Today in Italy it was Mother’s Day. I’m telling you in case you didn’t know it already, ’cause I’m a Motherlover and I thought it was the right thing to do.
So I phoned my mum on skype as soon as I got home from work and four hours later here I am, still sitting on my couch, still at the laptop, still not gone for a run, still listening to that song. Today in Italy – and in Papua New Guinea too, true story… – it was Mother’s Day and – yeah – that’s pretty much my excuse for not going for a run tonight.
Thanks Charlie. The real reason why I didn’t go though is the fact that the weather in Edinburgh in these days is a little bit adverse.
Yeah, adverse. Which I don’t even know whether it’s a real word or not. Whether. Weather. … I wish I had a funny joke for that but unfortunately I don’t. I may have one soon though but I’ll save it for another occasion. Maybe for that trip to IKEA that I’ve been planning for ages – don’t ask, you’ll never understand.. – or maybe for one of the next posts. Or maybe you can all suggest me one. Just not all at the same time like with the donations please. Anyway, I’m kinda hoping that the weather will stay like this until – and of course – on the day of the Marathon. At least I will have a valid excuse for the miserable performance I will give. Yeah my dear fans, I really said miserable.
Let me explain. As the most attentive of you might have catched during the past few weeks, it does look like I am not really training that much. As for the rest of you – yes, you you! – here I am telling you now loud and clear that as a matter of fact I am not training at all. I’d love to say “enough” – instead of at all – but that would be a lie and if there is one thing I am not, well that is a lier! Am not tall, rich, gifted, smart, beautiful, funny, skilled, well-equipped, tanned, fit, interesting or cultured either but that doesn’t really matter. Also, as the cleverest of you may already know, twenty-six miles aka forty-two kilometres aren’t really a piece of cake. Not even nearly. Twenty-six miles aka forty-two kilometres are a shit load of miles/kilometres and I know I will hate every single one of them. I’m sorry – my dear fans – but it’s probably time for all of us to face the truth. This whole marathon thing is just not really a job I can get my teeth into. I will do it though, but it will hurt. A lot. But still, I will fucking do it!!!
Forget the fact that my knees are fucked. Forget the fact that I drink too much. Forget the fact that I don’t eat healthy food. Forget the fact that I’m not trained enough. Forget the fact that I have doubts myself. Forget the fact that I may go out the night before and sleep in the morning of the marathon. Forget the fact that I don’t even know where the marathon starts. Forget the fact that I don’t even know how to get back home – by ambulance is my fave option though… – . Forget the fact that I still haven’t received neither my number nor the micro-chip. Forget everything. Just remember that I will do it.
But mainly I will do it because you sponsored me, giving money to Save the Children, and there is no fucking way we’ll give you a refund. Nae chance!!!
Nae fucking chance.