Day 291 in my miracles life

Three weeks… Not long now & i will be running my way through a goal i honestly wasnt sure i would be able to achieve.  I think from now on in it may all be mental, something that i just have to grasp my head around.

This week certainly gave me the biggest scare and of all the things that were running through my head would you believe that in most part i was sincerely just worried about being able to run the race?  I may have referred to it as the ‘stoopid race’ on so many occasions now, i may out loud say that it is just a silly race, but its more than that – it really is.

The race is in my dreams it is in my thoughts, i dont know why so much so, but i think a part of me thinks that it symbolizes working toward something and achieving it.  For me running the race means i can do anything.  So many times i have been tempted to give up on this diet, on this life style change, but the thought of the race, of looking the part for the race has meant just so much to me that it has kept me going, made me stronger i think.

I worry that there comes a time where you get ‘comfortable’ too comfortable with the way that you look and the goals that you have achieved and you in part ‘let yourself go’ i worry that i am becoming on the verge of being too comfortable and letting myself go on a ‘binge’ all too often, and a part of me believes / hopes that this race can keep me on track and prove to myself that i am stronger than my urge to ‘fall off the band wagon’

In three short weeks, i will be running my ‘stoopid race’ come rain, hail or shine…. Now, off to prepare my mind for it, and pray to the good lord that my body stays in tact until then

The body does not want you to do this. As you run, it tells you to stop but the mind must be strong. You always go too far for your body. You must handle the pain with strategy…It is not age; it is not diet. It is the will to succeed. – Jacqueline Gareau, 1980 Boston Marathon champ

Day 290 in my miracles life

Not really, i am not even halfway through a lifetime, quite young really if you think about it… I am not quite sure why everyone gets so worried about turning 30, maybe because its the age when your little that you think people are old and have their lives sorted out… Do you remember being a teenager and thinking that at 30 your life would have all the answers?  That you would know who you were and where yo fit into this world? No, i did – i thought i would be so wise and have all the answers..  Funny how life turns out, i dont have any answers!

Any-who, about five days ago i came across this post by this awesome lady… And decided enough was enough, i am doing something useful – or maybe not really that useful, but i am going to do some things for me in the next 16 months… I am going to do my very own 30 before 30…

I have never really made a ‘bucket list’ and i have never really been inspired to do it, but lately, well working toward goals has really made me happy inside, made me feel like i am achieving something, made me feel like the real me again, so i am going to do it! 30 before 30… The only problem is, i need help!  I have about 15 things and even after 2 days of bed rest in hospital and help from my beautiful sister, i still cant think of about 15 things… (oh and it cant be anything financially dependent… ie buy a house)

Sooooo, HELP ME PLEASE!

This is my list thus far, i am going to create a page for it, but atm until it is finished here it stands… Please please please send me your ideas and of course your input for numbers 2 & 3… Either comment down below, tweet me , or email me

1. Run a 1/2 marathon
2. Make 30 recipes chosen by other people (it could be one of yours! I will give you full credit & link to your site or twitter when i post the recipe up!)
3. Read a book. As sad as it sounds, or as awesome as it sounds depending on what sounds awesome, i havent read any book apart from Dr Seuss, Spot the dog, The hungry Catepillar etc for about 10 months & i think it is time that i read a good book – finding one on the other hand that i like… weeeeeellll i just dont know what i like anymore!
4. Write a book
5. 5 selfless acts
6. Climb a mountain (suggestion:: here)
7. Decide what i want to be when i grow up & take a step toward it
8. Change my hair style
9. Host a 3 course dinner party – just cause
10. Another tattoo – something for george, dont know what, dont know where
11. Paint a picture
12. Stay under 60kg & less than 20% fat
13. Eat calamari for my husband, made by my husband
14. Go to my mothers grave and ‘fix’ it up so that it looks nice and not over grown as it does at the moment
15. Get my foul mouth in order / start a swear jar
16. Work on my patience and frustration levels
17. Go to church with george at least once a month
18. Make a new friend
19. Conquer a fear (hopefully of heights)
20. Talk to someone (professional) about my irrational feelings towards others pregnancies
21. Work on loving my self image, so that george always knows just how beautiful she is & knows that it is not what is on the outside, but what is on the inside that counts
22. Read to george every day
23. Start up date night with my husband
24. Tell my husband i love him at least once a day
25. Teach george at least one sign / get started on baby signing
26. Run 300km’s over the next 16 months
27. Hold an amazing 1st party for george (not over the top, just plain amazing)
28. Find a mothers group
29. Get my eye sight retested
30. Make myself a GRAND cake for my birthday ( still researching what i would like, but i think it will have to involve many layers and much chocolate… Ideas?)

