June 18, 2014

Uborka! Running Club

Just over a week ago, I took the train into Reading and ran back along the A329 to home, which google maps told me was 8 miles, but turned out to be 6.5. As I left the station, the wide pavement with its gentle downhill slope inspired my legs to move a little too fast, and I bounced like Tigger through the first couple of miles, occasionally thinking to myself how much fun this was. I didn’t even have my headphones in.

I wasn’t looking forward to the uphill section past the shops in Earley, but it was all so interesting that I powered up the slope and only near the top did I start to wonder if I had taken on too much. I still had a long way to go, especially as I still had 8 miles in my head and RunKeeper was only showing that I’d done about 3.

I passed Earley station with only the fleeting thought that I could give up and get the train home; the thought lingered a little longer at Winnersh Triangle, but by the time I reached Winnersh I could see Sainsburys and knew that I was back on familiar territory and less than two miles from home. Unfortunately the rest was both boring and uphill, so any thought of adding on an extra mile and a half jaunt to bring the total up to my target of 8 miles was quickly abandoned and I just headed for home and two showers.

I was so disappointed at the distance that I didn’t go out again for nearly a week. My longest run so far has been 7.5 miles, also on a hot day, and I have completely failed my target to run 8 miles by May. I’m still aiming for a half marathon in February but starting to wonder if that’s remotely possible, as it’s taken months just to add two miles to my distance. Not sure my legs can do it. Or my mind.

Karen
  • Comments: 6
  • Spoke too soon and back on the ice :( - Lisa
  • I walked all round the cheshire show yesterday and didn't need to ice my foot afterwards, ... - Lisa
  • There's a half right on my doorstep.... - Karen
  • Believe. Honestly. If you can run 8 miles - which I reckon you can - then you can do a... - swisslet
  • Having finally made it to 10k+ (a whole 600 meters plus) I am wondering too how on earth t... - Cat_knits
June 16, 2014

Sick Day

Remember when you were a kid and you didn’t feel 100% but you weren’t quite sure if that meant you were genuinely sick and could get a day off, or if you would have to play it up a bit? And so you put on the croaky voice and try to look pale, and your mum looked all kind and sympathetic, and tucked you up in bed with a nice glass of lemon squash and a good book? And when your dad came home he brought magazines for you to read? And the next day you were still off and if you felt a bit better you could get up and lie on the sofa and watch telly in the afternoon? And you’d start to feel bored and grotty and eventually be grateful to go back to school?

Remember that?

Here’s what it’s really like. Parents generally have no idea if these low-level coughs and colds are for real. We have to figure it out based on how much more than usual the kid is sleeping, and it’s so hard to detect genuine whininess when whine is their standard mode of communication. Kids’ foreheads feel hot all the time, and they get very lethargic when they don’t want to do stuff like go to school in the morning, so that doesn’t tell you anything.

If you send them to school you feel bad all day and worry about them until hometime, then let them lie on the sofa and bring them drinks and biscuits.

If you keep them home, you give calpol which perks them up a bit and then they start playing normally and claiming to feel fine even though you keep saying “are you warm enough?” “are you drinking enough?” Then they don’t eat any lunch so you realise you were right to keep them home because it was cheese and biscuits and they love that. You let them lie on the sofa and play on their tab at the same time as watching tedious tear-jerking animated movies, and tuck them up with a blanket. At half past three they ask if they can go round and play at their friend’s house and you just laugh, coldly.

And you spend the day pottering about, unable to leave the house, unable to focus on anything much, doing petty chores and refreshing facebook. The hours drag, to the soundtrack of Minion Rush and Disney orchestras. You try to calculate whether, dosed up on calpol, they could get through school the next day and free you up to go to a meeting. And then you feel guilty. Whatever you do, you end up feeling guilty.

Karen
  • Comments: 4
  • I will have a June Bug because it sounds palatable. Real June Bugs freak me out.... - asta
  • Ugh! Though given I'm supposed to be off sugar, eating limited brown carbs and plenty of p... - Pigwotflies
  • In 50 years I doubt I'll be able to eat solids. But I'll be able to knock back my regul... - Sevitz
  • If it weren't vile, I'd now ask for a pint of Grasshopper cocktail. But it's minging, s... - Lyle
  • Comments: 5
  • ;) - Lisa
  • Well that's a phrase that takes on a life of its own when out of context. - Pete
  • I tried to blow it but it seems quite stuck - Lisa
  • Well quite, am I supposed to be doing something? Like a little VFT butler? - Pete
  • ...and then the dessicated corpse lies there for weeks - Lisa
June 11, 2014

A Well-Fed Snappy

snappy_fed

Since we welcomed Snappy III to Casa Uborka back in March, I’m not sure that I’ve witnessed hum catch and digest any flies. Imagine my relief to witness this silhouette!

Meanwhile, Lisa‘s VFT, which I met the other week, is doing far better. No picture, I’m afraid, but imagine a Venus Fly Trap with all its traps full, and a queue of flies leading around the block, while a woodlouse in a long black coat and sunglasses checks his clipboard to see if they’re on the guest list.

Pete
  • Comments: 4
  • Look, I found Snappy I!... - Karen
  • Oh yes. Will have to make it a label. - Lisa
  • Honey! - Pete
  • It is green not red though. And I have forgotten its name. - Lisa

Just a normal weekday morning

4.30am The birds start to sing. I reach for my eyemask and wish I had earplugs too. At some point, Pete shoos the cat off the windowsill where she is taunting a cackling magpie.

6.00am I notice that our bedroom door hasn’t been closed yet, which means Bernard isn’t up.

7.00am The radio comes on. Our door still hasn’t been closed. Bernard rarely sleeps past seven, and this usually means a battle to get him out of bed for breakfast. Unless…

7.10am I go and wake him, and invite him for a cuddle. He brings a large menagerie of soft toys, climbs into the middle of our bed, and commences a critical examination of any of his parents’ body parts which are available to him. Dad’s bristles go all the way to his neck!

7.20am I can’t stand him wriggling around anymore and send him to get dressed. As is his way, he chooses to do something different.

7.21am Ugh, there’s something soft on the stairs and I stood in it! Turns out that the cat got her revenge on Pete by vomiting in several places. Pete cleans the stairs, I clean the child.

7.30am Breakfast, at the usual time.

Karen
  • Comments: 3
  • I want to know why B gets up and shuts your door? Seems unusually considerate. - Lisa
  • Ah, domestic bliss. - Lyle
  • Fortunately, we don't get the cat vomit EVERY day. - Pete
June 6, 2014

Bar’s Open

This weekend we’re going to a food festival, so today it’s food festival cocktails. What stall would you run at the Uborka! Festival of Food? I’m going to have a bread stall, and drink Pimms until I’m too drunk to give the right change, and then go to sleep under the awning.

Help yourselves!

Karen
  • Comments: 9
  • Heh, "anal" - Lyle
  • Oooh Asta, I think you have a business plan! I would pay over the odds for your artisanal ... - Lisa
  • Asta, do you have recipes for those? I too want to make artisanal biscuits. - Karen
  • Like Graybo I've worked one of these stalls. I'm not setting up anything that can melt, ... - asta
  • CAKE. (No running.) (Caipirinha.) - Lisa