T-2 Months

It’s all getting a bit too real.

A small set of things that have happened this week:

  • I ran twenty miles for the first time
  • I did my first photoshoot for donors of £50 or more
  • I received my running shirt for the race
  • I ran without a pad under the ball of my foot for the first time since the morning of the stiff toe

It seems that this thing is really happening.

I can cover the distance. I have a shirt. And I’ve successfully trained through my first injury, only missing a single training day. (Assuming that I don’t wake up with a case of stiff toe tomorrow).

We are now two months from the start line … and one month before a costume decision is made, and donations no longer count towards what I’ll wear on the day.

Support me.

Fit at forty


Previously on the Big Bad Blog, I signed up for a marathon.

This clearly is insufficient for me. I’m turning forty this year, which means I have something to prove — and I cannot wait all the way to next year to prove it. Luckily for me, there’s a race near to my birthday.

It’s called the Urban Rush, which features me starting a run at 9am at the Olympic Park in Stratford and, well, running home.

So this midlife crisis type thing that has me signing up for marathons has moved up its schedule. A shorter distance, but sooner. And I’ll be running towards home, where friends will be waiting in the pub to celebrate my 40th with me. Life could get worse.

And if you want to give me a birthday present, you can help by supporting my run, by supporting Shelter.

(Above: me, at my first race. I’m the one in the pushchair.)

The morning coffee, chemistry, and pumpkin heads.

We here at the morning coffee have a new favourite chemical.

(photo of Carlos Estrada of Santa Rosa, California. Taken by Kent Porter.)

Police in Boulder, Colorado decided that participation in a traditional naked-pumpkin-run would result in being arrested as a sex offender this year, apparently despite everybody else in Boulder (including the mayor and city council) disagreeing with them.

Workpoop is a new calculator which will tell you how much you are paid for your bowel movements. Is there no question the Internet cannot answer?


I think there’s a name for this

I believe they call it “biting off more than you can chew.”
My planned “to do” list for this evening is as follows:

Write a blog article.
Write a second blog article.
Write a third blog article.
Finish editing photos from the birthday bowlioke bonanza.
Sort through photos from Karen’s 10k race last Sunday.
Take another self portrait, regarding the state of the tache.
Eat dinner.
Sit on the sofa, staring at the screen like a zombie, while sipping scotch.
Go to sleep before ten.

Given the state of my brain at present, I am going to stick with the last two. And, apparently, the first one.