This OutRun September gig is going swimmingly – five days in (yesterday) and I’ve run 22 kilometres and have 74 to go to hit my target for the month. OK, so I set a rather wimpish goal in that this distance is roughly what I do each month anyway, but still – I’m not one for keeping something up so if this is yet another lesson for me in how to stick at something then it’s all good. Feeling pretty good, and my only problem is making sure I don’t run every day. Sounds silly, I know, but I have so much excess energy when I don’t bother with cigarettes that I go crazy if I don’t do a fair bit of exercise.
So B and I ran 9k Thursday evening. It was actually going to be a night off as I’d been on a long-ish run the night before, but this is what I mean about excess energy. Friday I walked home from work, which took an hour as it’s 6k from leafy Petersham along the river to Teddington Docks and then up the high street to our lovely abode. Came in and was itching to run, so off I went and clocked up another via my trusty little 6.5k loop. Because I ended up with a really shitty hip injury (an inflamed muscle that took forever to come right) five years ago, I decided that after running three days in a row, the weekend should be a run-free zone for once and so had a two-day break.
Yesterday’s run – again, my lovely 6.5k loop – was both better and worse than I thought it’d be. Better because I felt strong and getting around was both easier and more enjoyable than I expected it to be – I slept really badly Sunday night given this is the week everything starts up again after a long summer: work back in full swing and Monkey starts big school – and worse because it felt so muggy and I started sweating only 1k into it.
Staying with sleep there for a minute, I’ve had such trouble sleeping since we moved and I have absolutely no idea why. OK, so Sunday night I knew I’d sleep badly because I was in Anna the Stress Head mode and had all sorts of anxiety going on. Have we got everything Monkey needs for school? What if he looses his tie on the first day? When will his Zip card arrive? Will he be allowed branded trainers in his PE kit (I have scoured all brochures and information packs his new school has sent us, and its website too but I have come up with exactly all of NOTHING) or will I be told off and labelled ‘problem parent’?
None of these are big issues. Nothing of the above is a big deal. But sometimes my brain goes into overdrive over the smallest non-issue and that’s exactly what happened Sunday evening. Best way I can describe it is to imagine an ant hill – a myriad of tiny tunnels full of frantic activity in all possible (and impossible) directions. That’s my head sometimes. Another way to describe it would be to call it Bedlam, but add amphetamine to all existing afflictions to get the party started for real.
So Sunday can be explained (just an Anna thing), but why I’ve slept badly since being a TW11 resident I can’t quite figure out. I love everything about our new home and area, it’s our own bed with the same mattress and bedding so nothing has changed there, and we still sleep on the same sides so it’s not like I’m getting used to B suddenly sleeping to the left of me. He’s on my right as he’s always been. I really don’t know what it is. I’m possibly living a little more healthily and after a bit of a running hiatus over the past couple of years (since meeting B I’d say I’ve averaged a handful of runs per month as opposed to my former frequency) I’m back to running four-five times per week, but surely the increase in green stuff and exercise should ensure a better night’s sleep?
Who knows. I’m rambling. And I have work to do.