Sunday evening and so tired I can barely put one finger infront of the other on the keyboard. This week I have done two things I've never done before and the word Fart has made an appearance in both of them. Last week I made a promise to read the Sunday papers before the following Sunday (nearly achieved - read most of it within 12 hours of it landing on the doormat then the Culture section languished on the bedroom floor for 7 days), have 2 AFDs in a row (big tick for Monday and Tuesday and then another on Friday as a result of too much on Thursday) and go for 3 runs which I also managed if you count today as the last day of the week and not the first of next week. Naturally next week I'll have to include it as the first day of the week to get that tally up too.
So, this week I have been fartlek-ing which, for those of you who are as clueless as me, is the Swedish word for torture. I had hit a running rut and all the helpful websites suggested a bit of speed work. This sounded great because the reward for a burst of speed is a gentle amble to get your breath back. Now I understand why. I ran so fast in the fast bits that my legs felt they would get tangled up in eachother - actually a technical impossibility as they're too short. And the slow bits weren't great either because your heart is bursting through your scalp. I suppose strictly-speaking this isn't the first time I've 'fartleked' because I think I may have tried it around 17 years ago (approximately) but now I realise why I left a 17 year gap between one session and the next. Still, I have to feel pretty smug because I've fartleked twice this week. Today I had to fit in my third run so went with a friend who is taller, thinner and much fitter than me. Like much much fitter. Still, it was nice to have someone talk to me for 40 minutes while I tried to breathe.
And so to my boy twin who has had a little trouble with his movements and hence the second new thing I did this week. I have done what no-one wants to do and have put a suppository up a 2 year old's bottom thus inducing much farting from him and much guilt from me. Ironic that I have been full of beans fartleking and he has been full of baked beans to make him fart.
There have been other little achievements this week too. I challenged the Monkey to a walk to the beacon in advance of the Jubilee Beacon Lighting when we'd have to get him up that hill somehow (v v steep and long) but I may have challenged him too hard thinking there was no way on earth he'd do it. He didn't complain at all until he got to the top and then declared he was "never ever going to do this again, ever!" and the "my heart is breaking " when he was nearly at the bottom. So the big achievement has backfired because he was so traumatised we'll probably have to piggy back him up there on June 4th.
This week I'm off to Denmark which is somewhere I've never been so that's something else ticked off already.
Skol! As they say in Copenhagen....