There’s nowt as queer as boat-folk.

I didn’t have access to a computer whilst I was in the UK so it was of course difficult to blog.

The summer was uneventful, light and pretty.  My mum was seconded to London to work for the Olympics so my daughter and I hung out on her canal boat for about 6 weeks.

She had moved marina’s. Usually she resides in Scarisbrick Marina, not far from Southport but on account of engine failure (because it is of course like the Starship Enterprise) she couldn’t get back there after having taken it to Tarleton to get the bottom scraped and painted. So she drifted into Rufford Marina.

I really like Rufford Marina.  It’s ‘boaty’ – canal art everywhere, even inside the cafe.  Canal art is paintings of things like roses and watermice, painted with canal boat colours – so usually dark greens, blues, blacks, yellows…my mum’s boat is none of these – hers is pink.  And it is fab.  It reflects her creed.  She is so strong and feisty, I think that she is going to be here for ever.  At least, I hope so.

I managed to catch up with some old friends from the past during my time at home.  It was wonderful to see how we have all changed and grown.  Thanks to the awesome power of social networking it was easy to keep in touch.

I exercised a lot whilst I was there.  Walking everywhere, using public transport, and of course my Jillian Michael dvd.  But most of all, what I loved the most, was running.  I say running, what I actually do is probably more of a shuffle.  And as I am so tired as I type this now, I cannot fathom it even in thought.

Whilst I was out running, I came across different things in the environment that really would affect my running, my mind.  For example, I saw a huge, yellow digger with enormous treads and it made me realize how I was feeling – just like the digger, moving slowly and heavily through the mud, my legs feeling heavy, almost dragging on the ground…not very pleasant at all.

Then my mind has to remember: running is 80% psychology and 20% physical.  Plus the 3P’s…patience, patience, patience.

I have this tendency to start off at a really good pace, then die about half way through.  I don’t stop too much of the time.  I read an article about running which said that really you shouldn’t be afraid of walking mid run.  It doesn’t mean that you are weak at all.

So now, I am back in the sand pit awaiting more physical adventures..


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