Confessions of a 30year old

Happy birthday to me,
Happy birthday to me,
Happy birthday dear Lizzzzyyyyyy,
Happy birthday to meeeeee!!!!

Yep, that's right. I am now officially another year older but not wiser and definitely not any fitter or physically closer to running a marathon. Time is marching on and I sadly am no longer in my 20's and today has marked the 9th anniversary of my 21st birthday. I can barely bring myself to say I'm 30- it's so, well, adult! I realise that when I look at my life it would seem that somehow I have morphed into one these strange and peculiar species of "adult". I am married (for a huge 9 years this summer- Matt deserves a medal), I am a mummy to a toddler, I own a car, I live in a sensible house, I'm a doctor and allegedly responsible for the care of several patients. I pay bills and moan about pensions. I can't remember the last time I went dancing in a nightclub and frankly, I'm not sure I can be bothered with all that anymore. All decidedly adult. I'm convinced I still live with my Mum, being moaned at for not doing piano practice, not studying a huge amount for my GCSEs and working in a hotel part-time at weekends. How can that possibly be 15 years ago? 30 is very adult and old!!!

But age is all relative, right? 30 is ancient to a 4 year old.
Budia Singh was 4 years old when he ran a marathon.
30 is child-like when viewed by a 100year old.
Fauja Singh is the oldest person to ever run a marathon. He was 100.
(I presume they're not related and part of a huge marathon running dynasty.)
Let's hope that 30 turns out to be a good age to run a first marathon.

It's now exactly 9 weeks until the big day. In fact, in 9 weeks time I am expecting to be in a whole world of pain with legs that don't work but with a serious sense of .... Pride? Satisfaction? Utter relief that that I never, ever have to run again!

Time most certainly is marching on and training is going very badly again. After the last 10.5 mile effort, you remember- when I was chased by a deer, ran further than anyone should in sub-zero temperatures and returned home to be locked out (oh, how I love running), it snowed. Then it froze. Slippy, slidey, icy paths are not for running on so frankly, I haven't bothered. And somehow a whole week disappeared beneath the ice.
Then last week we went on holiday to Cornwall. My trainers very much enjoyed their holiday and were reluctant to go out at all. I dragged them out for a 2.5mile trip along the cliffs and whilst I was absolutely prepared to run a further 8miles, my trainers refused to climb any more hills or clamber over inconvenient boulders and so they took me home. Damn those lazy trainers.

I certainly wasn't prepared to go for a run on my birthday. After all, birthdays are designed for cake and not running. Have I mentioned my love of cake before at all? My bottom is especially fond of cake it would seem as cake always finds a way to settle there. Lovely.

So, new decade, new start (when I typed that I initially missed the "s"- I quite fancy a new decade of tarts, I might even substitute the odd cake for a tart). Back to training tomorrow. Honest. But I'd better finish my birthday cake off first. Happy birthday me!

Next time: A year is a long time when it's without a best friend.