Lovely Arches

I've done two significant things since the last post. Firstly, I attended a training afternoon with some of the other people who are running for Guy's and St. Thomas' Hospital Charity (under whose umbrella the Wegener's Trust operates). Instead of having a strong suspicion that I'm the least experienced and slowest runner they have, I am now absolutely certain I'm the least experienced and slowest runner they have. On the plus side, I found out that I have lovely foot arches. That'll be a comfort as the others all go sailing past me, as they did on the training run in Southwark Park.

I also bought some books. It's what I do in the face of great challenge. When James and I decided to start a family, I read every book on conception I could find, and startled James practically to divorce by announcing one evening that we'd never got pregnant unless he gave up red wine for the duration. Then, whilst hunting down the gazillion obscure food supplements recommended in these various books, I discovered a single tablet that did it all. 'Specifically designed to promote male fertility,' it said on the label. Vitamin E? Check. Selenium? Check. Vitamin C? Check. And there, on the label, as a featured ingredient, was 'Extract of Red Wine.'

I had to grace to put the bottle back and go home and open an altogether different and tastier bottle with James, much to his relief.

Unfortunately, relaxing with a good red wine won't get me trained. Neither will reading books, even if they do promise (variously) to fulfil all my dreams, put me into communication with the universal human spirit, give me eternal youth on a plate and give Tony Blair a conscience (ok I made that last one up - even American motivational blether has its limits).

The only one I feel might work for me is 'Run a Marathon in Sixteen Weeks!!!' I think that's a realistic target. I'm just not sure Boris Johnson will be prepared to keep the roads closed for that long.