25 things… March 2, 2009

I always think these things are a bit indulgent, but here goes:

Rules: Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you (thank you Casey!).

1. For years I’ve been spelling my middle name incorrectly. I kept being unsure as to whether it had an E on the end. As a result, my passport, driving license and various official paraphernalia all have a variety of middle name spellings. I had to check it the other day for wedding stuff on my birth certificate, and it’s spelt Ann. No E.

2. I once got told I had scurvy, by a dodgy looking pharmacist in Fiji. On the same travelling extravaganza, a drugged up man in Beijing told me I was the image of Joan Collins. I was more offended by the latter.

3. I have a huge amount of extended family. It all became clear when we totted up family for the wedding invites. I have 98 members of family invited (this is excluding children, so just aunts, uncles and cousins) – my other half has 11 people in his extended family, and only one cousin!

4. I wish I did more piano practice and more painting.

5. I was never sporty when young. I positively hated P.E., probably due to the fact that I had the evil Mrs Whitwam as my teacher. I remember her once quipping that I was fat when the button popped off my gym skirt (it was loose, okay!). Fortunately she didn’t put me off altogether, I got to Uni and sport very quickly became a big part of my life – I’ve since run 2 half marathons, done a triathalon, represented the British Police at rugby and love giving anything remotely sporty a go (including the OU Mile Relay this week!).

6. As a punishment my Mum used to confiscate my books when I was young. My favourite was The little white horse, and Enid Blyton’s Faraway Tree.

7. I am a worrier, and often worry about situations or scenarios that haven’t happened yet and which I usually have no control over.  These worries sometimes keep me awake at night.

8. I have had my heart broken.

9. Like Robyn, I had my nose pierced. I sometimes think the mark of where it was looks like a big pore.

10. Although I’m an outdoorsy person, I don’t like sheep (vertical pupils, weird!) and I am scared of cows.

11. I will never do a bungee jump. I’m not scared of heights and I’ve even sky dived, but bungee jumping looks to me like it could easily snap you in half.

12. I’m Catholic and I like religion in my life. I wouldn’t say I’m the strictest or the most reverent Christian in the world and I still struggle with some of the edicts of Catholicism – but I find it useful and comforting.

13. I’m not an argumentative person at all and have rational discussions about annoyances or disagreements with The Boy (they usually start: “I’m upset with you at the moment because…”). It is probably bizarre to others that we don’t have blazing rows, but I’m just not into that!

14. I’ve never dated any ‘wrong uns’. All my boyfriends have been brown haired engineers and generally quite nice, genuine people.

15. Richard Fuller once refused to hold my hand in country dancing because I had a wart on my finger.

16. Being a bar maid when I was younger really improved my mental arithmetic.

17. My lil’ sis and I are sometimes mistaken for twins. This is good for me, as she is five years younger than I am!!

18. I have a yak’s wool jacket – unfortunately it was brought back from Nepal for me when I was 3, so it no longer fits.

19. One day, I hope to be a good Mum… (oof that’s a grown up one, non?!)

20. I can’t stand spelling errors in books. I used to underline them but I just quickly skim over them now. I can’t bear it!!

21. I was born with white blond hair.

22. When I was a kid I hated wearing trousers and would live in dresses and skirts. I was very very girly like that. It all stopped as I hit my teens and I opted instead for long culottes with a briefcase for school. Yes readers, I was a geek!

23. I used to play the double bass to Grade 7 standard but haven’t touched one for about 10 years now.

24. I sometimes have an irrational fear of closing car doors. I think the summer I got a perm I kept getting electric shocks when closing car doors (new chemicalised hair the cause?), and that fear stayed with me and sometimes resurfaces. If it does, I put a jacket sleeve over my hand before shutting the door.

25. I once holidayed with my family (6 of us in total) in a VW camper van in a car park in Blackpool for a long weekend.  This was the weekend that the donkey on Blackpool beach ran away with me.  No word of a lie.

OK, I’m done – so I’m now passing this on to:

JB

Hobbling Helly

Mary

and

Picky Bits

Aches and pains October 30, 2008

Sunday was a well ‘ard game against Lakenham Hewitt ladies.  Due to injuries we ended up playing with only 13 girls but somehow only lost by 2 points.  It was an immense game and I really believe we should have won. We were tackling like demons towards the end and were unlucky not to get another try to win it.  The ref was possibly the worst referee I’ve come across in 12 years of playing, but that’s another story.

Besides the loss, the other outcome of Sunday was a particularly nasty bruise on my (good) knee.  See below:

Mmmm. Nice knee

My mate Robyn says it looks like her 80-year-old Nan’s knee, but I’m not sure it’s even that good.  The purple-ness is particularly luscious and I discovered last night that it extends below the knee into my calf too. Nice!  I can’t remember how I injured it (always the way) but it must have been a heck of a bundle.

