Big boobs and high heels

Saturday 28th May

Distance: 2:08 miles Time: 31.11 Avg Speed: 4.01mph Avg Pace 14.58min/mile

Calories Burned 362                                      Calories Burned TOTAL: 1404

Another one of those ‘I don’t want to get out of bed mornings.’ I had a broken night last night, not down to any pre get up stress or end of term burn out. No. the son and heir went out with a friend last night and one thing I have learned about my son over the years is that ‘I won’t be late mum’ is code for ‘I’m going on a bender and I won’t be back before dawn!’  Now those of you reading this who are parents know that it does not matter how old your babies get they are always your babies and you always worry. So although I had not gone to bed until about 1.15am and had fallen straight to sleep the inner mother does not sleep. When they are tiny babies you wake just minutes before they do, as if some great internal nurturing clock had synchronised with the rhythms of your sleeping infant, the same is true of your adult baby. When he is out I sleep now, I didn’t used to, I used to lie awake worrying and fretting for his safety, however my inner mother woke at 4am (and after that I really did not get back to sleep properly) and I knew he was not yet home but true to form about 10 minutes later I heard the rumblings of a 34 year old man struggling to open the front door. Once in he then heads to the kitchen, he is always a hungry drunk! This morning as I dragged myself out of bed following the fractured night I was greeted by a scene from Hansel and Gretel, there was a trail of cake crumbs leading from the bathroom back down to the kitchen. I must admit I was very tempted to go and shake him awake and ask if he wanted to come on a run with me, as he is also doing the GNR, but being the caring, considerate mother I am I decided to let the little lamb lie, besides which he is a moody sod when he is hungover and I know I would have got a mouthful of abuse, so I let the sleeping dog lie. My Raison d'être had stirred briefly as I arose but as I always do on a Saturday morning I left a sleeping house.

In the early hours whilst waiting for the drunkards return I had lain awake planning a route and I had decided that I would not yet turn left at the top of the street, for some reason my psyche sees a right turn run as more of a ‘breaking myself in’ run whereas going left is a commitment to go further. I knew the distances and if I was to head off down to Hyde Park and amble down Hyde Park Road, down Royal Park Road then pootle through the Harolds and Mayviles I could then come back up Cardigan Road and along Victoria Road and back home through the Richmonds. This I did but at the point I would take the quick cut back to my street I looked at my tracker and realised if I did that I would be short of 2 miles and I feel that I need to keep 2 miles as a minimum distance so I dragged myself up the north face of Richmond Avenue and home. It is worth pointing out here that my tracker tells me that the maximum altitude I reached was 476ft, and as those of you who know the GNR know, IT IS HILLY, so I feel that I need to build some climbing into my runs as last time I did the run the hills were a big shock to my little legs that were used to relatively flat runs. 

I felt ok this week although at those moments, and there are many, when I break out into a walk I found that my ankle pained me and running was more comfortable than walking. I figure the reason for this is very simple. My feet do not like flat shoes! Since a very early age, I think about 9 years old, I have worn heels. I love heels I do not do flat shoes! There has been a whole furore in the press this last week about women and heels in the workplace and how ditching heels is the new burning our bras. Now I wholeheartedly support a woman’s right to liberation, equality and freedom from oppression that is not in question but I intend to support my gender with my hooters pointed high and my feet firmly placed in my Cinderellas. I never burnt my bra in the 60s and 70s and there are 2 very good reasons for this 1) I am blessed with a comfortably rounded bosom that requires a good level of support. 2) I can’t be doing with the feeling of my boys swinging around unrestrained or looking anything less than perky! I pride myself in the fact that even though my norks are a substantial size, have breast fed an infant for 2 years and are placed on 54 year old body they are not in a bad place and if I did choose to go braless or wear a plunging top with ‘titty tape’ requirements then I could do it without them looking like a bag of old laundry! But I will not burn my bra.

