The week the world shattered

This is the week the world shattered around me. As such, running has not been on my mind. After last week, I was determined and ready to make more effort. I was going to surprise you all with my dedication and miles of achievement, this did not happen. I am sorry. Let me explain why…

On Monday I was focused, I stepped out for my run and with every brain cell I was committed to run an easy 5 miler. My body did not agree. Together, my mind and body achieved 2.5 miles. But something’s better than nothing right?!

Unable to shower, due to the boiler still being out of action, I decided to get up early and go swimming, which would also allow me the chance to shower.

With another cold night, I work up cold and angry. I partly blame the hormones for this mood but I mostly blame the boiler.

Now, when I get this angry I should be put in a padded cell, I am a danger to society! I have this fear that one day, I might actually lose it! I worry I will go mental on a packed tube and the police have to come and then the men in white coats turn up and they want me to go quietly, which I do, or at least if quietly means thrashing about like a wild dog and kicking and screaming. People will stare and try to get out of the way of the crazy lady, at the same time as recording me on their phones, ready to post it on youtube! Sometimes I think maybe that wouldn’t be so bad (not the youtube bit), I wouldn’t have to pay bills any more or work or commute or worry about not having a job and I’d be looked after by doctors who just want to hear me talk about rainbows and unicorns and they would give me drugs and I’d get to live in a big house in the country and never have to deal with hormones or running or boilers again. But then I realise I would be embarrassed if I freaked out on the train and perhaps it’s not a good idea after all.

It’s a bit like when you’re angry and someone is walking really slowly down the platform in front of you and no matter what you try you can’t get past them and you start to feel like they are doing it on purpose, so you get annoyed and force your way past them and think, yeah take that you slow person and then they are nice and apologise for being in the way and you feel like a terrible person and want to cry. Or when someone takes the last seat and you want to kill them and start to throw dagger eyes at them but then they look up and offer you the seat and you have to say ‘no no, I’m fine standing thanks’ and then you turn the opposite way for the entire journey.

So any way, Tuesday morning I woke up in this delicate mental state, cold and smelling. I scurried around the flat to find some food and attempted to locate some dry clothes. Of course all the clothes I had got out the wash 3 days earlier had refused to dry in such a cold flat, I tried to encourage them by aiming the hair dryer for ten minutes in their direction but it did no good. Dirty clothes again then!  

I dragged my depressed ass to the swimming pool. Going swimming when you are tired and cold and pissed off is perhaps not the best plan. I was half way through my swim, mentally preparing the email I would be sending the landlady, when an old woman got in the pool. I swear she was wearing a nightdress and a pink knitted head band! I’m telling you, it was weird! She was also smacking chewing gum, in the pool! Why would you do this in the pool! She got in, held her arms out like wings and walked in a circle. Which was of course in my way, I just wanted to do a few lengths, why do the crazies always have to get in my lane?! She then proceeded to swim 3 strokes, turn in a giant circle, swim 3 strokes back and then stand up in the middle of the pool. She was in the pool for all of 6 minutes, her nightie had gone mostly see through and yes, I think she was naked under there! She waved at the lifeguard as though he were her long lost son and with that she was gone. She reminded me of the crazy lady on the advert for Shutter Island, the one who holds her finger to her mouth to keep a secret. Also, disturbingly she had a weird blood red mark on her bum which looked like a bullet wound and as though it was bleeding. I got out of the pool not long after that.

Finally getting the hot shower I so needed, I was beginning to chill out but then of course, once my hair was filled with shampoo and my body covered in shower gel, the shower stopped working. Like any sophisticated, mature women who isn’t controlled by her emotions, I handled this well. I flew into a full on temper tantrum. I started slapping the shower head and the wall, stomping my feet and muttering under my breath. I think I even looked to the ceiling and started wailing ‘why me, whyyy’. 

Eventually, gaining enough self control I wrapped my self in my towel, gathered up my potions and lotions and shuffled into the next cubicle, where the shower actually worked. 

When I was done, the shower wouldn’t turn off! So I folded my self into the corner to save my towel from getting wet and attempted to dry my self. The shower eventually stopped so I made full use of the cubicle. Just as I wrapped the towel around my body, the shower started again and soaked my towel. For fucks sake! And this was all before 9 am on Tuesday!

Things got worse on Wednesday, the good news was the boiler was fixed, the bad news was housemate emailed the landlady and she flipped out and has now given us 30 days to vacate the premises. Did I also mention Wednesday was the last day of my contract job and I have failed in securing another job? So no job, no flat and lots of lovely debt, yeah I’m fine, fine! I was too depressed to run on Wednesday.

The half marathon badge number and pack has arrived, I have a week to go and 6ish weeks to the full marathon. I’d avoid getting on public transport with me for the time being!