Ok Reader, so I promised that if we got over £700 on the sponsorship, I'd post a picture of myself post run. Well, We're about £8 away from £1000, so it looks like I might have to put that picture up a little sooner than I'd hoped. I was slightly hoping that by the time it came to post the picture, I'd have run so much I'd be seriously skinny and the photo would show me gleaming with health (sweat), washboard abs and a bottom you could bounce a penny off. Unfortunately, no one told me running makes you really hungry. So I'm now just sweaty and a bit fat (not helped by all the yummy recipes on Pinterest). Which isn't quite what I was hoping, but sod it, at least I can run for 5km now without dying.
The thing is, I know it's an impossible dream, but I'd love to be able to be really slim for a long period of time. I've done it before, it's incredibly difficult and bloody boring being on 1200 calories a day or something ridiculous like that, but I looked flipping amazing in clothes and out of them. The problem is, I'm a foodie and I hate having to say no to delicious food just to fit into a size 8, and I'm also really social, which rarely goes hand in hand with eating healthily. I was dreaming that just by running a few times a week I'd suddenly be at my 'happy weight', but since that's not happened, I guess I'll have to make do with being fast and strong. Which is pretty ok. Maybe I'll cut down on all the buttery toast too...
So today I'll be taking a picture of me after my run to show you all just how heinous running for 40 minutes is for a slightly unfit, size 12 asthmatic. It will be from the shoulders up. It will still be dire. Keep an eye out for my next entry and it will appear there.
In other news, the count down has well and truly started for mine and The Lad's holiday! Two and a half weeks to go...brilliant! I intend to bring my running shoes with me and do some early morning running before the heat of the day kicks in. Then I can eat all the yummy Cyprus food I fancy! (Oh dear...let's face it Reader, I may never be truly thin if this is my mentality!)
I've also written another blog for the lovely people at casting website ThePageUk.com, which you can access here:http://thepageuk.tumblr.com/tagged/actorsworking It's about a bit of a dodgy experience I had fairly recently (and I promise, there's no running or dieting talk in that one!)
Tarrah chaps!
Ash
x
By Aislinn De'Ath
Click on my face to link to my vlog!
Saturday, 25 August 2012
Thursday, 9 August 2012
Facial imperfection...
Reader, I have got spots. 4 spots to be exact. I think this is from all the running and sweating I've been doing whilst training for the October 5km. And all the chocolate to 'reward' my running sessions. But still. Spots.
Reader, I am not used to spots. I have Good Skin. Skin that has been moisturised and cleansed every day and exfoliated once a week (at least) since I was 12. I have been nice to my skin (if we ignore the 4 years of being a smoker). My skin should not be allowed to turn on me like this. Frankly, it's not fair. It's not even as if I'm skinny with spots. That I could deal with. Nope, I have a fat arse and spots and I'm getting up at 7.30 to run and sweat some more.
This hardly seems fair.
I just read a book that told me if I ran 4 days a week (the number 4 seems to be sponsoring this entry), I could eat whatever the hell I wanted. Not true. I am eating what I want and I am lardy. Maybe the author assumed what I'd want would be protien and veg. Nope. Bread and cheese. Chips and pesto. Carbs and fat. She also said eventually I would enjoy running though, so clearly she was a bit mad. No one can enjoy running. You can enjoy telling people you run and feeling smug about it, or going 'god, I'm getting up early for a run tomorrow' and doing something for charity earns MAJOR smugness points, but enjoy running? Never. Saying that, I am only on week 2 of training, so I could just be not at that point yet. I am at the point where I'm hungrier and spottier than usual and tired from getting up early.
RUNNING IS TORTURE.
And that's why you do it for charity. There's a sick, repressed, lapsed catholic part of me that goes 'yes! You deserve this! Feel the pain! Catharsis!'
I try to shut it up with ice cream though
If you want to sponsor me on my run (which is for injured soldiers and their families) please do at http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/fundraiser-web/fundraiser/showFundraiserProfilePage.action?userUrl=AshandAngela&isTeam=true
If I reach £500 I will post a picture of myself after a run. It's comedy gold. I look like a teapot in a sports bra.
Ash
x
Reader, I am not used to spots. I have Good Skin. Skin that has been moisturised and cleansed every day and exfoliated once a week (at least) since I was 12. I have been nice to my skin (if we ignore the 4 years of being a smoker). My skin should not be allowed to turn on me like this. Frankly, it's not fair. It's not even as if I'm skinny with spots. That I could deal with. Nope, I have a fat arse and spots and I'm getting up at 7.30 to run and sweat some more.
