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This Blog is a personal record and an honest illustration of my life as a full time embroidery artist. I hope that you find it entertaining and inspiring.

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Tuesday, 27 September 2011

Slap Slap Slap....


I am not sure whats come over me but I have started running.
For the first time in 21 years!

I have feet as flat as a platypus's pancake.  I have zero arch and long knobbly toes with no grip but I have always dreamed of running.  I have dodgy hips and dodgy knees and despite looking like a runner could not be further from the track.

I have always wanted to run and always been jealous of other people running around, wind in their hair, trainers, spandex and neon, zero equipment, zero entrance fee, out in the countryside, free on the grass, through the woods, the fields, past the trees, weather on their faces, free to run, born free, free running freeness.  Pounding the ground with freewill able to go in any direction at any time, with other runners or alone... running running running healthy runners with healthy hearts.

It makes me sick!
These runners can just run and run and run at any time, in any place, anywhere, free.
Its not fair.
I envy these runners, always have.  Always been the one on the bike encouraging the other to be more fit more cool more healthy more free.

Only the completely flat footed will sympathise with me on this one because only you will understand what it is to have crap floor-slapping feet.  Its rubbish.  My feet are rubbish.  I hate my feet.  All my life they have been a pain in the arse, my feet.

Only my Mum and Dad can really really understand how much of an effort it is for me to turn myself into a running machine.  Having witnessed me enthusiastically offer to run the mile time and time again at school (as NO ONE else would do it) having to witness the sheer shock and fear on my face as thin tall lanky blondes shot past me like whippets.   I would lose by miles or feign an accident in an attempt to get out of the race that finished half an hour ago.  I can remember doing a fake fall and no one really noticing me get up and hobble around the lap.... I was hopeless.  You only have to mention my athletics career at school to my Dad and he starts to laugh like a simmering pot, teary eyed silent hysterics, imagining the number of times I fell over in a sprint or doing the hurdles.  It makes him laugh more than anything I can think of.  He even does an impression of my feet with his hands and sound effects.

(BUT I'll have you know that ....I... Louiji Gardinelly got the Victor Ludorum in 6th form.... Best moment of my life.  I think Mrs Paine gave it me for effort, its the best thing I have EVER won EVER. I can still remember the sheer shock of wining it and walking up the aisle with my 'Barely There' tights on and my 90's fringe.

So anyway ... I have not run very far but I have been 4 times.

I am not sure it suits me or is really very good for me but I am determined to keep at it for a month to see if actually I am a born runner, a running miracle, a secret marathon winner, Forrest Gump and I just need to train my feet.  Say ... two three times a week.  Usually in the mornings about 8-30am for about a mile.  I am so totally impressed and amazed and chuffed with myself and despite the fact that for the rest of the day my embroidered body seizes up into a painful rigid state ... I don't care.

I AM a runner now.
I am free.
Hands slicing through the air bionically even when walking breathlessly every couple of metres and my hair in the wind.  I am a runner.  I go running. Yeah.

1 comment:

  1. I, Jane, have whitnessed the above said running past the schhol car park and was very impressed!! go girl!



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