second favorite countries were one and the same—Ukraine. The song was sung by some old Ukranian Madonna wannabe, but she had the best back-up dancers. Buff men wearing tiny loincloths and gigantic silver centurion helmets. Excellent stuff.

Sadly, Norway took the top prize with their rather annoying Fairytale song. My sister attributes Greece’s defeat to the fact that Sakis didn’t get naked. I wholeheartedly agree.

All right, folks, that’s it from me. Have a great week. Catch up with you later.

Friday, 15 May 2009


I am one big bruise. The combination of strength training, finally getting back to body combat class for the first time this year, and a new sadistic yoga instructor have left me feeling like I’ve had the snot beaten out of me. My arms are perpetually sore, my inner thighs are screaming (and not in the good way) and the place where my abs should be hurts like a mo-fo. Laughing hurts, coughing hurts and sneezing REALLY hurts. Thank god I’m not sick or I’d be in intense pain all day. At least now if I hold myself still enough, I feel fine.

As per my current motto, I’m starting small and building slowly with strength training. Last week I began week 1 of the push-up challenge (for something like the 4th time) and week 3 of the sit-up (actually crunch) challenge. I apparently did well enough in the sit-up pre-challenge test to skip the first two weeks. My abdominal area wishes I hadn’t.

This week I’m still going strong with both challenges and have added in three sets of chair dips to each session. If I’m not feeling on the verge of death later today then I’ll head off to body pump class at the gym.

On the running front, I got in a 5-miler yesterday morning. I’d set the bar low at 3 miles when I first went out but then felt so good I kept going. Saturday I’m set for another short easy run and then it’s a 10K race on Sunday. I’m praying most of the soreness has gone by then, but probably not knowing my luck. For the race I’m shooting for a 10-minute per mile pace for a 1:02:00 finish. Maybe the running dead will be there again to pace me like she did last year. I can but hope.

And finally, I leave you all with the song that has been stuck in my head this morning since it was the first thing to play on my ipod when I left the house. Enjoy.

Have a great weekend, everyone. Catch you later.

Wednesday, 13 May 2009

Getting up there

Baby tempo run #1 for this year is in the bag. The plan was to run a total of 5K with the tempo part being a brief 0.9 mile loop in the middle. My slow-ass was praying for a sub-10 minute per mile pace which means I needed to complete the loop in less than 9 minutes. (I state this for those who are mathematically-impaired).

The result?


That’s a 9:04 mile pace, folks. That’s pretty impressive for me. What’s not so impressive is the part of my left lung that was left out on the trail somewhere. Not exactly a tempo run per se. Next week’s 1.1 mile attempt will hopefully be completed in a more reasonable (for me) 9:45ish pace. Here’s to hoping.

Throwing in the towel
As you may or may not have noticed, I haven’t been commenting on a lot of blogs. That’s because I’m super busy again. My Google Reader taunted me last night with 322 unread posts. I couldn’t take it anymore and finally pressed ‘Marks All As Read’.

Besides the core group of blogs I’ve been reading since I started blogging, I also try to read those of the people who visit and comment at Diggin’ It, but I just can’t keep up anymore. Reading takes up a huge chunk of time and then trying to come up with a halfway thoughtful comment eats up more of my time. I’m sorry, but I just can’t do this right now. Maybe I’ll be able to be super present in the RBF blogosphere once I’ve finished my degree. And before I finally get a teaching post when I may be forced into bloggy retirement. We’ll see. Until then, please except my apologies. And please don’t forsake me and my blog. I crave your attention and approval. I’m needy like that.

Family matters
To try to end this post on a funnier note, I thought I’d let you all get a little peak into my family’s screwed up dynamic. Recently, my sister Z was visiting our dad in NE. My sister is only 18 months older than myself (though she looks barely past the legal drinking age) and is unmarried. She currently has a boyfriend with definite long-term potential (if he ever removes his head from his ass—I’m going to make a great sister-in-law, don’t you think), but we try not to mention this to our dad as he is a very meddlesome sort of person.

So during this visit, my dad manages to trick my sister into going for a car ride with him. This enables our dad to lecture/badger/question us at length in a confined space since there’s no way for us to extricate ourselves from the situation unless we want to exit a moving vehicle. Believe me, we’ve thought about it.