This hardly seems fair.
I just read a book that told me if I ran 4 days a week (the number 4 seems to be sponsoring this entry), I could eat whatever the hell I wanted. Not true. I am eating what I want and I am lardy. Maybe the author assumed what I'd want would be protien and veg. Nope. Bread and cheese. Chips and pesto. Carbs and fat. She also said eventually I would enjoy running though, so clearly she was a bit mad. No one can enjoy running. You can enjoy telling people you run and feeling smug about it, or going 'god, I'm getting up early for a run tomorrow' and doing something for charity earns MAJOR smugness points, but enjoy running? Never. Saying that, I am only on week 2 of training, so I could just be not at that point yet. I am at the point where I'm hungrier and spottier than usual and tired from getting up early.
RUNNING IS TORTURE.
And that's why you do it for charity. There's a sick, repressed, lapsed catholic part of me that goes 'yes! You deserve this! Feel the pain! Catharsis!'
I try to shut it up with ice cream though
If you want to sponsor me on my run (which is for injured soldiers and their families) please do at http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/fundraiser-web/fundraiser/showFundraiserProfilePage.action?userUrl=AshandAngela&isTeam=true
If I reach £500 I will post a picture of myself after a run. It's comedy gold. I look like a teapot in a sports bra.
Ash
x
Monday, 6 August 2012
Half-girl-half-mattress...
Reader, I am EXHAUSTED. In the past 3 nights, I have slept in three different beds, in three different parts of England. I have taken 4 trains, made 3 underground trips, one car ride and 4 taxi rides. I have been visited by a toddler, who I didn't get to see, but did hear having a loud chat with the air at 2 in the morning, was awakened by a man in his pants, horrified an old lady into switching seats, attended a hen do, went to a wedding, fell in love with a kitten and went shoe shopping with The Lad. I'm pretty sure my limbs have all gone on strike, I have suitcases under my eyes and I've found confetti in places confetti just shouldn't be.
It was a jolly good weekend.
The hen party was that of my old uni sister from another mister (and housemate of 3 years) Jague. Now, I haven't seen Jague much since we left uni. She's been becoming a teacher, I've been at drama school and working and I'm hopeless at organising anything, so only get to see her very rarely, but dear god I love that girl. She introduced me to some of my favourite musicals, helped me through some hard times and brought me fags and chocolate when I was poor and sad. Utter hero of a woman (and gorgeous with it too). The hen party was fab (although the vast majority of the hens were hungover from a pre-hen do the night before-I don't know how they coped with the early afternoon cocktails!) and I got to meet lots of Jague's friends who I'd heard many tales of, plus see some of my old uni friends who I haven't seen in an age (including Jeffers, who has the most rock and roll life of anyone I know, Crouchey who shares my love of trash tv, and Hannah, who is essentially my more grown up twin and who my mother wants to adopt-Hannah is pretty open to the idea too), went on an old fashioned carousel with the entire hen party, discovered lime daiquiri is the best thing since pina colada (which I also had, yum!), ate so much tapas (served by a fabulously sexy lady called Lolita) that I nearly burst, and then boogied the night away in the head bridesmaid 's living room, surrounded by pictures of willies and lots of cake (I made tiny wedding cakes with pink sparkly icing and jam fillings! Next time I think I may do the same but with lemon curd filling and a lemon cream topping...mmm). The next morning it was off to a beach-side cafe, where sadly I had to leave before the food arrived (it smelt AMAZING) to catch my train, but the weather was fab and the girls looked set for a great day on the beach!
After three hours on the train, I arrived in gorgeous Surrey, all dolled up in a fifties dress, heels and toting my suitcase and cake tin. The wedding was a) the first I've ever been to of my friendship group and b) the first me and The Lad have ever gone to together. Reader, I cried like a baby. The bride (an old director and friend of mine) was so stunning that the groom did a double take when she reached the front. There were wildflowers and candles and the sun even came out for the day! The grounds of this place were gorgeous too, we spent a lot of time wandering around and talking about what our wedding will be like (when we get round to it) and who we'd have as our bridesmaids and groomsmen (for the record...our wedding is going to be friggin amazeballs). The food was amazing too, and The Lad and I got to sit on a table with a couple of the boys I did my play in Camden with a few years ago, and who I'll be working with again over the winter months on a new exciting play, and we had great fun over the delicious dinner and wine. And I got talking to a very cool vegan girl who gave me lots of great recipe ideas! After that we had to dash away for our train. On which I kept falling asleep (SO tired). I'm still pretty exhausted now actually, but have been in bed for most of the afternoon, so hopefully tomorrow I'll be fighting fit!
