The time has come for me to put my money where my mouth is. Or perhaps more specifically, where my feet are. In just 6 short days I will be pounding the streets in a turquoise t-shirt, proudly waving the banner for Cancer Research and flexing my running muscles to raise money in my wonderful mom’s honour. It all sounds rather gallant but I suspect the reality will most likely be very different.
I have no doubt that for those happy bystanders who will sensibly nab a viewing spot near the starting line I will look fit as a fiddle. Let’s be honest, as early as mile 5 I will already be sweating a fair amount and 5 miles after that I will look less like a hero and more like Adam Richman at the end of a Man V Food challenge. For those die hard supporters brave enough to grab a pew by the finish line I am afraid to say that they may be confused as to whether it is me or a squashed tomato finishing up the race.
Against all odds however, I will most definitely be running in that race.
My week of training has been rather uneventful. Owing to the aforementioned sentence to "rest" that I was given I have not been overdoing it. Saturday morning in the bright sunshine I boldly went where I had never gone before – 10 miles. I joined the early morning dew, the dog walkers and the Saturday girls and off I went. My sister and I ran through Hertfordshire and ventured further afield than the average Londoner would ever go. For the most part it was a rather delightful run, the sun was shining, the birds were singing and remarkably my sister and I didn’t run out of things to talk about. I guess it just goes to show how much rubbish us Lewis girls can spout off at any given time. Not dissimilar to Eminem my issues started to arise at the 8 Mile mark. My trusty physio had kindly strapped up my foot and strapped on a piece of elastic to my knee which he assured would give me extra support. The problem was that after 9 miles my cradle of elasticity didn’t seem to be cradling much of my foot at all and disappointingly enough my knee wasn’t feeling the love and support I thought we had given it.
That being said, a run is a run and I most certainly ran. I ran all the way and I even survived to tell the tale.
A visit to my physio today has left me with yet another cradled foot and a rather relaxed thigh (what goes on at a physio appointment, stays at a physio appointment) but, I have also been left with a word of warning. Rest. The sprightly Kiwi has prescribed a relaxing week of a swim and possibly stretching myself to a very short run. But that is it.
So with 6 days to go it is time for me to ask for everyone who reads this to cross their fingers and their toes for me. The time is upon me and I could use all the happy thoughts I can get! For those of you who are interested in watching a sweaty tomato with a bad foot finish a half marathon, look no further. I will be making an appearance on the streets of London this Sunday and perhaps if I am really struggling, I may even sing the Locomotion half way...!
Fact of the Blog: About 12 out of every 100 lung cancers diagnosed are Small cell lung cancer. It is called this because the cancer cells are small cells that are mostly filled with the nucleus (the control centre of cells). It is also called oat cell cancer. This type of cancer is usually caused by smoking. It is very rare for someone who has never smoked to develop it. Small cell lung cancer often spreads quite early on and so your doctors may recommend chemotherapy treatment rather than surgery
http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/AmyWoolf
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