I already had a one-hour run scheduled for this evening with my friend, so thought I'd go for a gentle ramble with my man for a couple of hours beforehand, given the weather is absolutely glorious, especially for almost-October. The problem is, 'we' got a little lost. 'Our' GPS mini bike-computer thing, wasn't very good at estimating distance. I had to stop taking photos, stop picking blackberries and get a power-walk going for the last 45 minutes. I was shattered by the time we got into the car, though we managed to be only 20 minutes late returning for my run.
I ate a very calorific chocolate bar and then headed straight back out convinced I'd be fine! I 'ran' while chatting all the way (lungs were fine), though I had to slow down and walk many more times than usual as my legs protested noisily. No, it wasn't my lungs that were the problem. It was most definitely the legs. And I am now typing this into my blog, because my legs are talking to me, telling me how much they hurt. I wish they would suffer in silence. I suspect they might be happier if I resort to granny-posture and raise my feet up on a cushion in front of me.
Maybe I'll go do that right now. Yes. Off I go.
the random ponderings of an ordinary person
Friday 30 September 2011
Thursday 29 September 2011
Kindness
And another I have no reference for.
I liked this one a lot because it's exactly how I've always judged my bosses. Not sure about the image, though as I look closer, I find that I am sucked in a little by the cuteness of the teensy weensy wittle wabbit. :-)
I liked this one a lot because it's exactly how I've always judged my bosses. Not sure about the image, though as I look closer, I find that I am sucked in a little by the cuteness of the teensy weensy wittle wabbit. :-)
Let's eat grandma!
For those of you on Facebook, you'll have seen this already, but I felt it was important enough (in my world anyway) to merit an additional sharing route! :-)
PS Not sure of the original source, so if anyone knows, let me know and I'll reference it.
Monday 26 September 2011
Siamese twin-mushrooms
PS With reference to my previous post 'Mushrooms' on Thursday 15 September, the operation to separate them was performed successfully early on the morning of Friday 16 September, immediately prior to a breakfast of toast with eggs.*
* plus mushrooms - shhhh
* plus mushrooms - shhhh
It's almost as if I had a child *already*
Just been food shopping with my (35 year old) man. He got very excited about this pasta. In addition to being the cheapest 500g pack (though not as good value as the 1kg packs of a plainer nature), it is composed of little Scooby-Doo shapes - bones, that woman in it whose name I forget, ghosts and cars, among other things not yet identified through the tiny plastic window on the front of the pack.
It's also organic and tri-colore, 'naturally' coloured by spinach and tomato powder, so also containing a teensy tiny amount of vegetable and fruit. Makes you feel healthier even though it doesn't even come close to the smallest mouthful of one of your five a day...
It's also organic and tri-colore, 'naturally' coloured by spinach and tomato powder, so also containing a teensy tiny amount of vegetable and fruit. Makes you feel healthier even though it doesn't even come close to the smallest mouthful of one of your five a day...
Thursday 15 September 2011
Mushrooms
This post is, as the title suggests, about mushrooms. I've been very busy and it can get stressful if I don't factor in some time to amuse myself. So this is it. The siamese twin mushrooms I found in my fridge. :-)
Monday 5 September 2011
Cwmcarn
Fabulous cycle ride in South Wales, which was a first for me and somewhat scary.
It was a real mental journey as well as a physical one, reminding me of the first few times I went snowboarding where I sat in the snow and cried because I couldn't stand up and move, and when I did I just fell over, on top of which I was exhausted from the physical exertion. This time, thankfully, my bottom didn't make contact with the ground because that would have been painful! It was a tough decision about the height of the saddle to start with, because the right distance from the peddles (to the saddle) meant I couldn't quite touch the ground; and with my toes on the ground it was much harder peddling. Anyway, I settled for easier peddling, assuming I would spend more time with my feet on the peddles than off the peddles (happily correct). It did mean a couple of painful moments with the crossbar (this being my lovely man's bike and not designed for ladies), but I quickly learned to change the way I conducted urgent dismounts.