Moving on to the lunchtime activities at work, which I’m getting into, on Wednesday I attended my belly-dancing class.  This is an excellent blend of hilarity, core muscle work-out and learning how to shake it.  Really shake it.  My stomach muscles were working hard with the hip rolls I was trying to perfect (unfortunately I tend to gurn or bite my lip whilst concentrating on these moves, rather than smiling beguilingly as one should) and anyhoo, later that evening my belly was sore sore sore!!

Today brought another lunchtime activity, of volleyball with my mate Robyn.  I’d not tried this before and I do like to be good at sport so I found it frustrating at times that I wasn’t immediately excellent.  However, it was ace of base fun and I got into it, but found that ‘digging’ the ball up using your fore-arms is not a nice sensation.  My arms are still smarting now!

So with a purple knee, aching stomach and smarting fore-arms I’m not doing so well this week.  But I have had fun getting into this state!

Blubbing over Beijing August 20, 2008

I’ve been watching loads of the Olympics since it started – I seem to be constantly on the red button, seeing Gaby Logan’s face and tapping into it on the net too.

For some reason with this games, as well as being more into it than in previous years, I keep crying!  I’m a sucker for the emotion of sporting achievement (heck, I even used to blub at Gladiators – the travelator drama!!) and a few moments have really left me with a lump in my throat.

First it was GB female weightlifter Michaela Breeze who battled with back pain and carried on to complete the competition, despite there being no chance of a medal.  Then there was the lightweight sculling pair of Zac Purchase and Mark Hunter who won gold – there was a tv clip of Purchase’s grandma just in floods of tears and disbelief when he crossed the line – aaaaah that really got me!  The women’s coxless four being completely gutted and in tears at finishing second place in their final to claim a silver medal also made me weep – have you ever seen four women more distraught at coming second?  Then yesterday Christine Ohuruogu’s come back to be Olympic Champion after her ban was fantastic and I had a little tear as she watched the British flag ascend.  The ridiculous nature of drug testing (e.g. you have to fill in a diary months in advance saying where you’ll be all the time) meant she was caught out not by design but by the system’s failings in my view.  She’s clean – and she’s back, big time.

The latest episode I’m sure will pull on my heartstrings is the story I read in today’s Times about the German weightlifter who held up a picture of his late wife as he claimed his gold. Bless! Tissues at the ready for tonight’s Olympic highlight programme…

“Sorry, can’t play Sunday – I’m ovulating” July 15, 2008

My rugby mate has just sent me a link to this article, which warns that ACL injuries (see my woes here) can be linked to womens’ menstrual cycles. She’s damaged her back and her physio advised her, quite literally I understand, to avoid playing rugger whilst ovulating. Is this for real? It isn’t 1st April is it?

The article says: “The study finds that women are nearly three times more likely to injure their ACL during ovulation” – so that means that my knee got twatted when I was being fertile. Really? No – REALLY? Is it that we are more vulnerable around this time? Or are we more moody and thus likely to pile into sports to release tension, hence risking injury? The answer is unknown – researchers say it’s “still a mystery”. Women = mystery. No change there then.

I’m struggling to take this seriously, although my mate may be more cautious (she has had 3 back operations, after all – can’t be too careful when your menstrual cycle’s involved). But really. Can you imagine our coaches’ faces when we announce, “sorry, can’t play Sunday – I’m ovulating.” That has to be the best/craziest/most bizarre excuse yet for missing a game, surely?

Exhilaration, excitement and endorphins January 7, 2008

Finally I was given the all clear to start proper exercise by my physio, so on Sunday avo I merrily joined rugby fitness training.  However, seven weeks of doing nowt has had seriously negative results on my bod. Not only do I feel lardy, but my right quad muscle is pretty inexistent now, and as a result I look wierdly lopsided in my training leggings.

However, I absolutely was loving being outside in the fresh air, running in a straight line (no corners yet for the duff knee), back out with the rugby girls and all the gossip and laughter that entails.  By the end I was a red faced wreck with jelly legs – the effect of not training for 2 months I guess. 

I wouldn’t at all say I’m an exercise addict or gym bunny but there is something great about doing fitness stuff – whether just jogging alone, having a calming swim or bombing it round the rugby pitch.  The endorphins certainly flow and the smug feeling of having done some good work is ace.  I can’t quite understand people who won’t at least give exercising a go – perhaps they have had a bad school experience which put them off? I certainly did at Middle School, with an (as yet) unnamed PE teacher being a complete bitch, and making everyone’s life a misery – unless you were in the netball team.  Luckily I re-discovered sport at University and haven’t looked back.  I’m certain there’s a sport out there for everyone, it’s just a matter of keeping going until you find what you like.  And on the way, you can try a whole range of wierd and wonderful games…Gaelic football anyone?