Anyhoo, my dad turns to my sister and manages to unintentionally paraphrase the opening scene from My Big Fat Greek Wedding by saying this:

‘You know, you getting up there. Just get it done, okay.’

Our lovely but archaic Greek father has been pestering my sister to get married for years and now he’s finally down to using the age card. She’s not even officially 32 yet, but dad still has the Greek village mindset where many girls (at least in his time and before) were married off around the age of 16.

The trials of having an old school foreign parent. Makes for decent blog fodder though.

All right, that’s it for me. Hope you all have a happy hump day. Later gators.

Monday, 11 May 2009

Race Report: Blenheim 7K

Alternate title: Reality check is full of shit. It had called for light rain during the race on Sunday. Instead, we got bright blue skies and a hell of a lot of sunshine. Hydration became an issue but at least I brought along sunglasses or I would have fried my retinas.

This 7K last year was my first race ever. All I recalled of it was lovely scenery of the grounds and lake and some smallish rolling hills in the second half of the course.

My memory is crap.

There were three huge-ass hills and a ton of gradual inclines all over the damn place. Also, a third of the race was on trails, so Princess Twinkletoes here had to be extra careful with her footing lest she hit a tree root with her gigantic clumsy foot and take a header.

To put it plainly, this race sucked. Three friends and I took on this course, with two of us sticking together until the halfway point. Up to this point we had both remarked how much all the hills bit, but she just had an easier time in taking them on and pulled ahead of me. She was in my sights the rest of the race, but I just could not catch up to her.

What really hit me hard was that I had no finishing kick. In every race I’ve run to date, including the marathon, I’ve always been able to sprint to the finish. Yesterday I had absolutely nothing.

My friend finished 45 seconds ahead of me. I’m super proud of her as this was her first road race in almost ten years. I don’t begrudge her her success, I just hate the fact that I couldn’t keep up with her.

Prior to yesterday, I was hoping for a 10 minute per mile race pace. After the first grueling hill, I prayed for a sub-11 minute pace. I got it but barely. My watch said I finished in about 46:45 which includes the 30 seconds it took to cross the start line. Sadly this was a non-chipped timed event. To really sink in how bad my pace was during the hills, I ran the first non-hilly mile in 9:45. Everything went to hell in a hand basket after that.

Sucktasticness aside, I PR’d by over three minutes. While that’s fantastic, the results have helped to highlight a part of me that I am not proud of. It’s not the fact that I’m slower than ditch water. It’s the fact that I hate being this slow but I do nothing about it yet still expect to see improvement.

My ultimate goal is to see some single digit mile pace numbers in my regular runs. And by single digit I mean 9. And by 9 I mean 9:59.

Since I’m finally sick of my own bitching, I’ve devised a plan to help me achieve this goal. Bitches, I’m finally going to incorporate some speedwork into my routine. Revolutionary, you say? You betcha! (Or, you know, not so much.)

Here at Diggin’ It, it’s all about baby steps. My habit of trying to do everything at once and then failing miserably will not repeat itself here. I’m starting small and building slowly. And I’m going to do it in my own weird-ass way.

There’s a park I run in often which has three loops. The smallest is 0.9 miles, the middle 1.1 miles and the largest is 1.4 miles. My plan is to re-incorporate tempo runs into my weekly running. With the requisite warm-up and cool down mile, I will attempt to run the 0.9 mile loop in a sub 10 minute/mile pace. I will do this once a week until I am successful. When I’ve achieved this goal, I will move on to the next loop, etc, etc until I can run a 5K distance in an average sub-10 minute pace.

After doing this for a few weeks, I hope to be disciplined enough to add in some 800 repeat sessions, but I don’t want to bite off more than I can chew right now, so that’s staying on the backburner for the moment.

My first attempt at this will be tomorrow. I’ll let you know how it goes on Wednesday.

And just so you don’t think I’m a total Debbie Downer, my friends and I did have a good time overall yesterday. One friend had never raced before. She walked/ran her way to the finish and was only barely beaten by the guy in the banana costume while the other friend was running her longest distance ever and finished just a mere two and half minutes behind me. It was a wonderful day and we celebrated with a calorie-packed cream tea afterward. Nothing like a scone slathered in clotted cream and jam to soothe the soul. Or clog the arteries.

Blenheim Palace was also playing host to a movie crew yesterday too. Apparently they’re filming Gulliver’s Travels there right now. Sadly, there is no one stalk-worthy for me to trail after, but maybe that’s for the best.

