I'm the gingerbread man!

Over the weekend, I had a little bit of a bright spark moment. One of those times when you're idly going about your business, not really thinking of anything in particular, when BAM, something goes off in your brain. I happened to be reading my daily horoscope, reading with interest about how best to woo lovers on the 19th between such and such a time, and then something that I would normally scoff at more than wooing lovers caught my eye a few lines down. It went a little something along the lines of "....and if you've been thinking of running a marathon, this is the time to commit to it". Well, whatdya know, I had been thinking of such things. Why, you might ask? Well, I ask myself the same question.

It came about when Cam decided he was flying off for a weekend to run a marathon. I mean, who randomly decides to do such things? Then, a few weeks ago, as he was busy training and I was busy deciding which side I prefer sleeping on in the early morning light, I had a thought. I mean, why shouldn't I do that? On re-awakening hours later to a sweating, staggering semi-corpse gagging for breath, I wasn't as put off as I imagined in the cold, harsh light of day - I mean, if he can do it, why can't I?

This is where the trouble starts. I think I may have mentioned in previous posts and vlogs that I have what might be described as a mild competitive streak. I mean, some who are close to me, such as any single person who has known me for longer than 18.7 seconds my mother, would suggest it might go further than that. I have been known, on some occasions, having not won a certain competition or failed to beat my way to the top via any means neccessary (cheating, biting and king hitting featuring highly on my list of 'means') to sulk so severely I wouldn't speak to or in fact leave my room for several days. When it comes to a boy 'beating' me? Don't even get me started. When asked yesterday why Tinkerbell made her own movie without Peter Pan, I carefully explained to the 3 year old inquisitor all about equal opportunity, womens rights, feminism and a nice little speech on never letting anyone keep you down, sister. Again, a small knot of panic gripped me when I realized all 9 males seated around me were clutching their beers to their chest in horror, openly staring with eyes filled with fear, before I put them at ease by letting 2 of them beat me at an arm wrestle. (See? I can handle defeat well some of the time!)

The more I thought about it, the more I want to do it. I googled some marathons and their running dates (no pun intended!) and think late July/mid August is a fairly good time frame to realistically be able to run. And when I say run, I mean to start off as small as possible, then consider the 14km City to Surf in Sydney, wherein lies another problem. I know Cam and his brother in law are considering signing up, and if so, I don't think I'll enter. This is where the competitive demon streak comes out - I know, theoretically, I wont be able to beat them. Ever. I mean, in all seriousness, I'd be lucky to make the entire thing without actually dying. But knowing someone will be running, I know myself well enough to know I'd take that as some kind of challenge. And if, as Cam horrifically suggested, he'd keep pace with me, I don't think I'd be in a mind state to be responsible for my actions. See, I already feel he's implying I'm never going to be good enough, and therfore he'll do worse to please me. Already! So, I've decided to do this on my own. I won't be training with him and his marathon boys, I will be slogging this out on my own, with Phoenix by my side and with Lady Gaga screaming in my ears, and with mental images of PT chasing me with a large whip urging me to run faster, longer and harder.

So, from today, I will be documenting my efforts to get this goal on its way to a reality. As from now? I'm about to tie up my laces and go on my first official run. Seriously, how hard can this be?


... Well, I mean, in theory. Now would probably be a good time to mention I could count on one hand the amount of times I have run in my life, most of which involve chasing a stray horse or missing a bus in the rain. Back to my mantra... anything you can do, I can do better!