Bookishness

Oof, after the last slightly bleak Overly Honest entry, I think I owe this site some sort of  more cheerful update. Relevant to that entry: I’m on antidepressants now and I’m in a far better headspace than I was. Thank you to everyone IRL who is both giving me room to get back on an even keel, but also checking up on me subtly and sweetly. I do notice and I do appreciate it.  Unexpected meds side-effect: I have discovered that I’m of an age where, when I say I’m not drinking at the moment, people give my belly a knowing look and I find myself explaining that I’m not pregnant, actually, that’s just my shape. So that’s fun.

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‘Do not store in direct sunlight’

Last week I bought (yet another) notebook and a lovely skinny pen, and the first thing I did – apart from sketch a thing that could have been a Sunday roast or an arctic roll being frowned at by an angry-looking fish – was write a to-do list on the back page in an effort to get thoughts and deeds in order.

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The loneliness of the long distance walker/runner/writer

I haven’t slept properly for the past four nights and, since I can’t pin the blame on caffeine, stress or much else, I’ve decided that part of the problem might be lack of decent exercise.

The Thursday after the Great North Run, I took myself off up to Scotland for four days alone. I stayed at an incredibly romantic and quite fancy shepherd’s hut (and completely recommend the place). No electricity, so when night started to fall, that was bedtime. After the first day, if I wanted a fire I needed to chop wood; if I wanted water, I had to fetch it from the next field over and slightly up a hill. Point being that even making a cup of tea involved some measure of effort. And I decided, in between reading a lot and writing a bit, to go walking. I bought a map of the area with trails marked on it, and went for a short explore on Thursday evening, and for longer walks on my own (six miles and ten miles each on Friday and Saturday. Sunday was a lazy day involving cake and a dog-sitting for the lovely people I met there).

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The whiniest woman in the west

Pity me. I’ve been struck down in the prime of the bank holiday with some sort of head-achey cold hybrid monster.

I had planned to be up early this morning and run over to Brockwell Lido for a swim. Instead I’ve been lolling around feeling sorry for myself. My throat feels as though it’s got a shard of glass stuck in it, very specifically on the right hand side, at the top. My head has been banging so badly that last night I didn’t sleep at all. Instead I wasted Sunday’s daylight hours asleep on the sofa after painkillers finally kicked in. My nose is running on and off, and my skin feels super-sensitive and sore.  It’s a bit of a let-down as bank holiday weekends go. Continue reading “The whiniest woman in the west”

This is not a miserable diatribe, but it was close

Oh, hi, I didn’t see you there… no, no, don’t mind me. I’m just noting a few things down. I mean, I fully intended to just send you to other people’s writing this weekend, and not do a complete entry, but that’s a cop out, really, isn’t it? So here, have some of the stuff that’s on my mind. Why the hell not. Continue reading “This is not a miserable diatribe, but it was close”

The trick is to keep breathing (sort of)

Good news, everyone! I can train again! I’ve been let off the leash of medical uncertainty and released into the wilds of ‘you can train with due care’, and I can’t wait to run round and chase some PB rabbits and refuse to come back when called. (It takes skill to belabour a metaphor like that. Admire my handiwork, please.) Continue reading “The trick is to keep breathing (sort of)”

I yam what I yam and that’s all what I yam

I read a lot of feminist websites and blogs, and as such my little corner of the internet is completely swamped with articles on body acceptance, HAES (Health at Every Size), fat positivity, loving the skin you’re in and so forth. It has also, more noticeably of recent, started to see a surge in a backlash against those schools of thoughts from people who don’t feel it represents them.* Continue reading “I yam what I yam and that’s all what I yam”