CAN YOU HELP ME?!

Day 289 in my miracles life

There have been so many emotions running through my mind over the last couple of days it is hard to know what is real and what is in my head.  Its hard to know where to start to tell a tale that simply ended the same way it started, to tell a story with no ending, a story that ends simply with the question why me?

Why me?

A part of me always knew i was full of shit, i mean honestly not many people can jibber jabber on for 365 days straight always finding something or other to write about, not many people can talk as constantly and incessantly as i do or spend their days finding silly things to talk to their daughters (ok ok i am really talking to myself) about…  But i never really thought i was LITERALLY full of shit…

But it seems that on tuesday night, i was.

It also seems that things that happen to us, things that we put aside in our minds and think that they are ‘nothing’ sometimes lead to be something bigger…

I’ll cut to the chase.

I was bloated, i had gassy gas, i had cramps when i went for a run, i was feeling nauseous… All things i just ignored and put toward other things, i mean who doesnt get gas? Who isnt bloated time to time? You get cramps when your dehydrated right? And well, we all know i am as blind as a bat – so that explains the nausea right? Wrong!

Tuesday night when i came home from the gym, and ladies, gentlemen if you not good with TMI (too much information) then here is the time to tune out please, i am an open person and after the last few days and the weeks to come i KNOW that i will have absolutely NO modesty left, so eh, here we go guys…

There was feacle matter coming from my vagina… Yes, yes there was shit in my giny… Gena the vagina was full of shit…. At first i wasnt sure, but then it kept coming, and after years of being on toilet paper inspection duty (all my IF buddies will know what im talking about) that i KNEW this wasnt right, that this wasnt just any kind of discharge.  I had a sniff (yes yes i did just write that out loud) and went into panic mode.  After i had disappeared for 1/2 an hour my husband was starting to ask if everything was ok.  It wasnt but i simply said “I dont want to go to the doctors”

After years of being in and out of doctors offices, after years of being in and out of fertility clinics, i didnt want to go anywhere.  I didnt want this to be happening, i didnt want to leave my daughter at 7pm in the evening to sit in a waiting room, after all – i’ve done my time of that – havent i?

So i left it, but then half an hour later it got worse, i had to do something it stunk, it wasnt right. So we all hoped into the car and headed out to the “super clinic”

Two hours later we were heading home, putting a baby to bed and i was sobbing.  The doctor had doubted me, questioned me, examined me and told me that yes, i was right there was in fact feacle matter in my gina i more than likely had a fistula – i was infact full of shit and no matter what it had to come out, i had to have surgery to fix this problem urgently or i could be septic.

So off to the ER we went the next morning… And we waited, and waited and waited.  I was examined, i was doubted, i was questioned, i was asked “are you sure” so many times it honestly wasnt funny – i just wanted to scream “do you think i dont know my own body? do you think i dont know when something isnt right? do you think i would be sitting here waiting for 8 hours away from my baby if everything was fine?”  But then came hope.  The head huncho, the gyno in charge, the guy that everyone is afraid of or looks up to heard my story and knew it wasnt right, that this was by far an “unusual situation”

You see fistulas happen after surgery, they happen after vaginal births, they happen from anal sex, from kinky sex, from trauma… They dont just happen… And i can assure you that there has been no trauma, no surgery, no vaginal births and no no no there has not been anything kinky happening in my house… So why? Why do i have a fistula?

The head honcho gyno (who was really very lovely and quite funny) came in and not only made me smile, but had a look and confirmed that something wasnt right, he just wasnt sure what.  He was worried, this is something you see in an old man, not a young lady… So not only was i full of shit, but i was bordering on old mans symptoms… It wasnt looking good and after 9 hours i just wanted an answer, i just wanted them to open me up find the problem and fix it… But like everything in life – its not that simple.

