Half marathon training

Last Sunday Mr Rose reallllly made me cross. 


As I've mentioned once or twice, I'm training for this weekend's Shine half marathon.  Last Sunday I got up knowing I had to walk 8 miles, had a balanced healthy breakfast with good mixture of slow releasing carbs, fruit and low fat protein.  I did some stretches.  Got into my snazzy trainers, running pants, strawberry sports bra - the whole works.  I packed a little sports rucksack with what any sportswoman would carry - neurofen and an oyster card in case it all got a bit too much.  I applied deodorant like it was going out of fashion and a light facial sun tan lotion (well I am in my 30s now and it was a sunny day).  Mr Rose fell out of bed, shoved a crumpet down his gob, pulled on his jeans and announced he was going to walk the first 20 mins with me. 

He hasn't done any of the training with me and hasn't done any excercise for ages.  As we strode off I was secretly amused that this poor deluded fellow thought he could keep up with a fully trained half marathon walker.  I proudly assumed he would look at me through admiringly as I impressed him with my speed and vigour. 

After about 20 mins he was enjoying himself so I decided to let him carry on with me for a bit longer. 
After 1 hour he was bounding about Hampstead Heath enthusiastically. 
After 1.5 hours I was suggesting we stop for lucozade
After 2 hours he was trying to get me to go faster and suggesting ways of extending the route.
At 2.5 hours he reluctantly said we could go home. 

Reader - he was wearing loafers. 

I guess he has more natural sporting ability than I.   I consoled myself with the thought that he would be exhausted and stiff once we got home and I would be able to make 'I told you so' remarks about how he pushed himself too far on his first walk in ages. 

About 4pm I remember going into our bedroom to get something and before I knew it, it was 6pm and I had conked out. 

As I got up and went to find Mr Rose, he glanced up from his newspaper and arched an eyebrow. 

"Well", he said "that was quite some snooze.  At one point I wondered into the bedroom with a view to shutting the window as the mad neighbour was using his power drill again and I didn't want it to wake you up.   And then I realised it wasn't the mad neighbour, but you snoring." 

Snoring Rose or power drill?

So embarrassing!
Rose x