All right, that’s definitely more than enough of my babbling for one day. I hope all the moms enjoyed a great mother’s day weekend. Here’s to a non-sucky week ahead for all of us.

Later gators.

Friday, 8 May 2009


Well, I’m not as cranky as I was on Wednesday, but I’m feeling rather weary today. The combination of a busy work week mixed with a visitor from the states and a business-y like trip yesterday have left me feeling beat down. My brain is not up to much today, so I’m going to get all bullet-y on your asses for today’s post. Here goes:
  • The weather has been pretty crappy all week. So much so that I’ve had to put my ugly quilt back on my bed because it's so cold at night and my housemates and I are too cheap to turn the heat back on.
  • It’s currently raining sideways outside. I hate this country.
  • Somehow I've hurt the two middle knuckles on my left hand. They've been sore for a week now. It's strange, I don't remember punching anyone...
  • I seem to have unintentionally inspired people to take up running. There’s a group of us running the Blenheim 7K this Sunday. I’ve been out running with a couple of friends to help them prepare for it. Also, two other friends have put their names in for the London marathon ballot and, frighteningly, are looking to me to help them train. Holy hell.
  • This makes me feel super guilty because I haven’t run all week. Sunday’s going to suck. :(
  • My lack of running and shortage of funds recently are why I'm not running a local 5K on Saturday. Junk.
  • Looks like I’ll be excavating in Italy in late summer to early fall. Not sure if I’ll have internet access, so there probably won’t be much posting going on then.
  • A friend who will also be at the dig has asked me if I would mind if she ran with me while we’re there. And she’s not a runner. See, again with the inspiration thing. It’s scaring the hell out of me.
  • I need to start strength training now so I’m not super sore come excavation time. Who’s got a training program for me so I can develop Michelle Obama’s guns in three months? Anyone? Bueller?
  • Saw X-Men Origins this week. Huge plot holes, but I still liked the movie. Mostly because Hugh Jackman was naked half the time.
  • It appears I should post more pictures and fewer words as I got a whopping 35 comments on my last post as opposed to the 15 to 20 I usually get. Boy, you people are shallow.
  • Speaking of pictures, here’s one for you. This is a knick-knack I picked up during my Wales trip. It’s a little monk.

However, he’s a monk with a secret.

That's an interesting pooper you've got there, Mr. Monk.

Who knew monks liked to have pencils sharpened in their rears?

Sexual deviants.

Okay, that’s it for me today. Before I go, I want to wish a happy mother's day to all moms, especially my own. I sent your card out on Tuesday, Mom, so if you don't get it by tomorrow then I blame it on the English postal service. :)

Have a great weekend, everyone.

Wednesday, 6 May 2009


I'm busy and cranky today. Well, more so than usual. In an effort to not take out my bitchiness on any of you (particularly my usual targets) I'm just going to post some pictures which I hope distract you from the lack of prose.

These photos are of Port Meadow, where I run sometimes. I took them back in March around sunset, hence the lack of sufficient light in many of them. Enjoy.

See, I told you there were horses here.

And they're really quite friendly, as this guy is demonstrating.

The rower looked just like Prince Harry. But it wasn't actually him. At least I don't think so...

Godstow lock

The ruins of Godstow Abbey (12th century)

Cool pub alongside the river. Rather expensive though.

Thatched roof cottage

Notice the mallard in the bottom right of the photo keeping guard over his feathered lady friend.

Houseboats along the canal

Have a good day, everyone.

Monday, 4 May 2009

Drum roll please...

The results are in for the humiliation challenge! Your votes have been tallied by the Who Really Gives A Flying F*ck Committee (or WRGAFFC) and the rankings will now be announced.

In third place, receiving the bronze medal of slackassery, is the ginger-headed mayor of Ohmyhooha, RazZdoodle.

In honor of his medalling, the WRGAFFC will now play Ohmyhooha’s national anthem: I Touch Myself by the Divinyls.

In second place, receiving the silver medal of halfassery, is the scrappy, itinerant grad student currently residing in the Land of Rain and Old Biddies, Xenia.

In honor of her medal position, the WRGAFFC will now play her current residence’s unofficial national anthem: I Wanna Be Sedated by The Ramones.