Ooh, and I mentioned the kitten didn't I? This morning we were awakened by a strange noise, so The Lad went to investigate then came down, shoved his dressing gown at me and went 'YOU NEED TO GO UPSTAIRS' so I did (looking rather a state), and met the cutest, tiniest three week old kitten ever. She was abandoned in a garden by her mother and The Lad's housemate (a veterinary nurse) had brought her home since the surgery was closed for the day. It was love at first sight. Am trying to talk the parents into adopting her but am having very little luck. She kept crawling under my chin and falling asleep. Too damn cute for words.
Right, I'm off to collapse now, and dream of kittens and weddings
Night Reader!
Ash
x
It was a jolly good weekend.
The hen party was that of my old uni sister from another mister (and housemate of 3 years) Jague. Now, I haven't seen Jague much since we left uni. She's been becoming a teacher, I've been at drama school and working and I'm hopeless at organising anything, so only get to see her very rarely, but dear god I love that girl. She introduced me to some of my favourite musicals, helped me through some hard times and brought me fags and chocolate when I was poor and sad. Utter hero of a woman (and gorgeous with it too). The hen party was fab (although the vast majority of the hens were hungover from a pre-hen do the night before-I don't know how they coped with the early afternoon cocktails!) and I got to meet lots of Jague's friends who I'd heard many tales of, plus see some of my old uni friends who I haven't seen in an age (including Jeffers, who has the most rock and roll life of anyone I know, Crouchey who shares my love of trash tv, and Hannah, who is essentially my more grown up twin and who my mother wants to adopt-Hannah is pretty open to the idea too), went on an old fashioned carousel with the entire hen party, discovered lime daiquiri is the best thing since pina colada (which I also had, yum!), ate so much tapas (served by a fabulously sexy lady called Lolita) that I nearly burst, and then boogied the night away in the head bridesmaid 's living room, surrounded by pictures of willies and lots of cake (I made tiny wedding cakes with pink sparkly icing and jam fillings! Next time I think I may do the same but with lemon curd filling and a lemon cream topping...mmm). The next morning it was off to a beach-side cafe, where sadly I had to leave before the food arrived (it smelt AMAZING) to catch my train, but the weather was fab and the girls looked set for a great day on the beach!
After three hours on the train, I arrived in gorgeous Surrey, all dolled up in a fifties dress, heels and toting my suitcase and cake tin. The wedding was a) the first I've ever been to of my friendship group and b) the first me and The Lad have ever gone to together. Reader, I cried like a baby. The bride (an old director and friend of mine) was so stunning that the groom did a double take when she reached the front. There were wildflowers and candles and the sun even came out for the day! The grounds of this place were gorgeous too, we spent a lot of time wandering around and talking about what our wedding will be like (when we get round to it) and who we'd have as our bridesmaids and groomsmen (for the record...our wedding is going to be friggin amazeballs). The food was amazing too, and The Lad and I got to sit on a table with a couple of the boys I did my play in Camden with a few years ago, and who I'll be working with again over the winter months on a new exciting play, and we had great fun over the delicious dinner and wine. And I got talking to a very cool vegan girl who gave me lots of great recipe ideas! After that we had to dash away for our train. On which I kept falling asleep (SO tired). I'm still pretty exhausted now actually, but have been in bed for most of the afternoon, so hopefully tomorrow I'll be fighting fit!
Ooh, and I mentioned the kitten didn't I? This morning we were awakened by a strange noise, so The Lad went to investigate then came down, shoved his dressing gown at me and went 'YOU NEED TO GO UPSTAIRS' so I did (looking rather a state), and met the cutest, tiniest three week old kitten ever. She was abandoned in a garden by her mother and The Lad's housemate (a veterinary nurse) had brought her home since the surgery was closed for the day. It was love at first sight. Am trying to talk the parents into adopting her but am having very little luck. She kept crawling under my chin and falling asleep. Too damn cute for words.
Right, I'm off to collapse now, and dream of kittens and weddings
Night Reader!
Ash
x
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