For those of you who follow my blog, you’ll know I’m a fledgling runner.  I’ve talked about how tough I’ve found it but also how it’s finally paying dividends and the weight is slowly but surely coming off.  I’m not a lean, mean running machine (yet) … but it’s a start. 

Well today Houston, we have a problem, because instead of pounding the pavements of Medway, I’m sat here on the sofa eating a cream filled chocolate éclair, strawberries and cream and finding the trashiest TV I can find to watch.


My routine has changed this week and it’s put a right spanner in the works.  I had gotten into the routine of running every other night once I’d put my youngest to bed and it would mean I’d come home, have dinner, run,  have a bath, put PJ’s on and watch TV.  Rock and roll baby!!  But said man has started a new job this week and is now working away.

Oh bumholes.

As hard as it is for all of the family, we just have to get on with it but now everything falls to me.  Arranging childcare, doing a full day at work, doing dinner, the housework, homework with the children, preparing for the next day.  I’m sure most of you know the story, right?  So when am I exactly meant to fit running in?  I go to bed exhausted, wake up exhausted and do my best to not look exhausted during the day.

But of course what I’m really doing is making excuses.

“Procrastination is the name of the game, and I wanna play the game with you!”

There is time in my day to go running, even if it’s at 6am before I do the school run, or 8pm once my evening chores are done.  But you know what?  I don’t want to do it.  For the first few days after my Other Half has gone away, all I ever want to do is just veg and feel sorry for myself.  I want to eat chocolate and hibernate under the duvet.  I want to spend an hour in the bath playing Bejewled Blitz.  I want to drink tea and dunk biscuits.  What  I don’t want to do is go out into the cold and go running – it’s too hard.  I just don’t have the strength this week.

Knowing this is what I tend to get like every time he goes away gives me peace.  I know this phase will pass and yes, I may put a few pounds on during this period but it wont last.  I will get back out there and hit the mean streets of Kent … just not now … The Hairy Bikers are on and my tea’s gone cold.

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Published by Kate Sutton

Writer, Mother, Dater.