The Run

I reckon I've done at least ten Run For The Kids runs and frankly, I ain't gettin' any better!

Of late, I've been doing weight training (having thought I was fairly strong but discovered I'm a weakling!!) and attempting interval training on the treadmill. I can't even remember the last time I ran 10kms, and this was - thankfully - shorter than prior years at just 12.8km.

The course took us over the Bolte Bridge, which is a killer gradual climb, this year coupled with a strong, too-warm headwind.

Doesn't look high - you really need to be plodding up it to fully appreciate the pain!

At the top of the bridge, a local radio station had a promotional team waving some pretty funny signs, including these, which spoke to me!

Keep running. The day will come when you CAN'T do this. 

You're not slow. You're just enjoying the course.

There were over 20,000 people running and walking, and as always, I put myself in the second fastest running division. I do this because you don't have to hang around and get to start earlier, but it also meant that although I victoriously passed about 8 people (all walking), I was passed by about 8,000 runners!! It's not encouraging 😟

Some of the 'crush' who shot past me

Worse still, I took so long my Spotify running playlist ran out, so it started serving up a random selection of whatever. As I reached the low point of the run, about 4kms  from the end, I got "I Hate Myself" by the Pretenders - a dreary number with a terrible message that repeats the phrase 'I hate myself' about 80 times in a row. (Seriously, look it up - you need to hear it to appreciate the full misery of the moment.) So not okay. But to change it,  I'd have to have pulled over to get my phone out of my armband, and I was terrified that if I stopped, I'd never go again. (That and my time which I didn't want to compromise.)

After the run

I use an app that tracks my time and was surprised to see I'd started off oaky with 6-minute kilometres, but less surprised that my average slowed with inclines and time. Anyway, I plodded the entire way and got a time that in previous years, I would have been happy with - when the course was 15kms!!

So now, like after every other run, I promise myself to be better prepared and fitter next year - which never happens!!

Camping At Home

As part of what feels like the world's longest renovation, our floors are being sanded back and stained, which means we've moved out to the shed.

We've been semi-living in the shed since July last year when the kitchen was ripped out. There's a bar fridge, a microwave and a two-ring gas cooker. Between that and the barbeque, we've managed to avoid the temptation (and expense!) of Uber Eats.

However, we have managed, until now, to be sleeping and showering in the house. Now we've all been evicted - including Gary.

Night one was a disaster.

Sass and I took a couch each. These were the cheapest couches going on the internet. They look deceptively okay but my god, they're uncomfortable beyond description. I know why they sell them online - if you had the opportunity to sit on them in a store, you wouldn't buy them.

The backs fold back to make beds and Elle says inviting guests to sleep on them is just plain rude! I'd lie on one and say they were fine and no guest has complained. Let me state, here and now, they are NOT FINE!!  Despite my $50 mattress toppers, those beds are brutal. There's a hard ridge right down the centre that even the topper and a woollen underlay can't take the edge off.

Geoff had the blow-up mattress, which has had years of reliable use - until that first night - when it slowly deflated leaving Geoff lying on the cold tiles. Fortunately, I'd set up an inflatable single bed for Elle who's coming home on Friday, so at about 3am, he crawled on to that. Unfortunately, his head hung off one end and his feet off the other.

 I looked for the puncture in the morning, gave up and headed to Anaconda. They had a deluxe QS inflatable bed, with built-in pump for $69. Done.

I got it home, pumped it up, made it and had a lie-down, admiring its comfort. (That's it below left. It's even as high as a proper bed!)

Last night, I abandoned my couch and joined Geoff. It was no better. It was so bouncy with two people that I was almost sea-sick. It'll be back to the world's most uncomfortable couch tonight.

If I'm a little crotchety when you see me, you'll know why - lack of sleep. But what I'm not getting, Gary is making up for - he seems to be loving the arrangement!!

Catnapped - again!!

Gary is a little pissed off - and I don't blame him.

It's been nearly two years since he was last catnapped and he didn't enjoy that experience either.

Now it's happened again; on Thursday, about 5.30pm.

I received a call from someone at the council from Pet Control regarding Gary. (Actually, I don't think it's really called Pet Control, but it was something like that.)  I confess, my first thought was that he'd been squashed on a road somewhere, but no, just a call to ask me to retrieve him, uninjured, from the emergency animal hospital on Dandenong Road.

The council person explained they'd tracked me down via his microchip and that the vet at the hospital was concerned that Gary was so skinny. Seriously, I've never had Child Protection knock at my door, but I did have a bit of insight at that moment of what it might feel like.

Before I had time to get too defensive, she did say she'd check his file (Gary has a file!!) and noted that he is 15, so maybe that's why he's scrawny.

I still felt compelled to let her know that we are caring and responsible cat owners, we lock him in at night, give him medication twice a day for his dodgy thyroid and that he's basically living the life of Riley.

Anyway... yet again, some do-gooder had scrapped Gary up, most likely from right outside our house, and zipped him off to the animal hospital. Gee - that would have been a fun ride without a cat-carrier and knowing that most times Gary's put in a car, his immediate response is to do a really big, sloppy, smelly poo.

Like the previous post, he was wearing a collar from our vet with his name on it. It wasn't like he could be mistaken for a stray. I mentioned this to the lady from Pet Control, but she said the hospital hadn't mentioned a collar.

Sass and her friend arrived home - did they want to come and pick up Gary? No - so not.

I was forced to schlep alone through peak-hour traffic to the hospital - around 30 minutes. Such bad timing. If at any point, you're thinking of taking Gary to a vet, just because, could you at least make it outside of peak hour, please?

On arrival, I tried to ascertain what idiot had scrapped Gazza up from his own street, whilst minding his own business, and rushed him to the hospital - but they were giving me nothing. The woman there claimed to only know that he'd been dropped off. (BTW, I didn't use the word 'idiot' while I was there - it was more of your polite, vague enquiry.)

We're were going against the traffic on the way home so it was a quicker trip than the way there. Nor did Gary, secure in his cat-carrier, empty his bowels - he must have done that earlier with the good samaritans. I guess as the saying goes, righteousness is its own punishment!

Gary - pleased to be home!