I is for IT'S ARRIVED!

Meet Gary the Garmin. He's reliable, trustworthy and will run with you through the most horrendous weather conditions. I might just trade in my husband... 

...and it's just as wonderful as I had hoped! Not only did it arrive two days early, it also started working as soon as I plugged it in. I know, how amazing! Okay, I had to run to the top of the street so that it could find a satellite with which to set the time but I often have jump on my bed  to get a signal on my mobile phone. I know it's fantastic but it's not a blooming miracle worker (otherwise I would have lost another stone this weekend and I would be driving a brand new yellow Porsche 911.)

Because I'm a girl who likes to name everything (my car is called Sally, my husbands car is called Victor- much to his irritation) my new Garmin is called Gary. Inventive I know. A real inspiration. I just don't know where my idea's come from. Gary and I went for an eight mile run today. We spent 5 miles running into the arctic wind. It's the first run I've ever done where I haven't actually gotten warm- I started the run shivering and finished the run blue. But Gary was magnificent- he peeped every time I ran another mile and his backlight was simply wonderful. Sure, I nearly fell under a car playing with Gary's buttons. Sure I lost the satellite signal a couple of times. Sure, I almost deleted my workout when I was trying to save it but hey, that's technology for you.

As it turns out, Gary arrived just in the nick of time. On Friday I received an e-mail telling me that I am officially running the BUPA Great North Run! EEEEEKKKKK...what are the chances of that happening? Actually, about 8 to 1! I never expected to be successful but here I am, already waking up screaming in the middle of the night because, in my dreams at least, I am doing my very first televised half marathon in the nude. Even worse, I've re-gained all of my wobbly bits... and they are filling the screens of the nation's disgusted viewers! Apparently the television adds 8 pounds to svelte models... I dread to think how I'll look... like a cross between king-kong and an umpa-loompa. Perhaps I should bite the bullet and go dressed as an umpa-loompa then at least people will think I'm being ironic.  

Do you think I'll be able to hide myself in a crowd this big? It will be like 'Where's Wally?' A new national sport! 

I fear that I am ranting (again. ) Obviously, the race is not until September and I will not spend the whole of the next 7 months fixated on my wobbly bottom in an umpa-loompa's costume, nor will I fret and have nightmares about humiliating myself... in public... on national television. No dear readers, I will be cool, calm and collected... just like normal. (In case you were wondering, that was me practising being ironic!)

            EEEEEEEK!

7 months to go x