I was sent of for a CT scan, more waiting lead to no answers, lead to we cant see it, but it doesnt mean its not there – something is wrong, and we have to fix it.  They gave me a choice, go home or stay in over night with a theater booked for further exploration and possibly a fix.  I didnt want to stay, but i didnt want to go home not knowing not being clean, feeling like i was full of shit, like i was going to get sick from it, disgusted by my own body… And yes yes i was feeling sick from disgust at my own body, sick that my body could do this to me – i dont need my uterus anymore, but i dont want waste in there, i dont want to be leaking stinky matter from my gina, the doctor was right, i am not some old man, i am a young woman who wants to be active, who wants to have sex, who wants to be able to look after her 10 month old daughter without worrying that she will get sick.  So i was admitted.

More doctors came by, nurses looked after me but as the night progressed as i lay in that bed surrounded by sick women, i wished i wasnt there. i wished i was at home, i missed my baby more than i ever thought i could or would…. I just wanted to be home, i just wanted this nightmare to be over, i was sick of not knowing.

As the night progressed as my emotions toyed with me from both lack of sleep and simply from being alone when i needed company the most, as more doctors came in and out through the night waking me and explaining the exportation procedure, as i was told i would have a D&C as i was told all the risks, as i was informed what may or may not happen i couldnt help but to let the tears flow.  I knew in my heart that after the procedure the problem wouldnt be fixed, but i still hoped and prayed, i still prayed that they could find and fix it.

The night came and went, i was prepared for theatre, and once again i was left by myself to wait.  One of the registrars under my head honcho gyno came by to explain to me more about fistulas, and i will tell you now, i wish he hadnt, i wish he had left me in the dark and i hope and pray with everything inside of me that i am one of the lucky ones who’s fistula heals itself…

He told me that they would have a look, but today nothing was happening. That if infact they found the problem, that it will be an ongoing thing.  All i could think was that i didnt have time for an ongoing thing… All i could think was that i have a baby to look after, a job to keep, a household to run, that i dont have time, that i want to run my stupid 1/2 marathon that i just wanted it to be fixed now, so that i could heal and forget it ever happened – why couldnt he be telling me that they would simply fix it & i would be on my way in hours…? Why not that?

But it seems when your full of shit like me, nothing is ever simple.

Even if they found it, they cant just mend it, nothing mends in shit… Infections happen – he put it to me in laymen s terms… “If you cut your arm and rubbed shit on it everyday, would it heal?” I just looked up at him… So he explained what i still wish he hadnt said, and if he said it to me in any other way i think it would have been better, but i just dont think he realised he was talking to a fit healthy young mother, i think he thought he was talking to a grumpy old man.

We fix the fistula and while it is healing we give you a stoma (i think that is what it is called) – all i head was a bag of shit taped to me for three months… A bag of shit on the outside of me for THREE MONTHS… I couldnt help it, i couldnt stop it i started bawling my eyes out…. Its not fair, its just not fair, why me, why me?  The doctor simply responded with – its not as bad as it sounds… SHIT IN A BAG TAPED TO YOU ISNT AS BAD AS IT SOUNDS?! How am i meant to live my life like that? how am i meant to look after a baby like that… Please please please dont let that be…

The doctor left me there crying myself to sleep.

The next thing i remember i was being wheeled to theater and placed under sedation… It was one of the most surreal experiences ever, as i was wheeled nearly to the rooms where i was wheeled but 10 short months ago when my baby was born, when i had the c-section.  Same nurses, same students…. Same rooms, same beds… Only this time no happy ending, this time i was knocked out cold feeling more than ever alone and missing my baby.

I woke up and instantly knew there was no answer, no solution, i instantly knew in my heart that there would be more tests… I dont know why, but i just knew it.  And two hours later the doctors came by and confirmed my feeling.  They couldnt find the fistula, which meant it was probably very small and higher in my bowels.  And to my astonishment my wonderful head honcho gyno gave me good news… He had cleaned me out, there was no more ‘gunk’ leaking in the past two hours, so i was to come in as a ‘out patient’ and have a colonoscopy (YEY for me) an MRI and a hypogastothingamegingy (i have NO idea what it is called) where they make me swallow dye and as i sit there digesting it they watch me through some machine…. NOW DOESNT THAT SOUND LIKE A WHOLE LOT OF FUN WRAPPED INTO ONE?