Neither will I surrender my heels. I love my heels they define me. I am only 5’1¾”, that is not tall and I always wanted to be tall. I have girls in my class at the moment who, at 10, are already taller than me. So I wear heels to make me tall. I can still remember my first pair of heeled shoes. My mum had always bought me sensible Clarks or Startrite shoes but at the age of about 10 I was allowed a pair of Barratts shoes. They were brown Mary Jane types with inset shades of red and brown on the upper, the block heel was about 1½ inches and if I caught the light just at the right angle on the shiny polished church floor on a Sunday morning, I could catch a shadow where they looked about 6 inches. I would sit and twist and turn my foot in the light musing and admiring the long shadow, the die was cast and so began a lifelong adoration of heels. I will not surrender them. I always remember chatting to one of my neighbours some years ago, at the time she was well into her 80’s and she said to me

“Do you know Janet I am just like you? I always wear my heels I always will they make me stand up straight and hold myself properly, I don’t want to be one of those old ladies who stoop” So Eva Cope I salute you, and like the truly liberated woman that you were I too will always wear my heels and hold myself erect whilst pointing my brassiered tatties to the sky and celebrating my freedom and liberation.

For now I will close as always by saying thank you for your support and if you could please sponsor me  at https://www.justgiving.com/Janet-Lewis3 for however much you can spare I and www.musculardystrophyuk.org would be most grateful.

Thank you

Time waits for no man unless you need a workout app

Saturday 21^st May

Distance: 2:10 miles Time: 30.46 Avg Speed: 3.53mph Avg Pace 15.72min/mile

Calories Burned 292                                                Calories Burned TOTAL: 1042

Time plays tricks on you, doesn’t it? The other week I worked in a school where every time I looked at my watch after what seemed like an hour, a mere 5 minutes had passed it was the longest day spent with the most rude, obnoxious and unpleasant children I had taught in a long time. Then other days like Thursday this week I have a Reception class for PE and an hour passes in 5 minutes. It is in fact the greatest pleasure of my week to have those 4 and 5 year olds for PE, every week I consider it a success if they all have their trousers on the right way round at the end of the lesson. This week the score was;

          trousers back to front:   0

          jumpers reversed:         0          

          shoes on wrong feet:     0

jumpers on upside down: 0 (yes, before you ask, it is possible, ask any Reception teacher)

However this week I have a new one to add to the list, that is- both legs in one leg of shorts- the overall effect created a flapping leg which had something of the Vivienne Westwood about it. What is most endearing about these children is that they are totally oblivious and last week as one boy lined up with his trousers on back to front I had to giggle to myself at just how nonchalantly he stood with his hands in his reversed pockets! I do enjoy my morning in Reception.

But back to my point about time tricks, we all know the adages about time flying when we are enjoying ourselves and conversely dragging when we are waiting for something, well today I had the ‘time standing still when you can’t get a dammed signal’ experience. I always track my runs with the Endomondo App which in itself is good and reliable. What I have had to factor in is the ‘location signal availability factor’ as sometimes, as this morning, I lose the signal and then come to a grinding halt whilst I jiggle and jump about in a vain attempt to encourage a satellite up there to see me and log me back on. I had been pootling along quite nicely and had run down to Hyde Park Corner, round by Wrangthorn Church, round a few back streets and back onto Victoria Road, then diverted down Chestnut Avenue, along Welton Road and was heading back up Cardigan Road when a message flashed up. Now the important factor to remember here is that old age has brought about many changes to my body. I list here;

Unmoveable fatty lumps and bumps

Undefeatable silver grey strands of hair around the temples and crown

Unfillable cracks and crevices around the eyes

Unexcusable (yeah I know it should be inexcusable but allow me some authorial creativity here) creaks and cracks when I bend down to pick something up

Undeniable lapses of memory about what I was going into a room for

Unpalatable bouts of indigestion and heartburn

Unenviable appearances of little, stubby, grey chin hairs  

Unfathomable conversations with oneself

And of course the marker of the ageing process that cannot be hidden, dyed, botoxed, massaged, retraced, medicated, plucked or ignored;

Unable to read without glasses.

