Sore feet, personal triumphs and what happens when you don’t buy Italian.

About 12000 people ahead of me...

About 12000 people ahead of me...

I have really sore feet, in fact my feet are chock full of blisters (too much information?) and it isn’t because I had a moment of personal triumph on Sunday when I crossed the finish line of the Bridge Run.

Actually, there were a few moments of triumph attached to that one:

  • I actually started it- commitment isn’t one of my strong suits, (but I’m working on it)
  • Not only did I beat the cut-off time (my 2nd biggest fear) I came in almost exactly on the km split that I forecast (how professional runner does that sound?) and ran the bits I wanted to run and walked the bits I knew would completely knacker me, ie the hills
  • I powered across the finish line (ok, “powered” is perhaps a tad strong…I ran across the finish line…and collapsed on the other side of it…)
  • Not only did I not finish last (my biggest fear), but I beat about 4000 people…and yes I know there were about 12000 who finished in front of me, but that is beside the point
  • I took some cool photos in the middle of the Harbour Bridge (when I should have been running) and resolutely ignored the temptation to stop for more (when I did run)
  • I enjoyed it. And that, in itself, from someone who has never run before this challenge (which began foolhardedly over a bottle or two of New Zealand’s finest and a “how hard could it be?” comment back in April) is pretty mega.

So, if I pulled up fine (aside from a slightly janky hip and some shin splints), why are my feet so sore?

Indirectly it is because of the race. If I hadn’t signed up to do it, I wouldn’t have gone shopping with the friend I was doing it with on Saturday, which would mean I wouldn’t have bought the shoes which I wore today to work which have cut my feet to pieces and meant I have been walking like a gumpy. And with work in a million and one directions and my head like a portable post it note, there has been a lot of walking like a gumpy which means my feet get sorer. And sore feet mean a bad mood. The sort of bad mood that screams approach only with extreme caution. And all because I didn’t buy Italian…well, that’s what I will tell hubby anyway.

Anyways, with Mars in Leo, a little bit of over acting and dramatic license isn’t necessarily a bad thing…and yes I know I need to do a post on this.

So, how did you all cope with the Venus/Pluto square, Venus/Uranus opposition thing? Anything nasty and Scorpionic pop out of the closet to surprise you? Personally, I had the super supportive end of this aspect rather than the super stalking side and am super grateful for that. That’s what you get for surrounding yourself with Scorpios…or Scorpio Moons…and positive ones at that.

The Moon is at the tail end of Gemini and that usually means lots and lots of connect the dots type of stuff. Great if you are good at this, not so good if you aren’t of an airy nature that gets off on flitting from non related problem to non related problem. In my case it is from make good to salvage to whether a flipping printer will plug into a flipping port and what are we going to do with the spare light globes?

By the time Sydney is listening to the dawn chorus tomorrow La Luna will be in home territory, Cancer, and step away from the chocolate territory…which, for this blog, usually means a recipe. So, on that note, I had best go do some hunter gathering and slip these feet of mine into the comfort of sheepskin uggies. Aaaaaaaah.

Bridge Run 2011.

Bridge Run 2011.