Motivation for fatcats and possibly for chumlies of Fatcats!

Right ho! Top of satdee morning to you all. Day 26 of the great dry and the reason I don't drink at the moment became clear to me this morning when I sprang out of bed before 8 in the am-unheard of! All my bitching and moaning about missing rum (and I do) fell by the way side as I realised I felt sprightly and gleefully in hungover. I looked across to the paramour, who lay crumpled with nowt but his Gloria Swanson face mask visible and I suddenly felt a burst of EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

I decided to capitalise on this by heading out for a long slow run, whereapon I got lost once again, but I didn't care because it's a beautiful day, mild and almost sunny, and I feel good.
But firstly.
The week.

Sunday, a skippity hoppity poodley 10 k run, slow and peaceful, listening to Ray Montagne, coveting homes and gardens. Nice.

Monday short 6k, but that wasn't the best bit, oh no, not by a LONG shot. I have found a new way of torturing myself. it is called skipping and I highly recommend it and also fear it. I took myself off mid loop to the Band Stand in Bushy Park where I did skip until I had completed 600 revolutions. Then-gasping for air- I put my rope back into my fanny pack and ran home. Then I walked to my pappy-in-laws- house to drop him off a jumper and back home, a further 2k of calf singing.


Wednesday-I walked to Rathmines and back. About 10k.

Thursday- I was pretty chained to the desk on thursday but I did a lot of stretching and yoga mid-day. Which made me really sleepy for some reason, also I am attempting to do a handstand. Can you do a handstand? I can't. I am as clumsy as a two-toed spider. But I'll master it, oh yes.

Friday-Skippy skippy, another 1000 + 20 by accident. Hard work. But terrific fun, so many variations.

TODAY! I ran a wonderful 15k, no twinges, no aches, no niggly pains and aches. Felt hella strong on the way home. Off now for breaky.