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Joanna Considine 
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True Colours


I will get the running update out of the way, and you can skip this bit if it's not of interest to you. I managed the 4 sessions of running 25 minutes during the last week, although I am finding the longer running times hard. I think I'm just too big and heavy for running to be a pleasure. But I so want it to be, and will keep at it, hoping that it does get easier. L has decided that she wants to come running with me a couple of times a week, to train for The Colour Run. This morning she made me get up before 0630, and we were out of the door a few minutes later. She is so fit, and ran rings around me (but she is 35 years younger, so I am not going to let it bother me too much). This is only the second time she has been out with me; the first time was about 5 weeks ago, but she still managed to run for half an hour without even running out of breath. She ran off ahead ('You're SO slow Mum!) but stayed within sight, and ran back to me a few times. She doesn't know the route I follow any more, and towards the end, where I usually turn back and take a short cut on the final circuit so that I arrive home just as the session is due to finish, she ran off ahead and so I was forced to do another circuit. I was a bit grumpy about this because it meant I had to run the uphill section for a third time, which I always avoid. The upside was that I was so busy rolling my eyes and cursing her that I wasn't focused on the time, and got a lovely surprise when Jo Whiley announced that the 28 minutes were up. I am still so amazed that I can go from struggling to run a bath, to running for 28 minutes without stopping in just a few weeks I am trusting in the plan, and it seems to be working. I caught a bit of The London Marathon at the weekend and am so in awe of those runners. How can they keep going for so long? I found it very emotional to watch and am now a little worried that I am going to embarrass myself at The Colour Run as I am prone to emotional outbursts. I think I have written before about my tendency to cry at brass bands, and of L's mortification of my loud sobbing every time she played her baritone euphonium in public. I did proper ugly crying at the music school performance of the theme from Star Wars (where she was mouthing at me 'NO MUM, DON'T CRY!') as I collapsed in a wailing heap. Funnily enough, she decided that she didn't want to play an instrument any more at the end of last year. I told her I was very sad about it, but actually it was a bit of a relief as that much crying does take it out of me. So, I have discovered that as well as brass bands and watching The Voice, watching runners being applauded, and seeing them overcoming adversity and making it to the finish line also makes me feel very emotional. So, uncontrollable crying is added to the list of how I am going to embarrass myself and my daughter during our participation in the Colour Run. The list so far:

  1. Slow running,

  2. My wobbly legs and large bottom being squeezed into unforgiving lycra on public display,

  3. Not being able to breathe due to asthma being triggered by powder paint being thrown in my face,

  4. Not being able to see due to contact lenses being dislodged by powder paint being thrown in my face,

  5. Uncontrollable sneezing brought on by powder paint being thrown IMF.

  6. Uncontrollable sneezing may also lead to the final coup de grace- wet pants.


I am sincerely hoping that emotional breakdown will not prove to be the straw that breaks this camel's back. At least I will have L to get me through it, and my very good friend Hairy Mary, who first introduced me to Couch 2 5K. We will BOSS it, and can apologise later if it gets a bit messy.


On Monday I drove to Kettering for lunch with two lovely ladies I used to work with; Mary Poppins and Barbie. We went to the Blitz Tea Rooms, and had a lovely lunch. The highlight of the afternoon (apart from the company of my two very dear friends (who are much naughtier than ladies of their ages should be!) was a slice of chocolate orange cake, which filled my heart with joy. It is always a mistake to go out for lunch on a Monday, which is weigh in night at Slimming World, but it was OK. I have made good choices for the rest of the week, and I was very pleased with my loss of 3.5 pounds.

Yesterday I went with my sister V to Rushden Lakes to look for an outfit for her son's wedding in August. For so long, thoughts of the wedding have been like thinking about next Christmas in March. You know it's going to happen, and it will be brilliant, but it's too far off to register. While we were in House of Fraser, a lady browsing the rails overheard us talking and asked 'who is the mother of the groom?' When my sister said she was, the lady said she was too, and they compared notes in high squeaky voices. And suddenly the wedding moves into sharper focus and becomes a reality.

bit offended that the automatic  hashtags for this photograph included #vintageclothing.  RUDE!
Our First Wedding August 1987

This was our first wedding outfit outing; the first of many, I suspect. We didn't manage to find anything suitable, and might venture to Milton Keynes in a week or two. And then maybe down to London if MK is unable to provide. I do love a wedding, and this is the first in our family for many years. In fact it is probably the first white wedding since my own first wedding in 1987. It will be such a marvellous wedding; well worth waiting for. I can't wait!

I have managed to spend some time writing this week. I went to Abington Park at the weekend, and couldn't help but take a couple of photos to share. I sat in the Cafe with my MacBook, and discovered that it is so much easier working away from home. I can see the attraction of sitting, as JK Rowling apparently did, writing in a coffee shop. It SHOULD be distracting with so much going on around me, but it isn't at all. Even Morrison's Café offers a little writing oasis and allows me to focus, away from the expectant beep of the tumble drier or the lure of the fridge contents beckoning me to transform them into a culinary masterpiece before Mr C puts his key in the door. Actually, who am I kidding? The reason why I can get so much more done in any location away from home is due to one thing; lack of online connectivity. I think it's a lot like the running. In order to be able to do it successfully, I do just need to shut myself away, either losing myself in my thoughts, or in music, or physically in a coffee shop without wifi. I am so easily distracted that I am never going to finish anything successfully unless I exercise some self-discipline. And that is what I have been doing with writing. It's going really well, and I have made some good progress this week. All of the component parts are there, but I am still wrestling with the order in which the chapters should appear. I have tried to arrange them chronologically, but I know that it will be a much better read if the chapters are mixed up and events are revealed in a different order. I just need to work out what that order should be, to achieve maximal impact. It is very frustrating, as the book is there, but not yet the best it can be. And I am reluctant to unleash it until I am satisfied that it is as close to perfection as it can be. It is constantly in my thoughts and I find myself wandering off into the world of The Magpie, which must be a good sign. Mr C initiated an interesting discussion about the title this week. He suggested that perhaps I should consider dropping 'the', and just calling it 'Magpie'. I don't think it will make any difference to securing an agent, and I know that so many traditionally published books end up with a different title from the original anyway. But I rather like it. So, 'Magpie' it is...

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