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Nanow ow ow, bloody ow!
Nov. 6th, 2013 11:11 pmStart: 11,781
Day 4: 16,067
Day 5: 17,608, total of 1541 words but I went to bed before blogging about it.
Day 6 so far: 0 and likely to stay at that.
Helps:
* Stereo cats snuggling against me as I write.
* Leftover Maltesers from Halloween: the promised mass of local zombies was two kids and a dog. I have reaped the benefits of my own generosity.
Hindrances:
* Work, and the need to sleep if I am to be the least bit effective at work. Having come up with one plan to save lots of money, I've been asked to come up with another. The second one involves far more compromises, so I am doing a mock-up mag to show why it might save cash, but it will look like poo. At the same time as doing an actual mag that we will publish so real people can read it.
* My arse. I have a lot of small issues with muscle tightness around my hips, mostly from having my pelvis bashed by the bonnet of a two-tonne taxi back in the 90s and having it never go back to exactly its former position. Usually this is not a major problem.
This week, in addition to giving everything a bit of a bash when I came off my bike last Friday, and having Mr B decide that we are now on a regular running programme and me having to actually run the whole time we are out running rather than being a semi-jogging dog fancier, they have blocked off my favourite back-roads route on the first part of my ride to work. Instead of a nice easy uphill, downhill, up, down, up, down, up bit with no traffic, I have a choice of two steepish hills, one leading to a horrible main road, one leading to a good cycling street. Obviously I choose the latter, but they are also doing roadwork on that road, which means that they have taken a narrow two-way single lane street and made it into an alternating one-way system controlled by lollipop people.
So to cycle up this, you do the 300m of mixed path and street from my house to the train station, which is all quite fine, then get to the lollipop person just in time to hit the start of a STOP. You wait there for two minutes while the cars come the other way, chatting with the nice lollipop person (mostly young Irish girls or lads from the country), say thanks when they change over, cognizant of the fact there are now six cars behind you, none of whom will wish to GO SLOW as the lollipop sign demands, fang it up a hill in a medium gear for maximum speed on an uphill start, then hit the roundabout at which you technically have right of way but at which you know that half the muppets coming straight down from Newtown will just fang through, still with six cars behind you, all wanting to overtake you on the roundabout, and only being restrained from doing so by the fact you are still moving at quite a lot of speed despite this all being in the first 900m from home before your middle-aged lady muscles have really warmed up at all.
As a result, I have come in from tonight's run with the muscles going down the outside of my right hip and arse (gluteus minimus and quadratus femoris? I used to know all this crap back when I was a proper athlete!) aching like … I would say the buggery, but I feel certain that in a responsible adult that would involve lubricant and consent. Aching like the muscles of an old lady who is not half as fit as she once was. So I am going to have a bath and go to bed! I will write extra words on the weekend, which looks as though it will be wet, wet, wet, and thus well suited to sitting inside with a laptop :-)
Day 4: 16,067
Day 5: 17,608, total of 1541 words but I went to bed before blogging about it.
Day 6 so far: 0 and likely to stay at that.
Helps:
* Stereo cats snuggling against me as I write.
* Leftover Maltesers from Halloween: the promised mass of local zombies was two kids and a dog. I have reaped the benefits of my own generosity.
Hindrances:
* Work, and the need to sleep if I am to be the least bit effective at work. Having come up with one plan to save lots of money, I've been asked to come up with another. The second one involves far more compromises, so I am doing a mock-up mag to show why it might save cash, but it will look like poo. At the same time as doing an actual mag that we will publish so real people can read it.
* My arse. I have a lot of small issues with muscle tightness around my hips, mostly from having my pelvis bashed by the bonnet of a two-tonne taxi back in the 90s and having it never go back to exactly its former position. Usually this is not a major problem.
This week, in addition to giving everything a bit of a bash when I came off my bike last Friday, and having Mr B decide that we are now on a regular running programme and me having to actually run the whole time we are out running rather than being a semi-jogging dog fancier, they have blocked off my favourite back-roads route on the first part of my ride to work. Instead of a nice easy uphill, downhill, up, down, up, down, up bit with no traffic, I have a choice of two steepish hills, one leading to a horrible main road, one leading to a good cycling street. Obviously I choose the latter, but they are also doing roadwork on that road, which means that they have taken a narrow two-way single lane street and made it into an alternating one-way system controlled by lollipop people.
So to cycle up this, you do the 300m of mixed path and street from my house to the train station, which is all quite fine, then get to the lollipop person just in time to hit the start of a STOP. You wait there for two minutes while the cars come the other way, chatting with the nice lollipop person (mostly young Irish girls or lads from the country), say thanks when they change over, cognizant of the fact there are now six cars behind you, none of whom will wish to GO SLOW as the lollipop sign demands, fang it up a hill in a medium gear for maximum speed on an uphill start, then hit the roundabout at which you technically have right of way but at which you know that half the muppets coming straight down from Newtown will just fang through, still with six cars behind you, all wanting to overtake you on the roundabout, and only being restrained from doing so by the fact you are still moving at quite a lot of speed despite this all being in the first 900m from home before your middle-aged lady muscles have really warmed up at all.
As a result, I have come in from tonight's run with the muscles going down the outside of my right hip and arse (gluteus minimus and quadratus femoris? I used to know all this crap back when I was a proper athlete!) aching like … I would say the buggery, but I feel certain that in a responsible adult that would involve lubricant and consent. Aching like the muscles of an old lady who is not half as fit as she once was. So I am going to have a bath and go to bed! I will write extra words on the weekend, which looks as though it will be wet, wet, wet, and thus well suited to sitting inside with a laptop :-)
