Why I love running away from my problems

I've just come back from a run and it seems high time to write a blog on my obsession with running. Running is a sport that changed my life. Many people fail to notice or recognise the vast range of benefits that are associated with a long run, and if you are not a runner, you will never understand. I do not run for an increased fitness level, to lose weight or even to be a runner- I run because the most exhausting part of my day is somehow also the most relaxing.

My parents, my friends often call me 'crazy' or say I'm ridiculous for going outside in the driving rain, armed with nothing but some short shorts and a water bottle. But crazy is in fact the exact opposite of what I am. Running is the key to my sanity- there is nothing better than pumping out all the stress, all the anxiety from the day through the soles of my feet. Reaching the mount of a hill with that purged, clean feeling, and the angrier I am, the faster I go. Hearing nothing but the rhythm of your feet against the pavement and the drumming of your heart in your ears lulls you into a sort of trance. As you feel the wind streaking past your face you are stuck in the here and now, and nothing else matters- there is no room in your mind for any thoughts other than keeping going and pushing yourself to the end.

Running, I feel, teaches you all the skills you need to get through life. It gives you a mindset of determination; to keep going, especially when it hurts, and pushing through the pain is what gets you the results, if you can train your mind for this, everything else in life is easy. You can't be a good runner without putting the work in, and if you put the work in, you will be a good runner.

The main reason I love running is that its accessible to everyone. It really doesn't matter if you're a fast runner, or a slow runner, someone who has trained for years or someone who has just started their first jog. Running is a community, in fact the next time you go out for a jog- look up at every runner who passes you and I guarantee they will give you a smile- it's like a secret runner's code! It is not limited to some elite group of people who are fit and lean, if you have the motivation to get out there, put one foot in front of the other and keep going, you are a runner.

Becoming a University Student

So today once more I have to begin with an apology, I have yet again neglected this blog when I promised myself I would continue! This is it now though- 9th of January so 'new year new me' and half way through my first year at Uni already means I need to start using my time more efficiently and basically stop giving up on things!
 So today a brief catch up- as I mentioned I have just finished my first semester at the University of Manchester studying English Literature and French. I have to say I am in no way finding it as easy as I thought I would! 4 weeks into the Xmas break and still I have started none of the essays I was supposed to do- let alone started revising for those exams coming up! and they said first year was easy.....
So how have I found my new life as an adult? Well, to be honest not as good as it should have been. I think we all are affected by those idealised visions that we have throughout the course of our lives. Generally, when we start a new chapter, be it a new job or moving away, we always begin thinking that this is not only one new beginning, but a major turning point in the course of our lives. Of course it is, in a sense, but at the same time we can't go along expecting everything to immediately sort itself out. The trick is to work through one thing at a time and that might be why I've come home from Uni not certain whether I'm going to go back. Not because there's really anything wrong, but because its not perfect, because I haven't come back a completely different person, the person that I wanted to be. But today is that day that that will change. Today I decide to work on things slowly because things worth having don't happen in an instant. Moving away, meeting new people, living alone does not mean I suddenly turn into a sophisticated adult without any faults. Moving away simply means I have started that pathway, and just because I haven't reached my goals within those 13 weeks, in no way suggests that they are unobtainable.

Oppps forgot...

Two years later and life has run away with me, or perhaps I should say from me! Completely forgetting that I have any other commitments other than A-Levels, career choices and uni, I have jumped ship and abandoned this blog. Unfortunately for me, as it always seems, apparently blogs are very important for wanna-be journalists. So I'm here to try again! and this time persevere? hopefully?

So what has changed and what's the same? Well, I'm still sitting here in the same summer job being bored- hence how I stumbled over this again! I'm still running, or trying to run at least. Apparently running isn't like blogs where you can stop and start up again as you please, apparently you have to keep going with that or it just gets harder.... who knew? I've finished school at least, so finally something's changed. An end of an era they say, but right now I'm just in this purgatory whereby I don't even know in which region of England I'll be living in the next month.  Scary stuff, or for me it is at least.

And that's it, that's pretty much all that's happened in two years.... So I guess I'll leave it there while I go away and attempt to remember how long a respectable blog entry is supposed to be!

