Running scared...

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
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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
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Religion, running and a rockin' good time

I am in pain Reader. Why am I in pain? I shall tell you. I am in pain, because today I did my second jog of the week. Now, if you've been reading this blog since the early days, you will know that I am about as athletic as a potato with a bit of rot sitting in. I gave the whole running thing a try earlier this year when I was getting into character for my graduate film from drama school and that nearly killed me, but for some reason, I have agreed to go running every other day with my mum, round our local park, in ugly clothes and trainers. I look like an asthmatic chav.

Why have I agreed to do this hellish task? Well, to be fair, it is for a very good reason. Recently, a friend of the family passed away from cancer, the second mother of a friend to have done so in a few years. So mum decided to do the Race for Life. And in a moment of weakness, she reminded me what a great cause it's for. I thought 'yeah, you know what? I haven't done much good for charity, save giving some money here and there. This might be a really good thing for me to do, in memory of the wonderful women I know that have passed away.' The thought of losing some weight was also pretty tempting. The thing is Reader, that I had forgotten that running is actually jolly hard work. And after two sessions, my calves have frozen in fear, my arse is throbbing (I think I need sports knickers if such a thing exist, to reign in my wandering flab) and going up stairs is agony. Plus, I'm not sure it's going to help me lose weight, I'm eating more than usual to compensate for the exercise! Although saying that, it is quite nice going round the park and seeing all the baby swans and stuff. Even though the other lady joggers (who, by the way, are scarily buff and toned and never seem to sweat or get out of breath) look at me pityingly. I think they can tell that I'm not cut out for the whole running thing...but I shall persevere. After all, it's for a good cause so I'd look pretty mean if I backed out now! 

The other slightly astonishing thing I did today was go to church. Now, anyone that knows me will be able to tell you that although I'm quite spiritual, I'm not the most religious of people. I was raised by agnostic/atheist parents, who were over-ruled by my heavily catholic Irish grandparents. So I lived in a very chilled house religion wise, but still did my communion and confirmation. For a stage when I was 14, I even wanted to be a nun. Then I did my confirmation classes and had a whole bunch of arguments with the nuns about how wise it really was to tell a bunch of Tottenham teens that contraception was a sin. I mean, really. Then I started a debate about why God would have given women clitorises if he didn't intend sex to be for pleasure, and what constituted as abortion. Needless to say, I was not their favourite student, and it put me right off really committing to religion. I also travelled a lot as a child, and when I came back, my understanding of faith was a little odd. My gran got very worried when I started asking her where the offering tables were in mass one sunday when I was about 5. She asked me what I meant and I replied 'You know, the tables with the food and incense for the Gods, so they make the sun still come up every morning'. Poor Nana. So now I believe what I want to believe. Which is basically that there is a higher power who loves us all, there is a heaven with everything good in it (including deep fried brie, seasides and horror films) but no hell (hell is just the absence of heaven), that if you're good to your fellow humans and animals then good things happen to you too, Karma exists, prayer works and deep down, everyone has something good about them. Which is enough for me really. I don't like to be dogmatic. But going to church today was nice. I like the traditions of lighting candles for people, singing the hymns out of the old dog eared hymn books and kneeling in the pews to pray with the soggy wafer on your tongue, trying really hard not to chew it. It's all quite comfortable and pleasant. Saying that, there were so many depressed looking people there, I wanted to get them all cheering and energetic with a Sister Act style gospel sing-a-long! 

Right Reader, it's late and I'm knackered, so for now, tarrah!

More later 

Ash

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