But it was ok, i was smiling because the news that followed made my night, i was going home, and my follow up wasnt for SIX weeks, which meant…. I could run my (stupid) half marathon

I have never been so happy to be placed on a six week appointment wait, never been so happy to have someone make me wait six weeks for news from tests…

Its not going to be nice, these tests are going to be invasive and inconvenient.  My poor baby is going to have to be messed around going here and there with mummy, staying with grandmama, and at the end of it i will possibly have to have a “poo bag” on the outside of me… But from all that, all i heard was “it might just heal itself” and “you can run your marathon”

I am sitting here now with my baby kissing her more than i ever had before, letting her sit with me as i type this post even though she should be napping.  I have never missed someone so much as i did on wednesday night, i have never wanted to be whole more in my life than i do now simply for my little baby… Yes i want to run the (stoopid) marathon, but more importantly i want this to heal itself for my baby girl, i want to be whole for her.

I dont know why it seems that my body fails me time and time again, i dont know why i have to be the “puzzle” in every medical sinario, and quite hoestly it frustrates me, but i do know that i have a little person who i need and who needs me… I need to be healthy for her.  So for the next few weeks and as i go through my invasive tests, as i run my marathon i will simply just be praying that they find nothing, that it heals itself on its own…

All i pray is that the next time i will be admitted into hospital will be when i am 80 something years old and on my way to a better place…

Sauce, it is so tasty, so very very tasty, particularly true blue tomato sauce, i mean what could be better than eggs and tomato sauce?  The problem is…. You’re eating eggs because your on a diet, so sauce… Well the sauce is a no no – way to many hidden sugars and fats!  But if it is one thing i have learned from eating many many eggs it is that you simply can not live without it, so in search for something that would be a tasty side to my eggs while still being ‘good’ for me i came up with a vegetable sauce which has 1/4 of the fat, more protein, PLUS has less than half the carbs than normal tomato sauce has, and to top it off it is home made from fresh ingredient, so really its just 100% better for you than the old tomato sauce is.

Roast Vegetable Sauce

Stuff you’ll need

• 2 capsicums
• 3 tomatoes
• 1 medium size egg plant
• 3-4 onions
• 1 garlic bulb
• vinegar
• granulated sweetener such as stevia
• Cayenne pepper

How i did it

Place all the vegetables in an oven proof dish, dont peel the onions or garlic – but slice them in half.  Sprinkle some salt over and place them in a pre heated oven – about 200 degrees (Celsius) cook for about an hour or until the eggplant is cooked through & gooey inside.  Remove from the oven and let cool, once cooled remove the seeds from the capsicum the skins from the onions and garlic, the skin from the eggplant and the core from the tomatoes – some may like to peel the capsicum and tomatoes but i dont because there are lots of good neautrience in the skins!

Roughly chop the peeled and cored vegetables and place in a saucepan with about 1/2 cup of vinegar, 1/4 cup sweetener, and about a 1/4 tsp of cayenne pepper (if you like it hot) place on medium heat and bring to the bubble, turn down the heat to low and let simmer for about 1/2 an hour.  Once the sauce has reduced a little, use a stick blender and puree into a sauce.  Taste and if it is to your liking place in a jar in the fridge, you may need to adjust the spice, vinegar & sweetener depending on your liking…

The sauce will keep in the fridge for about 2 weeks….

(Normal tomato sauce will have about 107 calories, 2.1 grams protein, 24.5 grams of carbs, 2.1 grams of fat for the same qty)

Many of you heard brief outbursts of unhappiness from me over the past six months in regard to the gym i used to attend.  I am sorry to say that i left that gym i loved so much for so long, and even more sorry to say that they treated me wrong. When i sent a letter to explain my position to the owner i heard nothing, no contact no acknowledgment of this letter… Nothing.

I am publishing this letter not because i didnt get my money but for the simple reason that i heard NOTHING back from the owner, not a call not an email, nothing.  I will never EVER endorse or recommend this gym or club ever again, in fact if someone asks me about it i will tell them that if they are looking for people who are friendly, if they are looking for a club where you feel a part of something – this is not the club, these are not the people who will treat you with the respect you deserve.

Terry Cooper
Club Coops Owner
751 Beams Rd Carseldine
Brisbane Queensland
Australia

Dear Sir,

I am not extra ordinary, I live my life the only way I have been brought up to live it – openly and honestly, I do what I can for others and as hard as it may be I like to believe the best in people, trust people, and give people the respect they deserve.