The importance of the eyebrow

Perfection, perfection, perfection. The one thing that is common in several women's aspirations whether concerning relationships, careers or more often than not; appearance. I myself, have to admit that upon looking in the mirror, I often discover flaws; be it dry skin, spots or the dreaded facial hair!
This last point is the one I would like to pick up on, in particular, the eyebrow! Unfortunately, I seem to have inherited my eyebrows from my Dad... Hence, they are large, black, fast growing and ultimately, incredibly unattractive! Until 3 years ago, the masculinity that controlled my face directed all attention away from my lengthy, coal-black eyelashes and golden wavy hair. Meaning that even as a young girl, self-consciousness ruled over me.
So, imagine my joy when the time came that I was allowed to thread those overgrown caterpillars!. Not to mention, the relief when I walked out of the shop; the whole of the upper third of my face a crimson shade, eyelashes stuck together from watering eyes and mascara dribbling down my cheeks. The grin I wore did not seem to coincide with the rest of my complexion- not that I cared!
My happiness, however, was short-lived. Seemingly, only a couple of days later (although apparently it was more like a few weeks!) stray hairs started to reappear- depicting my face as ungroomed, untamed and once again pushing my appearance closer and closer to that of the other sex! Nevermind, I thought, I have a tweezers, I can sort this out.
Within a matter of minutes my eyebrows were pretty much no more! The constant tweaking and plucking in order to make them look half-symmetrical resulted in me removing far too much hair on both- and yet still they remained uneven! So, back to the salon I went!
This cycle is still repeating every couple of weeks, each time I'll tell myself that I'll be more careful, only take out the hairs that REALLY need to go. Nonetheless, I find myself providing the shop with no doubt half its income as I traipse in twice a month with a disaster on my forehead!

Up for running the marathon? Hmmm not quite....

Exercise is a strenuous word in itself! Every time it is uttered, a rising wave of guilt fills our chest followed shortly after by the need of a little comfort, usually found in a bright purple wrapper or a shiny metal tin.  Oh well.... I've already had 6 packets of biscuits today... I'll start again tomorrow. Except, that tomorrow forever exposes itself as out of our grasp; always on our mind, sure, but never quite within the folds of sanity it seems.
Constant reminders depict our laziness every minute of every day; the 'Zumba class' posters in the library, the signposts leading to the gym at the end of the road, the lonesome jogger.... And then we come to our senses; how could it be healthy to have skin the colour of a beetroot? Surely that much water pouring from your forehead is a symptom of some foreign, incurable disease? As for the heaving: that undoubtedly means a heart attack is on the way, no? All these small reassurances seem to convince us that we are in fact safer without exercise. Yet somehow those little doubts still manage to worm their way into our head... obesity... diabetes... heart disease... Yeah. But that won't be me. That stuff happens to other people.
I know how much effort it is, to forcefully drag yourself away from that longed-for lie-in, to squeeze into those lycra shorts and to face the biting air of Saturday morning. It's disgusting, it's off-putting, it's terribly hard but worth it (ah cliche!) !
I know, I'm a fine one to talk; sitting here behind a screen right now, a large selection of empty sweet wrappers collaged upon my duvet! Nonetheless, it seems so many people do it, perhaps sweating until you are a beautiful, post-box shade of red is good for you? One thing I am sure about, is that seeing anyone you know whilst in this state is certainly the opposite of good!

Brace face

At 16 years old, I have been having regular trips to the orthodontist for the past 5 years. And finally precisely 6 days 19 hours and 50 minutes ago my teeth have been wired up and fixed into place for the next two years. Yet, rather than happiness and relief that something was finally being done to sort out my unobliging gnashers- all I felt was pain!
Every morning I wake up to metal embedded in my bottom lip, wire practically piercing my cheek and an aching in my gums due to my teeth being pushed every which way imaginable. And this is just after sleeping; imagine eating! As a person who is always counting down to the next meal, braces proved to be more than a little tiresome. With so many foods crossed out of my diet for me (fizzy drinks, crisps, apples) the rest remained to simply be crossed of myself; I mean seriously- have you ever tried crunching down on toast with a train track (quite literally!) glued to your teeth? Consequently, I found myself left with yoghurt and baby food- the latter of the two appearing slightly more appetising!
So after years of waiting I became sorely disappointed; I guess I should've been more careful about what I wish for!

Today I have experienced my first hour and a half of true work. You may wonder how it is, if I am working, that I am able to update my blog? The answer is simple; there is nothing to do here! Yep, that's right I am currently being paid to sit it this incredibly comfy 'swingy' chair- which I have been given the luxury of using and update my blog! Is this what all work is like, I wonder?
Anyway, to bring you up to speed, I am basically acting as a temporary fill-in for the receptionist here. So far, in the initial stages of my 'new job', I have answered the phone with a pleasant-enough 'Good afternoon!' at 9.27 in the morning, referred to someone by shouting down the phone 'Is that Dad?' and caused the neat-little-remote-thing that allows you to open the door without moving from this comfy chair to fly of the wall. Not to mention, I have had an exceptional amount of trouble placing someone's details on the lanyard due to the newly-acryliced nails I am coping with!
None the less, sitting high up in this chair, behind this workable, if a little outdated computer makes me feel very important. Hence, to summarise- I guess working is not too bad after all!