A momentary body hijack of the infectious competitive disorder

It was one of those days where it was so cold I could see my own breath when I exhaled and I watched memorised as the tendrils of air sailed out of my mouth and into the atmosphere. More

I Have A Huge Head…(pictures included)

I have no love for children’s parties, especially ones that I am in charge of.  Hence why it was a bit of a result when I realised that by having twins I have cleverly managed to avoid having separate parties for my eldest pair.  I am sure the day will come when my girl and boy are no longer satisfied with sharing their birthday fun but for now the fact that I only have to host one party for two children gets me through the birthday blues… More

The last time I will mention it.

I did it I really did, and here are the photos to prove it!

(I promise this is the last time I will mention my marathon legs…..)

Running with your arms in the air – never a wise move!

Please note to the right of me is my lovely friend Becs who was running for Macmillan and her mother and was feeling emotional as she had passed a Macmillan cheering squad.  The marathon is never just about running for most it is for a memory, a loved one, and to raise mega money for a charity.

Seriously no wonder I found it so blooming hard – put your arms down woman.

And the end!  Not looking at my bestest but certainly feeling at my happiest!

That’s it folks!

muffin top with a camels toe: sexy

I don’t look good in lycra. In fact my c section stomach means I can’t find any decent running shorts to actually stay up. Instead I have to fasten my sexy running leggings tightly round my waist creating a rather glamorous muffin top with a beautiful camel’s toe down below.

But this was the look I chose this morning as I headed to the start of the Reading half marathon. Randomly I was joined by friends from all different walks of life. My lovely friend whom I met in the states twelve years who makes me giggle with the remarkably daft things she can say. For example as we shivered inside bin bags for warmth prior to the race start she questioned where the arm holes were? I also ran with my running buddy who forced me to sign up for the marathon against all my better judgement and a new friend, Mel, who I met in twitterland. My mum was particularly worried about me meeting Mel as she worried she may be a hairy old man who trailed twitter looking for vulnerable young ladies like myself to kidnap and have their wicked way with. My mum will be pleased to know Mel is a rather fabulous lady who shares my stupid desire to run long distances for charity.

To be honest the race was brutal, I am a firm believer that the reason man invented cars and trains was to put an end to people running further than the bus stop; so running 13 miles in under two hours does not sit well with me. But I did it, to be honest if it hadn’t been for jelly babies, my competitive nature to not let my running buddy beat me and seeing the reasons why other people run I don’t think I would have ran all the way.

The charity element of the race was tremendous, runners everywhere displayed messages to loved ones who they were running in support of or in many cases in memory of. When the going got tough, particularly at mile eleven when the wind decided to attack me I turned my thoughts to the little boy I run on behalf of and he carried me for a while. The rest of the race I ran on euphoria as I saw the end in sight.

One hour fifty nine minutes from start to finish, not bad for a fat bird who had a baby nine months ago.

Am off now to present my medal to my kids, they think it means I won; I choose not to disillusion them!

Four weeks till London; please sponsor me and help save a life.

http://www.justgiving.com/jane-blackmore

Laying down the Gauntlet

I am often asked how I manage to train for a marathon with three small things clinging to my legs and if truth be told I struggle which is why you may see me crawling across the finish line on April 17th. 

I  tend to run late at night and give up family time on a saturday to do the longer runs; but I also look to take any excuse not to run (honestly if I sneeze I take three days off sick from training). 

Today was aiming to be a rest day, after I ran 21 miles yesterday, until this conversation happened;

“Mummy I want to run with you today.” Said twin girl

“Yeah me too.” Piped up twin boy “and we can run faster and further than you.”

Well my competitive nature instantly revved into gear.   The gauntlet had been thrown down, I had a race on my hands.

The twins showed that they had been sneaking a peek at my “runners world” magazine by limbering up before hand.

 
He who helped create them  kindly volunteered to fire the starting gun  and to stay behind with the baby and we were off.

 Twin boy set off like the energiser bunny on speed; with twin girl hot on his tail but at a more manageable pace.  Being the good mother I am, I quickly spurted past the pair of them shouting “eat my dust kids”.

A quarter of a mile in I needed a rest, my competitive nature had more endurance than my legs, I was discovering that five-year olds run like whippets.  Luckily twin boy was ready to recharge as well.


Two seconds later the twins declared themselves fully rebooted (I think they snuck in a lucazade gel pack) and the race recommenced with the pair of them leaving me in their shadows.

Maintaining a good pace I struggled to reach them, even stumbling at one point on a twig I think they may have left in my way on purpose.

At the halfway point we all stopped for a sensible stretch and I reclaimed some lost time, but quite frankly I was knackered, I can cover some distance but not at the speed of a child.  As my cheeks started to return to normal and the pressure of my heart started to lessen in my chest off they set again heading towards the end goal.  (Literally a goal as we chose the football nets as our final destination.)  Giving them a slight head start,( I am soft really), they hurtled towards the finish line with me whooping behind having more fun running than I have had in years.

I was beaten by two five-year olds; they crossed the line first, triumphant in beating their marathon runner mummy.

Walking home, tired and happy, with a twin in each hand, twin girl declared:

“Mummy when I grow up I want to be a marathon running princess like you; I like that you are really fit and can run with us!”

“Yeah” echoed twin boy “and I like that your belly and boobies are smaller now”

Enough said!

spanked by someone old enough to be my dad

For the first time in three years I dragged my slightly fitter, coated in vaseline and Compeed body to a race today. Half term started in our house on thursday and I needed a break so a twenty mile race cross country seemed just the tonic.

I finished it!