My need for reading glasses happened at about age 48. I had managed to avoid them up to this point and I actually felt a little smug about this fact. Oh pride how thou dost cometh before a tumble! As sure enough the day dawned when I could no longer read small print on shampoo bottles and I was in danger of washing my eyes or worst still drinking the fruity herbal balm! What began as an inability to decipher how to open, cook, wash or assemble the simplest of things has deteriorated to a point where any written word smaller than font size ‘blind old git’ requires a pair of Specsavers best. However I do not take my reading glasses with me when I run I just blindly amble on past street signs and ‘do not enter’ notices consequently when my Endomondo App sends me a message I have to squint at it and hope that I do not press the self-destruct button. So today at 1.57 miles into my run I got a ‘Do you wish to continue with your workout?’ message instead of pressing the ‘cancel’ option ie cancel this message!! I instead pressed what I though was no (well I could only make out 2 letters!) which in actuality was ‘ok’ ergo I ended my recording! Then ensued much profaning and petulant stomping whilst I endeavoured to start again a recording, which had most definitely, been halted. I think I need to contact Endomondo and suggest they add a ‘do you want to resume a work out that you previously aborted because you are too blind to see the options we gave you?’ option. Through my blurred vision I managed to get going again but not before I had lost both time and distance from my record and struggled to get the signal, probably due to the huge over hanging trees I was under. It is pertinent to note here that at this point my iPod kicked in with the track Blurred Lines. So the lesson learned from today’s endeavours is cancel does not actually mean cancel, ok looks a lot like no and Blurred Lines is a great song. 

In spite of all technological failures, old age interruptions and pure stupidity I still managed to get out and do about 2 miles I recorded about two and possibly did a little more but due to my switching myself off I don’t have an accurate record so my stats this week are based on a rough calculation from five separate ‘workouts’. The legs are still holding up and the heart is still intent so that is good. We did Eurovision last week and the winner was bloody awful, have no more to add on that point! This week I think I will do nothing or at least that is the hope my Raison d'être and The Son and Heir may have other plans but for now I intend to put my feet up and maybe do some knitting!

For now I will close as always by saying thank you for your support and if you could see your way to logging onto my just giving page  https://www.justgiving.com/Janet-Lewis3 and sparing me a few pennies I and www.musculardystrophyuk.org would be most grateful.

Thank you

My fortress of solitude

Saturday 14^thMay

Distance: 2:35miles Time: 33.53 Avg Speed:4.16mph Avg Pace 14.26min/mile

Calories Burned 416                             Calories Burned TOTAL: 750

OOOWWWWWWW! Did not want to do that! My alarm went off at 6:32 I turned it off and rolled over thinking ‘sod it, I can’t do it today’ and settled down. Yet I didn’t settle I lay there listening to the gentle snore of my Raison d'être (please note I have found the little accent hatty thing!) and my over active brain started to niggle at me. It would not let me lie, I tried to fight it but my inner self, the driven one, the one that never gives up, the one that never lets me stop, the one who’s strength is the bedrock of my being, the one who I am depending on to get me through the next few months shouted at me,

“Get your lazy fat ass out of bed and go do what you know you need to do, fat ass”

So after such admonishment from oneself I had no choice but to drag the aforesaid “fat ass” out of its pit –a bed which is worth pointing out is the world’s MOST comfy- pull on my lycra, a feeble attempt at restraining the “fat ass,” fasten up my trusted running shoes and strap my tracker and iPod to my arms and set off.

Having really enjoyed the route I took last week I decided to go much the same way however as I had finished just shy of 2 miles last week (and that rankled!) I took a slightly more convoluted route over The Ridge and down across Meanwood Beck thus ensuring that I covered the extra 0.05 of a mile that was requisite to the task. It was another beautiful morning; I really do enjoy being up early and seeing the city before it has begun to wake. On a Saturday the locality sleeps later and there are so few people around just a few cars, dog walkers, random cyclists and fellow early morning runners. With the advent of Park Run many people do that on a Saturday morning but I prefer to be up earlier, Park run does not kick off till about 9am and by that time I am home showered and ready to face the day. Also I much prefer to run alone I am by choice a solitary runner. Anyone who knows me knows I can talk!

