Juneathon – Day 1

Last night, all excited about taking part in my first Juneathon, I diligently set my alarm to wake me 45 mins earlier than usual, so that I could go for a plod before work, before the heat of the day, and before I changed my mind.  

As I settled down to sleep, my mind slowly drifted into dreams.  First I imagined the pretty route I would take.  The choices of going through the park, or sticking to the roads and admiring peoples gardens merged into one beautiful journey in my head.  But then the dream turned to nightmare.  Would I even be able to plod along without collapsing in a heap?  After all, I haven’t plodded for ten weeks, so I probably wouldn’t fly through the streets of London without sounding like I was having some kind of respiratory attack.  Still, it would be my first Juneathon, so whatever I did would count.  As my dreams turned to deep sleep, the night passed.  When I awoke, I would be a Juneathoner.

I slept through the alarm.

Actually, that’s not strictly true.  I woke at 6am to the cheery tones of the dustbin man smashing about in my front garden collecting the roads worth of rubbish right outside my window.  Too early to get up I decided to snooze for a while until the alarm buzzed me awake at the appropriate time.  It buzzed…  I pressed snooze, just another 5 minutes then I’ll get up I told myself. 

Eight minutes later, the buzzer came again.  So did the hand whacking the snooze button.  Again, and again and again.  Until, oopsydaisy, it was 8am and time to get up for work without any time to do any kind of exercise other than run to the kitchen to grab a cup of tea before speeding to the shower then dashing out the house to work, already running late.

“That OK” I thought as I ran to the bus stop, “I’ll go for a plod after work.  That won’t be too bad, I’ll still get in some exercise and do my bit for today, and then I can get up early tomorrow instead and go for a plod before work.”  Then I looked at the diary and realised I was having my hair cut after work, so going for a plod probably wasn’t the best idea.  “But it’s Juneathon” I reasoned with myself, “you can’t fail on day one, you’re just going to have to have a plod when you get home whether you ruin your newly blow-dried hair or not.”

So that’s why I’m here blogging at 10pm at night.  I did plod when I got home.  In fact, I rather surprised myself.  Having not strapped on the fancy Garmin or plugged in the iPlod for such a long time, I really did think that I’d get once around the block and give up, but I didn’t do too badly.  OK, some of you Juneathoners will think this is rather lame, but I managed 3.5k in 25mins.  Bearing in mind that included some of the walk/run combo, I’m rather pleased with myself.  Not only that, the thermometer thingy outside the local taxi office said it was 23c, so I’m going to give myself a pat on the back.   Sadly my hair isn’t so thrilled.  Having been blow-dried to perfection by celebrity stylist Mathew, I now look like a frizzy frazzled fur ball. 

 Furball

 ‘Till the next time

xoxo

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~ by BlobbyJogger on 1 June, 2009.

2 Responses to “Juneathon – Day 1”

  1. Hooray for Juneathoners!

  2. Great work on the plod after hours and keep it up 😀

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