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| If you can see Old Harry rocks, it means rain to come. if you can't, it's already raining |
After an evening of excessive eating and drinking with family to celebrate Eurovision, another sleepness night plagued by cramps and gut turmoil as recoted in previous blog. I slept in snatches, then rose at 7am to run. When I am by the sea I love to do my long slow run along the promenade. I managed eight miles, ignoring the bloated stomach and breathtaking stomach pain that seems to wave like peristalsis. I know I should starve my body to clear this germ of whatever it is, but I still feel a hunger of sorts, or an appetite for the lovely food available at every turn. Teresa's fruit cake, Celia's brownies, roast potatoes this evening, ice cream, chocolate. the sugar and fat are feeding the problem, but I feel miserable and eat mindlessly, then am doubled up in pain and making for the lavatory. I wish I had more willpoer. I did one fast mile (7.30m/m) a couple of 8s/8.30s and the rest were slow. Sort yourself out, woman. You've had your mini break, now back to work.
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