A running sex bomb

I’ve digressed. Where was I? Oh yeah. Back to running.

Last week was a training bonanza. Spin class and pilates on Monday. 40 minute hard run on Tuesday. Personal training sesh on Wednesday. Running drills on Thursday. Eat like a pig and have NO life on Friday (night). 10.5 miles or 17km run on Saturday. Mild hangover on Sunday.

That’s it. That’s my life. I’m either sweating profusely, sleeping or stuffing my face. In other words, I have no life. I have two more months of this. And it will only intensify.

A month ago, I didn’t think the marathon was possible. I was nowhere near as fit as I am now. But I’ve been fine tuning my “pathetically weak legs” so that I look more like an athlete and less like a spaghetti-o flopping all over the footpath.

It’s bloody hard though. I’m always tired and my legs hurt. A lot. And my brain hurts from constantly thinking about it. It’s ALL I think about. April 17. Everything is measured in relation to that date.

Today I tried to remember what I thought about for two hours during my long run.  I actually don’t think of anything other than oscillating between feeling like Flo Jo and wanting to punch a tree.

I do try to get inspiration for my blog when something happens along the way.

At the 9 mile mark yesterday, Tom Jones sang ‘Sex Bomb’ to me. I cracked up. Sex bomb? More like sweat bomb. Smell bomb. Puffing, panting, pathetic heap of a human bomb. Dropping the ‘f’ bomb. But thanks, Tom. I’ll take that one.

I’m running the London Marathon to support multiple sclerosis. Please sponsor me at http://www.justgiving.com/KirstenLodge


K xo


One response to “A running sex bomb

  1. The best thing is that you’ll be done in time for my return and a summer of fun! Woot woot!!
    But seriously, great work mate, I’m very very proud of you. WS but proud nonetheless. MWAH! xxx

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