Ok, a lot to cover. First of all I just want to state that people who believe there is not an unwritten law that allows you to take someone else's chips or sweets without asking. If you do that, you are more than likely to be a cunt. I shouldn't have to say "excuse me, I bought these. With my own money. So, ya know... fuck off". Ahem.
Secondly, I should probably talk about the BUCS Cross Country Championships in Stirling. This was a dismal failure for me. I have never ran cross country, ever. The distance was 12k, (it actually turned out to be 11.1k) and I figured that seeing as I managed 10k okay, I shouldn't need to do any extra training. How wrong I was. I should note that I did "give up" drinking for the week before hand, so I did take it a little seriously. Although the primary reason for this was lack of funds. Whilst I always knew I wouldn't be at the front of the field, I didn't care as the uni paid the hotel so the shit finish would have been a worthy price to pay. The first thing I hated about the trip was going to Nottingham Uni to get the coach with the Nottingham and Coventry teams. Nottingham Uni is huge and actually good. I got the same feeling I got when I went to Birmingham Uni. I know a lot of people say I'm a pessimist, but I can't help feeling like a failure when I compare these traditional, "proper" universities to Derby. I always thought I was intelligent, but reality is starting to bite hard and it's hard to accept the fact that I'm just not as smart as I used to be. This feeling was repeated upon arriving at Stirling, which is simply massive and rightly deserves it's official tag of "most beautiful uni in the country".
The second thing was obviously the race itself. We (Stu, Ben, James and Clair) walked the course beforehand and that was hard enough! It had been raining, but even without that, some of the hills were just silly. I started to really shit myself at this point. Everyone assured me I would be fine so I went along with it. When the gun went, fuck me was I slow. At first I thought everyone was sprinting, but it soon became clear that everyone was actually jogging at their normal pace. By the fourth turn, I was last. By a considerable distance. By the end of the first long lap (which actually turned out to be the one short lap, totally fucking up my mental state) people were asking me if I was still in the race. To be fair, people were nicer than I expected. Sure, people took the piss (one guy ringing the last lap bell), but in a nice way. People cheered me on, which was actually a great feeling. But I also felt shit, as I knew I looked unfit. Hell, I am. But the realisation was painful. By the time I came round to start lap 3 (of 4), I knew there was absolutely no chance of me overtaking anyone, so I thought it best to slip into the trees, remove my vest and walk into the crowd. This was the worst feeling I've had in a long time. On top of not feeling too great about myself, I felt like I had let the team down. Somehow, eventually, after a series of phone calls to Mum, Lewis and Nat, I cheered up and pulled myself together. I will never forget that feeling. Ever. I aim to return next year and put in a performance to be proud of. Training is still not that intense, but I feel like I need to concentrate on weight loss. On that note, Tom yesterday said that I have lost a lot of weight since September. Feeling good now!
I will have to continue this later as I have lost my trail of thought. Plus, Zama keeps farting on me in the library.
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