“Oh no!” you cry” Surely not? You a talker?!! Why you are such a quiet little thing, I would never say you are a talker!” so running with others and chatting as we go simply does not appeal to me. In truth I do enjoy solitude, in my work solitude is a Never-Going-To-Happen type of situation. Even in my personal life I am so busy and always with others, which I love, yet when the opportunity to sit and contemplate my naval arises, I love it. Solitude and appreciation of it is a great gift, I know many people fear it and hate being alone, I suppose I am lucky because the solitude I enjoy is by choice and not brought on by loneliness, which is whole other ball game and not my topic of choice for today’s ramblings. Yet lucky I am and at 7am on a; beautiful, fresh, early summer morning I was out with the birds, pounding the streets enveloped in my own joyful solitude.

If I am honest although reluctant to get started this morning I needed to run and clear my head today. This last week had been SATs week (no I won’t go off on a rant here I will keep my soap box under the table) and I had seen the effect that these wretched tests have on children, suffice to say I would like to stick the papers up the education ministers smug ass, that aside my heart bleeds for the 10 and 11 year olds who have been subjected to this draconian (insert any of the following harsh, severe, strict, extreme, drastic, stringent, tough, swingeing, cruel, brutal, oppressive, ruthless, relentless, summary, punitive, authoritarian, despotic, tyrannical, arbitrary, repressive, iron-fisted here);method of assessing their worth. I have taught two very different Year 6 classes this week. The first are a delightful, bright, committed and enthusiastic group of students who will, I am certain, do well and continue to enjoy education and get all that they can from it extending their potential at every given opportunity. The second were different. I had taught them before a week or so ago and to be honest when the call came to go there again I really should have said no, but I didn’t I went with a ”how bad can it be attitude?” I should have listened to my doubts, I should have said no! I should have put on my Lycra and run, run as far as possible. Never has a day dragged so long. Never have I checked my watch so many times willing it to be more than 2 minutes since I last looked. Never have found myself thinking that I was too old for this game! I had an awful day surrounded by the rudest most reluctant learners I have ever taught. They simply did not value their education and thought that rudeness was ‘funny’. That violence was acceptable. That everything was boring. I realise they were “Satted out” as all year sixes were this week but this was a different kind of feeling. It was because I felt so blerr and drained and wrung out that I really needed to run. To run in my little bubble of solitude, my self-imposed fortress of isolation and now I have done it I am glad. I have left the blerr behind, cleared my head, worked my legs and am now ready to face the day.

Later today I will have my annual Eurovision birthday party for my Raison d'être. I will be surrounded by the friends who are as daft as me and love this annual cheese fest like I do but more of that next week. For now I will close as always by saying thank you for your support and if you could see your way to logging onto my just giving page  https://www.justgiving.com/Janet-Lewis3 and sparing me a few pennies I and www.musculardystrophyuk.org would be most grateful.

Thank you

Here we go again AKA Fatty's back!

Saturday 7^thMay

Distance: 1:95miles Time: 29:40 Avg Speed:3.94mph Avg Pace 15.14min/mile

Calories Burned 334

Saturday 23^rd April

Distance: 1:44miles Time: 22:01 Avg Speed:3.93mph Avg Pace 15.15min/mile

Calories Burned 248

Monday 4^th April

Distance: 1:29miles Time: 20:51 Avg Speed:3.71mph Avg Pace 16.09min/mile

Calories Burned 213

Well folks here we go again. After I completed the Great North Run 4 years ago I did not say ‘Never again.’ I suppose in the deep, dark competitive regions of my soul I think I always knew I would have another bash at it. Last time I was only 1min16secs over 3 hours and that rankled. Had I not queued for so long at the loo and just gone in the bushes like everyone, else or had I not lingered for quite so long behind, the lycra clad butt, of the very fit guy dressed as Slash pushing a wheelchair or had I not stopped to chat along the way then I could have done it, THEN! However it is now four years later, I am four years fatter and four years ‘unfitterer’ (as the KS1 Kids would say) and most telling of all I am four years older. The GNR this year will be the week before my 55^th birthday and to be perfectly honest here, I am truly out of shape at the moment. Whereas in 2012 I was out pounding the roads from January 1^st this time I have been tardy. You see in my head, a place no one should venture, I know I can do it, I know what is involved, I know that at the very least I could power walk it round the hilly precipices of the North East and get a reasonable time. Yet I also know I don’t just want to do that. I want to do the best I can and if possible I want to beat my own time. Anyone who has ever played any competitive game with me or even a game of snap will know that I am competitive, I like to win or at least go down singing, giving up is not in my psyche neither is letting people down.