It was so hard at the start that I began to demoralised myself, telling myself that I wasn't good enough, that I couldn't do it. The constant effort of going up and up, steeply, over big roots and slippery rocks, knowing that I wasn't even half way up. I began to get cross with my defeatest attitude and felt sorry for my patient man having to put up with me. I named that voice 'the evil badger' and spent the rest of the ride trying to banish the badger...and I did. I kept telling myself that not only could I do it, but that I was already doing it.
It's the same with anything in life. You can sit there and feel sorry for yourself, saying it's too hard, or you can't do it; or you can just stop whinging. You then realise that not only are you capable, but that you're so capable that you're already doing it. The only way to not do it, would be to die and few of us really want to take that route. It's a bit too final for most of us.
Anyway, the odd whinge is fine, I reckon, because you let off steam, and you let that little badger speak before he builds up his voice into an overwhelming bellow. But generally I think you have force yourself to cultivate the positive voice, the positive you: "You can do it", "You're already doing it", "You're doing great". That kind of thing - it sounds cheesy, but it got me to the top!
The view was heavenly and the sense of achievement was fantastic - knowing I could only see this view through having cycled it. Of course, downhill was in many ways as hard as uphill, but I was rewarded two more times. Once on the way down, going as fast as I could, I almost forgot I was cycling and it felt like I was flying. My attention was entirely and deeply focused on the narrow track in front of me, not a micro-second anywhere else. It was the best meditation. The second reward was arriving back at the car park. Warmth, chocolate and rest. And of course, all the "Well done's" from my kind and supportive man-person.
It was a real mental journey as well as a physical one, reminding me of the first few times I went snowboarding where I sat in the snow and cried because I couldn't stand up and move, and when I did I just fell over, on top of which I was exhausted from the physical exertion. This time, thankfully, my bottom didn't make contact with the ground because that would have been painful! It was a tough decision about the height of the saddle to start with, because the right distance from the peddles (to the saddle) meant I couldn't quite touch the ground; and with my toes on the ground it was much harder peddling. Anyway, I settled for easier peddling, assuming I would spend more time with my feet on the peddles than off the peddles (happily correct). It did mean a couple of painful moments with the crossbar (this being my lovely man's bike and not designed for ladies), but I quickly learned to change the way I conducted urgent dismounts.
It was so hard at the start that I began to demoralised myself, telling myself that I wasn't good enough, that I couldn't do it. The constant effort of going up and up, steeply, over big roots and slippery rocks, knowing that I wasn't even half way up. I began to get cross with my defeatest attitude and felt sorry for my patient man having to put up with me. I named that voice 'the evil badger' and spent the rest of the ride trying to banish the badger...and I did. I kept telling myself that not only could I do it, but that I was already doing it.
It's the same with anything in life. You can sit there and feel sorry for yourself, saying it's too hard, or you can't do it; or you can just stop whinging. You then realise that not only are you capable, but that you're so capable that you're already doing it. The only way to not do it, would be to die and few of us really want to take that route. It's a bit too final for most of us.
Anyway, the odd whinge is fine, I reckon, because you let off steam, and you let that little badger speak before he builds up his voice into an overwhelming bellow. But generally I think you have force yourself to cultivate the positive voice, the positive you: "You can do it", "You're already doing it", "You're doing great". That kind of thing - it sounds cheesy, but it got me to the top!
The view was heavenly and the sense of achievement was fantastic - knowing I could only see this view through having cycled it. Of course, downhill was in many ways as hard as uphill, but I was rewarded two more times. Once on the way down, going as fast as I could, I almost forgot I was cycling and it felt like I was flying. My attention was entirely and deeply focused on the narrow track in front of me, not a micro-second anywhere else. It was the best meditation. The second reward was arriving back at the car park. Warmth, chocolate and rest. And of course, all the "Well done's" from my kind and supportive man-person.