Harriette

A bit bored blogging my boring runs. Tomorrow is my second daughter will be 6weeks old. At 17:17 to be precise. There has been a shocking lack of internet space dedicated to her, though there are a fair few pics. Part of the reason is the manner of her arrival. Daughter #1 was a natural birth that knocked Sal around a bit but was all new and novel to both of us. However Harriette Mara was a caeserian and therefore a relative walk in the park. On the name. Mara is Sal's sister's name (Jo, Sal's other sister donated her name to Alexandra Jo.) Harriette was a name that Alex liked and stuck. The spelling is my fault; wasn't sure how to spell it so I stuffed in as many letters as I could get away with. If she wants to drop a few later in life then she can. We call her Harry or Hazza, so it hardly seems to matter. Oh, and the there is this.



Sal went private, so the birth was a bit like checking into a hotel, popping down for a prep and a pop-out and then back to the room. It really was very low stress, although that could have something to do with the discectomy Sal had been through a few weeks previously. Giving birth is, apparently, a piece of piss compared to spinal surgery.

Anyway, back to Harry. She is, so far, a carbon copy of AJ and that is no bad thing. Looks, behaviours, the lot. Just like her big sister she started packing weight on straight away. Already Sal has Harry in a routine and she is (please please please don't let me curse us) waking just once per night for a quick feed. She feeds well, really well. She is damn strong too - well, for a little takka (by the way, that is her nickname, Little Takka) and can lift and hold her head up for quite some time.

Tits! Time for the second run. This post is going to be all a bit back-to-front.

Right, back from run #2 and let's start with #1.

No bathroom or kitchen to use last night, but as I'd showered at lunchtime I did not have to sleep in my own grot. In fact I slept in a bed, what with the painters having finished the bedrooms. I toyed with the idea of taking the dogs for a quick walk to get some dinner, but the big fella is a bit of a handful at the best of times and this is not the best of times for my legs. I quickly fed the hounds and headed out to Pizza hut, not a normal haunt of min, but the nearest source of cheap calories. I bought a large capriciossa and a garlic bread, neither of which touched the sides. Also grabbed a big bottle of Aussie-brewed Guinness because Guinness IS Good For You. The night finished with me ripping as much dead flesh from the bottom of my left little toe as I could and then smearing it with some Scholl foot cream. I crawled into bed thinking I really should put the curtains back up but then fell asleep in the glare of the streetlight.

Toe was acceptable this morning, right leg dodgy. Not so dodgy that it stopped me walking the dogs, and by the time I got home it was warmed up enough. Not that this makes much difference, I was running to work anyway. Not a pleasant experience with the ache no extending from my knee up towards my groin. I suspect the main muscles are so fatigued that all the little ones you don't normally notice are being engaged to help out and it is these that are grumbling. Much as I am grumbling. Sorry dear reader, this is boring me too.

The run to work was the run to work which I've written about enough. To get the extra miles under my belt I headed over top of the Cahill walkway and then into the Botanic gardens where I clicked a couple of poor pictures before making my way to work. The 10km came up in around 14mins slower than my PB for the distance. in fact today I saw that my brother, a newish runner and not a small bloke, is currently as quick as I am. Give it another couple of days and he will be quicker than me.



Right, the plan for the rest of today is to do an early-lunch run and maximise recovery time. The mental struggle is a bastard now.

Run #2 was actually far more pleasant than #1. I think the reason is because once I am out and running I am fairly confident I will get the target distance done. Run #1, if it goes pear-shaped, might mean no run #2, so it is the first run where I am plagued by doubts and then once I am off and moving on the second I am pretty much sorted. And that was the story of today. Left a little before noon in order maximise recovery time before tomorrow. Another cracking, blue sky day. I made no attempt to run at anything other than a short-stride plod, though I have noticed that this means I am about as quick as most other runners I encounter. Anyway, it was another Anzac Bridge out and back and the combined-runs half came up in 1:51ish. I have set myself a cutoff of back to back over 1hr 10k runs. If I become that slow, or if I proper break, then I will stop. Eight days left.

I might be able to do this. Twenty two kilometres today, 22 days done.