But it seems in this case it hasn’t paid of, it seems that in this circumstance even through politeness and courtesy, giving not only a second chance, but a third, fourth and fifth chance wasn’t good enough, wasn’t the right thing to do, being open and honest didn’t rectify the situation nor bring me any just result when I polity opted out.

I know you know the situation from your side, but as you know there is always two sides of the story, and this sir is my side, this sir is why on Wednesday 18 May the manager of your club made a young mother cry, and why I have decided to leave, why after 4 good honest years you will not see my smiling face anymore, why after four good years you will never hear me recommend or talk about your club or gym again.

For three years I woke each day at 5am, drove to your club and at 5.30am on the dot I would be on the treadmill running, on the cross trainer sweating, or on the rowing machine trying to beat my last stroke per minute rate, the machines weren’t that crash hot, they weren’t the best out there, but the staff were friendly, the manager would always smile, and the trainers would always stop for a minute and say hello, how are you.  When it comes to going to the gym I am not the ‘chattiest’ exerciser in the world, I go I train and I leave, I get it done and I get out of there.  For three years even though I wasn’t a chatty gym goer I still felt like I belonged and I still felt like someone gave a dam when I showed up…. But that all changed when management changed.

The gym closed down, the old machines were replaced by new ones, the floors redone – the gym looked great, I was excited and I began the new year in the new look gym enthusiastic about the days ahead.  That was until the staff changed, no longer did I get a hello, no longer was there enthusiasm about having the gym raring to go at 5.30am, no longer did I feel like anyone cared that I was there, sure the gym ‘looked’ good, and sure the trainers fit the ‘gym appearance’ but apart of me felt like no one really cared anymore, no one said good morning with a smile.  Somewhere inside of me I still thought that it would get better, that the new trainers just needed a moment to settle in and get to know everyone, so I signed on for another 15 months.

I took time off, I had my baby and when finally I got the all clear from my doctor once again I was excited about my return, I was thrilled to be going back to old friends, to have somewhere that would support me while I lost my 15kg of ‘baby weight’.  But it wasn’t to be.  I began in the afternoons where sometimes I would get a hello from the lovely ladies at reception, but where most of the time I was lost in the crowd, so I decided to change back to the mornings a time where I knew my ‘gym friends’ were going to be there for a little chat, at a time that more suited me and how I liked to exercise.

With a baby this was hard, I had to organise my time so that it worked in with my husbands, so that he could still leave for work on time and so that my babies routine could stay the same, I knew that 30 minutes of training in the morning is enough, I am bright and fresh first up so I can kick these kilos away and be home by 6am for my baby and husband.  But again, it wasn’t to be.  Instead of opening each and every morning at 5.30am with enthusiasm and excitement for the day ahead your trainers would be late, and if not late turning up in the car park at 5.30am dragging their feet, shuffling along heads down sighing to the fact that 10-15 people were annoyed that they were not already in the gym working out.

I sent an email, I explained my thoughts, and it was my opinion that a gym should not be opening 5-10 minutes late; it should be open and ready to go at 5.30am.  I ask you now sir, just as I asked the manager back then, if a coffee shop states a 5.30am open time – you expect a coffee at 5.30am -right?  The barrister will not turn you away at 5.30am and say “sorry the coffee machine is not hot yet” no they get there 5-10 minutes early and open the shop ready for opening time – I would expect the same of a gym.  Do not get there at 5.30am for a 5.35am start, get there at 5.25am with enthusiasm and be raring to go with a smile at 5.30am, I don’t think that is a tough ask.

The email was read, and I was addressed in person, we had a wonderful chat and I thought that the situation would be rectified… And once again I say – it wasn’t to be.  No one was enthusiastic, everyone seemed grumpy, the attitude from the trainers at 5.30am seemed to be “humph, why do I have to be here?” and it happened again – the gym not opening on time, my standing in a car park of people wondering when the gym would be open, wondering if I would get a work out in before I had to be home at 6am.  I called up, I was polite, I said it was unacceptable, my complaint was heard and once again I was told it would be rectified.  But again sir I say, it wasn’t to be… No no no… It happened again, and again and again… I even heard one of the excuses to be “there was traffic” now before I say something will regret I would like to know sir, in whos’ world is there traffic at 5am, and did you seriously accept this as an excuse?