Not with any style, grace or speed, but three hours thirty minutes after starting to run I stopped again with the knowledge that I had just sang and moaned my way around a ten mile circuit (twice).

Now I was utterly spanked by people fatter and thinner than me and I think I may have been lapped by someone old enough to be my dad but they still gave me a medal at the end so in my children’s eyes I won the race! I have done nothing to disillusion them of this fact either!

The last six miles were hilly and a couple of times I seriously contemplated diving in front of a St Johns Ambulance in order to put myself out of my misery. I continued on only because I didn’t have the physical strength to dive in front of anything.

Following the race I paid five pounds for a student young enough to be my son rub my legs whilst I frantically tried to remember when the last time Mr Bic gave my legs a kiss. My adolescent masseur tactfully asked if I was disappointed with my time, I said I was living with it and tactfully asked if he had tried tea tree oil.

All was made harmonious that night when I laid on the bed; smiling like a good happy that twenty miles had been achieved with eight more weeks to go till the london marathon. Then twin boy wandered in swinging my medal in his hands.

“Mum” he mused “I am really proud of you!”

I don’t care who bribed him to say it but it made the pain in my legs all worthwhile!

Want to sponsor me for my marathon efforts?

Go to http://www.justgiving.com/jane-blackmore

The 3am friend

Truly touched,

That’s how I am feeling today, and not in a sexual loving touchy way but more the heartfelt warm snugly feeling you get when someone is rather fabulous towards you.

I don’t blog much about my friends, certainly I don’t think most of them would like me to document their toilet habits in the same way that I do twin boys and that seems to be what a lot of you like to read on these pages.  However I am lucky enough to have some rather fantastic friends, some living close by and others just a little further afield, some mummy friends, some college friends, some family friends and of course my 3am friends.

The 3am friend is the one you can call who will always pick up, the one who would walk on hot coals for you if you asked and the one who you call when the world is turning inside out.

Two of my 3am buddies live quite a hike away so I don’t get to see them as much as I would like, yet this often ensures our gatherings are a little messier than most nights out as we pack a lifetime into each meet up.  Recent excursions have involved a fabulous ski trip – topped off by rather unladylike behaviour involving sick down a mountain side; a trip to Brighton – topped off by rather unladylike behaviour involving sick in a pint pot.  You may guess the general theme involves a certain amount of alcohol.  I would also like to add the disclaimer than although I was responsible for the vomit I was not the vomitter.

My 3am friends were there for me when I had my children and lost my baby, they have held my hand through life since we met in a dingy office in Croydon many moons ago and have made my world better by being in it.  We have watched each other grow and shrink through pregnancy and over eating, and sobbed as we each walked in turn down the aisle  and said our wedding vows to three lucky men folk.  We tried to love each other a little bit more when a parent left us and have never let each other down consciously.  

Anyway back to the point, I recently blogged about my marathon training and holey running shoes; this morning the postman popped in and after I removed the dogs jaws from the mail I was excited to open a ‘registered’ letter.  Inside fell out some vouchers for a running shop with a note from my 3am girlfriend saying to go and buy new trainers.  Now I doubt she read my blog as a desperate cry for footwear and monetary donations but instead just saw an opportunity to be rather fantastically kind and generous.  Plus she also knows that every time I pull on my sweaty kicks I will think of her. 

But seriously how lovely is that?  Hence my rather warm snugly feeling that I am enjoying on the couch.

Did I mention that this 3am friend is just about to have her first baby as well?  She is blooming with pregnancy looking more radiant than ever. She will be a wonderful mother and I can’t wait to meet her baby.

So since I blogged openly about my lack of decent footwear I feel it is only right to share how I came by the trainers that will carry me over the finish line at the London Marathon 2011.

Thank you my lovely.

Should you wish to add to the snugly feeling read about why I am running the marathon here and leave some pennies:

Jane’s Marathon

9 1/2 weeks: hot and sweaty

I remember when getting hot and sweaty was something to look forward to. When the act of getting hot and sweaty would be preceded by a night out dancing and completed by breathing hot fiery nicotine into my lungs.

Well as middle age hurtles rapidly towards me nights out dancing are now replaced by tray dinners in front of the television which ironically seems to bring on an exhaustion heavier than dancing so the old way of getting hot and sweaty is no longer physically achievable. Plus the hot fiery smoking pleasure has been long since stubbed out as my lungs started to shrivel and rebel, so I have had to find a new way to get my kicks and get my sweat glands producing.

Hence this leads me to marathon training, nine and a half weeks to go before the big day and I am still sporting a jelly belly which is often exposed by my limited running wardrobe. Its smaller than it used to be and to be honest not many notice it popping out to say hello around mile three as most people are fascinated by my giant chest boinging along to an invisible beat.

My trainers have holes in them as maternity pay does not lend itself to luxuries such as new shoes at the moment. However I am selling the twins on ebay so hopefully in six days, three hours and thirty seven minutes I will be able to invest in some new running footwear.

My furthest run is fifteen long miles, and this weekend I am going out for eighteen. My body is covered in vaseline and plasters nightly and I am starting to resemble a greasy jelly baby that has been blistered by a day in the sun without cream on.

I am also the happiest I have been for ages, each run makes me stronger in body and mind. I am achieving an ambition again bit by bit; I am raising money for a cause I totally believe in.

Want to add to my smiles? Pop along and add your name to my fundraising page http://www.justgiving.com/jane-blackmore. Post this blog to your twitter or facebook account. Or just leave a comment wishing me luck!

All help appreciated

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Copyright © Jane Blackmore and Northernmum, 2010-2011. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jane Blackmore and Northernmum with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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