Ah yes letting people down! That leads me very nicely onto my motivation. It is as it has been and as it always will be one thing, one reason, one person that motivates me. Yes you’ve guessed it my Raison d’etre, my love, my life, my Moon and Stars, for him I will, as last time, do it. To that end I have now quite late in the year, finally got my ass in gear and been out pounding the pavements. I have done three short ‘runs’ so far and as of today I have decided that it is time to resurrect this blog to serve as a record, prompt, incentive to myself to keep going. I will again be running for the Muscular Dystrophy Campaign or Muscular Dystrophy UK as it now called, www.musculardystrophyuk.org who as you know are the charity working to support patients, campaign for change, fund research and raise awareness of this condition which affects my Raison d’etre.

This from my blog of 4 years ago explains the charity;

MD is a cruel disease that afflicts my Moon and Stars, for him it is a slow progressive degeneration of the muscles in his legs. He is slowly being robbed of the ability to walk and although to all intents and purposes he looks healthy and still manages to maintain a relatively normal lifestyle he does have great difficulty walking and can fall at any given moment without warning or reason. He has adapted to this very well and has developed a nifty way of rolling as although he cannot prevent the fall once it begins, he does tend to do it in slow motion thus allowing him to deploy his tried and tested fall/roll/catch system.

The MD campaign are a small charity but charged with a huge task as there are over 40 different types of the disease. Muscular dystrophy is a group of inherited disorders that involve muscle weakness and loss of muscle tissue, which get worse over time and as an inherited conditions, they are passed down through families. They may occur in childhood or adulthood. There are many different types of muscular dystrophy. They include:

·         Becker muscular dystrophy

·         Duchenne muscular dystrophy

·         Emery-Dreifuss muscular dystrophy

·         Facioscapulohumeral muscular dystrophy

·         Limb-girdle muscular dystrophy

·         Myotonia congenita

·         Myotonic dystrophy

The type that we are dealing personally with is Becker muscular dystrophy and although it is an inherited condition in most cases, ours is not. The doctors say that my Raison d’etre has a mutated gene that has caused the condition. So I often refer to him as my middle-aged mutant ninja. I laugh at him a lot but I don’t ever make light of his condition as I know that because of it our future together may be limited. It will certainly be restricted, but you see folks, I adore the man so if I have to carry him on my back I will but for now I will just get up put on my trainers and go for runs - when I don’t want to, when it hurts, when the dammed GPS doesn’t work - because I can as my legs work and although they are old and short and reluctant they are still in working order.

So how am I doing? How was my run today? Ok and not too bad would be my responses to those questions. Now that my ass is geared up and my mind set is awakened I actually don’t feel bad. I dragged my sorry old self out of bed at just gone 6am and got out for a meander. I had already decided the route I would take.

On my two previous runs I had simply pootled down to Hyde Park corner and shuffled back along Victoria Road. That is a quick ‘round the block’ kind of run so I decided to go a little more scenic today and took myself up North Grange Road and down by The Ridge across North Lane up Shaw Lane and back along Headingley Lane.

This proved to be quite a favourable trundle as Spring has sprung and all around there were trees shouting their beauty  and popping up all about are the harbingers of glories to come- Bluebells. I love Bluebells they are beautiful flowers and there is no greater joy in a British spring than wandering through a Bluebell wood, carpeted as they so often are in the delicate drops of this oh so glorious flower.

So it was with an increasing belief that I completed a short, but emotionally big, run that brought me home and straight to the computer to restart this blog. I hope you will journey again with me and if you can spare a bob or two then please go to my just giving page https://www.justgiving.com/Janet-Lewis3 and pledge what ever you can in support of my endeavours and this most worthwhile of charities.

THANK YOU