Last Monday I sent my final email, I said it wasn’t good enough, I had had enough, how could I stand there in the cold wondering if the gym would be opened on time, how could I wake up each morning wondering if I would be home on time for my baby, for my husband to be at his job in time?  How could I live my life not knowing if the one thing I loved doing each day, the thing that I had saved up for, spent my money on, was going to be available for me?  It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t the way it used to be, and I had had enough, I didn’t want to deal with that anymore, I just wanted to know that one thing could be constant – a 5.30am start.

Sir, my email was ignored, I was ignored, and honestly that made me even more fed up, that made me begin to think that maybe my business deserved to be elsewhere… And to be honest I have NEVER in four years even thought to look at another club, NEVER in four years have I even googeled gyms in the area… Not until finally my husband told me that maybe I should look elsewhere, that clearly this situation was making me unhappy…

So on Monday, one week after my email, I called the manager and told him enough was enough I wanted out, and I wanted a part refund of my membership that I had so readily handed over not so long ago when I thought things would be just great.  He was understanding once again.  I said that I had been patient, I had been understanding, and I had accepted the excuses time and time again, but now I had had enough, it wasn’t good enough for me.  Your manager then told me he would have to get back to me, I figured this fair enough and told him I would expect his call on Tuesday morning.

Tuesday morning came and went, I called – no return call.  Tuesday afternoon came and went, I called – no return call.  Tuesday evening I went to the gym – the manager was sick… Two calls, a day of waiting for a call, and no one told me he wasn’t there… Proof to me that once again, no one cares about the girl who paid in advance, you have my money, so who cares?

I tried once again on Wednesday 18 May.  I called, and called and called, and finally I got a call back – no refund.  The excuse being ‘if we refund for you, we have to refund for everyone else’

This time I got mad, I was mad, I was furious, I said things I didn’t mean, I turned into a person who I am not, simply because I felt that giving your club the benefit of the doubt for five months brought me to nothing, that being patient and giving your club a second chance over and over and over got me no where.

I don’t care about ‘the other members’ that have paid up front; I care about the six months of membership I am out of pocket.  I care that even though time and time again YOUR CLUB failed to be open at the contracted 5.30am time I seem to be the one that suffered, and not just financially, not being there at 5.30am affected MY workout time, the only time I have to myself, the ONLY 30 minutes a day I get for me… My time is precious and THAT is what you were taking from me, that is why I care, that is why I have chosen to leave.

I don’t want free time at your gym, I don’t want my membership extended, I don’t want to be a part of an unreliable club, of a club that I don’t know for sure will be open on time.  I don’t want to be a part of a club that doesn’t care, that lets its staff members literally drag their feet into the club with no motivation or enthusiasm I want my money back, I dont want to be apart of your club anymore, I just want to go without fuss so that each morning I can wake up knowing that the gym I choose to attend will be open come rain hail or shine, or be as it may traffic at 5am…

Sir, I ask you to have a heart, to think about who is at fault here, to realise that what I am asking is not unreasonable – but acceptable, and to think that if your reasoning for not refunding my money is simply because ‘everyone else will want a refund’ then there is something SERIOUSLY wrong with your club – if your entire database wants out, then obviously there is a problem, a problem that should have been rectified the first time I complained.

I am not extra ordinary but in my humble opinion I deserve to be treated better than less than ordinary, I deserve a part refund for the time I will no longer be attending your club.

Kind Regards,

Cheryl Schull

Day 284 in my miracles life

Today as i ran as i looked over to the horizon i have never felt so alive and in love, never felt better to be running in the 10 degree chill of the winters morning, never seen such a magnificent sunrise in my lifetime.

Words cant describe the colours that rose over the water or the emotions that it managed to stir up inside of me.  As i ran, as i listened to my music i realised that this is the reason i love to run, the colours the indescribable feeling the sun rise made me feel, the chill of the air on my cheeks, the satisfaction of realising that a 13.5km run is now ‘easy’ for me, the feeling of know that i can do something i never though i would be able to achieve.

