What is *normal*, anyway?

Ok, well, its been a hectic couple of weeks.  Last week was just amazing in relation to all of the stuff that came to light there has been much discussion and analysis about, well, Dipshits and Jerks really. Turns out I know far too many people who fall into that category.

Then I had a great weekend, lots of socialising (not much exercising).  Somewhat embarrassing though I must admit.  Went out with Lou on Friday night, chatting to a bit of a hottie at the bar, who subsequently asked if I lived north or south of the river.  I said I lived north.  He said, “want to be south tonight?” Ugh.  Goodbye.

Then an older chap at the bar noticed I was sipping away at a good quality whiskey (no ice, thanks) and commented on the fact that it was a rather unusual occurrence for a “lady” to be drinking whiskey (although, it was a whiskey bar!).  He then took an interest in us due to the fact that he was….Irish? and Lou, having spent quite a bit of time in the UK could relate to the small pub/bar mentality.  Which lead to the the query, would either of us ever walk into this bar on our own, and have a drink? My answer was yes, if I felt comfortable enough with the bar staff.  consequently, the old fellow, who had perhaps noticed that I had been chatting to the bartender (about running- seriously, what else do I have to talk about?) then proceeded to tell said bartender, that I would like to “introduce myself” *cringe*. Oh my.  Please let the floor open up right now, swallow me, and never let me surface again (well, at least not in this bar). Cripes, could I have been any more humiliated? Yes. Bartender looking very uncomfortable, mumbling something indecipherable and then running away to the other end of the bar, not to be seen for largely, the rest of the evening.

These things should really not embarrass me anymore. This exact circumstance is after all, what has largely constituted my [love] life since my early teens.  Befriend cute boy/man, have self misinterpret casual flirting OR friend/colleague/strange man at bar suggests something entirely inappropriate. Acute humiliation.  Avoid said cute boy/man for remainder of evening/entire existence.  So given I have oh, about 19 years of good solid embarrassment experience behind me,  you would think this would be water off a ducks back, so to speak.  Nope, I’m currently still in the “I know the bartender will not even remember me, but just in case he does, that is one location that is now struck off the list of places to go to when Lou and I venture out again next weekend” phase.

I was then invited out for another girls night the following night so, as a result, when I showed up for a run with Bec on Sunday morning, I really wasnt feeling too much like running.  However, I decided to give it a go, and failed dismally.  Walked most of it whilst fantasizing about the coffee afterwards.

The coffee was really good.  The barista was also quite cute…but, no, lets not go there.

This week I had my first real PT session.  It was GREAT! Energising, I didnt fall/trip over in front of everyone, which was something I had been worrying about during the day, as I do have a habit of falling down a bit. Especially in gyms. I dont know why, I think its because the gym always looks like a crowded jungle with machines and bars and things everywhere and I feel like I have to duck and weave around equipment and people, and I inevitably lose my balance.

Today, I have swollen elbows.  Thats right, swollen elbows.  Or more accurately, swollen muscle just above the elbow along the outside of the arm.  I cannot straighten my arms and have to walk around with my arms slightly bent like a big hulky body builder.  Only Im NOT a big hulky body builder and so as much as those guys look ridiculous anyway, I look even more ridiculous.  Equally ridiculous looking is me trying to pick up a packet of something I dropped on the floor in the aisle of the supermarket.  You dont realise how difficult it is to pick something up until you cant straighten your arm, and then its like learning a whole new life skill, but looking somewhat like I have a physical disability whilst doing it.  Not that there is anything wrong with having a physical disability- only that its wrong to look like you have one when in fact, you do not.

Today was a run, just around the river.  The first couple of kms were a little tough given the muscles in my legs were protesting at having to stretch so far as a normal running stride length but after a little while they loosened up and I actually felt really good.  Averaged 5 min 30s on a couple of splits, fastest Ive run for months!!

Trainer has suggested no upper body stuff until the elbows settle down.  He said that my reaction isnt normal.

I simply told him that nothing about me is normal, he just didnt know me well enough to understand that yet.

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