And in first place, receiving the gold medal of badassery, is the wonder from down under (or not), the running dynamo that outran her competitors so soundly we just won’t mention by how much to save her defeated competition some small shred of dignity, the one and only Wonder Woman Lynda Carter X-Country2!

Will everyone now please rise and pay due respect (with the proper one finger salute) to the gold medalist’s national flag

and anthem: Another One Bites the Dust by Queen.

This concludes the WRGAFFC medal ceremony for the humiliation challenge.

Thank sweet baby jebus.

- - - - - - - - - -
Now all that’s left to do is for XC2 to write a victory post for Razz’s blog. I’m sure she’ll be humble and modest in doing so.


Have a great week, everyone.

Friday, 1 May 2009

Down to the wire

Okay, folks, we have ourselves a dilemma. There’s no clear winner for the humiliation challenge. Razz and I both reached our goal 4 out of 5 weeks so, if we were being graded, that would equate to 80% or a B-. XC2, whose goal was different from ours, scored a B- too. So apparently we have a three-way tie.

F*ck ties. There can be only one winner here. It’s like Highlander, except we don’t attempt to chop each others heads off. Well, at least not yet.

So, as per our half-assed rules, we’re going to leave it up to you, the readers, to decide the winner of this competition. Not only does the winner get general bragging rights, they also get to write a post on the loser’s blog. We’re still not sure if the winner has to post on the blogs of both the 2nd and 3rd place finishers, so I guess we’ll leave that up to you too. Frankly, we’re all busy people so I figure just having the winner post on the last place finisher’s blog is sufficient. But this then requires that you guys determine all three finishing places for us, not just that of the winner.

I know, I know, it’s all so complicated. This is what we get for not specifying all the rules in the first place. Our bad.

So anyway, there is a poll below that we need you all to fill in. Please choose who you believe deserves first place in the humiliation challenge. The last place finisher will be determined by the person with the least amount of votes. This prevents you all from having to deal with three separate polls.

To be absolutely fair, I should confess that I had said I would run four times and at least 17 miles per week. One of my 17 mile weeks was completed with only three runs. Having said that, Razz had one week where he ran only once and for a measly three miles. *cough*pansy*cough*. XC2, though not having kept to her specific WaP goals, managed to run more miles than Razz and I combined pretty much every week. Then again, the competition was never about who logged more miles.

Yes, I know I’m complicating matters even more, but I’m trying to be fair here which is difficult for me since I hate losing. Cut me some slack.

Yeah, so please go ahead and vote now. I’ll tally all this crap on Sunday night and we’ll post the results on Monday. Thanks in advance for helping us out.

In other news...
Thank you all for your sympathy concerning my hellish day on Monday. To clarify, all that trouble was just to get into the ballot for the London marathon. I don't find out whether or not I secured an actual place in the marathon until October, six long months from now.

The English are sadistic bastards.
- - - - - - - - - -

In an effort to keep up my momentum from the humiliation challenge, I’m officially declaring May to be Hello Kitty Sticker Month!

Let me explain...

Every time I run or workout in some fashion, I put a sticker on my wall calendar. I’ve been doing this for ages now. Last year, my friend Ellen sent me some fun stickers to replace the generic ones I’d been using. I’ve now started on the last packet she gave me and it just so happens to be Hello Kitty. I’ve got 29 stickers left, so my goal is to exercise 29 days this month. That gives me only two days of total slackitude, but that’s all right. This will be a great way for me to start re-incorporating all those long walks I used to take in the park and Port Meadow—a great way to unwind and get some perspective on the day. As long as I do thirty minutes of any kind of intentional exercise, I get a sticker for that day.

This is also great incentive for me to finally look into getting a bike. Since the weather has improved exponentially here, I’ve been thinking again of my goal of cycling to Blenheim Palace. There are plenty of bike paths in the area too so a bike would be well worth the expense and it’d help me get in some much needed non-gym cross training. Having said all that, I should probably wait until mid June and the end of term when people who are finishing up will be trying to get rid of their bikes, but I think we all know how little patience I have. Waiting is probably not an option for me. Eh, we’ll see.

Okay, that’s more than enough yammering from me. I hope you all are enjoying this fine May Day. May spring smile down upon all of you today. Or at least not throw buckets of rain on you.

And please stop by XC2's blog to wish her good luck as she's running the Lincoln marathon on Sunday.

Have a great weekend, everyone.