I decided to opt out of doing the full half marathon before the marathon for two reasons.  One, i am not sure my body will hold up my muscles are tight tight tight from all this training and i dont think the best masseuse in the world could un tighten me at the moment! And number two, i dont want to run the race before the race… I want to know that i can do 21.1km in the moment.  I have been working toward so many goals for me it would be a shame to know that i can do it before i did it.  I am not sure that makes any sense but in my mind it does.

In four weeks i will be running this race, in four weeks all my goals i set but 10 months ago will be set, i almost feel empty like i have reached the top of the mountain, placed my flag to mark my spot, and now now i have to head home and wonder what’s next, wonder how i can push my body and soul, my mind further so that i know that i am alive.

I have also decided that in honor of the big race i want to do a 21 day count down, where i will be aiming to get to my healthiest and fittest, feeling good for race day.  I am not sure what this will mean for me, but i am aiming for a 21 day NO BAKING, no sweets, no cheats, just  21 days of green and protein.  Build muscle, loose fat, gain self control, mind over matter – which i know is a very important aspect to running the 21km.

Wish me luck… Four weeks is not a long time!

Day 282 in my miracles life

Deep down we all have something, something that makes us weak at the knees, something that paralyses us and leaves us frozen wanting, needing help…

RAAAAAAAHHHHH....

My baby, her kryptonite is cats.

And i just dont know why.

She sees a cat pounce past and she freezes, she screams a scream that runs so deep, that is so full of fear it curls the nails on your toes  – and i just dont know why?

Cats are my baby’s kryptonite.

What is your kryptonite, what makes you freeze, what leaves you frozen for that second not able to move, what is it that makes you feel so sick you want that thing to go in an instant, to disappear from your site before you can move any of your muscles again?  Because for the life of me, i know i must have one, but i dont know what it is?!

Snacks…

They are the killer.

Snacks, your fridge being loaded with all things naughty and being tired, too tired to think or care about what you are putting in your mouth, the kind of tired where you cant think straight let alone think healthy – moms you know the tired im talking about!

The two most effective things that sabotage diets and healthy lifestyles.  That and husbands who have uber fast metabolisms that can eat nachos and drink full fat coke all day and still somehow manage to jump on the scales and loose weight… but thats another story in itself

So, snakes – no not snakes snacks.  How do you get over that three-thirtyitis without feeling guilty.  Simple.  Have something yummy ready to go, something that you can just pull out of the fridge, something like my poached chicken of awesomeness.  Now it has taken some time to perfect but i have it pretty much down pat now, and i reckon if you served this with some steamed vegies or on top of a salad, it would make for a really nice dinner that everyone would enjoy!

Poached Chicken of Awesomeness

• 650 grams of chicken breast
• Your favorite herbs ( i particularly like this one at the moment)
• Garlic – as much or as little as you like
• Olive Oil
• Water

How i did it

It doesn't look like much, but trust me.... NomNomNom

Fairly simple really.  Put some of the seasoning in a bowl with a small drizzle of oil and the chopped up garlic – it should form a really thick paste.  Cut the chicken breasts into 130gram portions – it does take a little skill to get the portions equal weight, but if ou have trouble with that sort of thing try weighing the whole breast first and dividing (thats what i do anywho).  Chuck the portioned breasts into the season and garlic mix, toss around, then place the peices in an oven proof dish.  Cover the chicken with water to about 3/4 the way up, then cover the dish in foil.

Place in an oven set to about 100 degrees Celsius for about 2 hours.  Check it after an hour / hour and a half and make sure its not cooking too fast – ovens vary so much!  In my oven it takes about 2 hours, because it is such a low heat you really have to be careful and ensure that the chicken is cooked all the way through, you dont want to get sick – no pink inside and no pink juices.

It did take a little practice to get the cooking time just right, and knowing when it is just cooked as to over cooked, but if you get it right the chicken is so moist and flavorsome and is almost unbelievable!

And the best thing about it?  Place it in a container and it stacks nicely in your fridge ready for you when you just feel like something to nibble on.  If you like a little cottage cheese but dont want the cracker – try slicing the chicken and dolloping a spoon of cottage cheese on top for a different kind of snack.

And speaking of fridges and freezers and self sabotaging diets – i have honestly found the rule that you pre prepare some meals and have a healthy fridge and freezer to be the best rule…. Check out my pal the fridge…

A moment on the lips is a lifetime on the hips...