Is that my Mojo knocking?

mojoI did it!  I went for my first run in like, forever, and….no pain! Well, not in my ankle.  I am however nursing a monster blister courtesy of my new orthotics.  You know what though, this isn’t as bad as it sounds.  Given I could feel the burn of said blister just past the half-way point, I kept going, pushed through, because I’m tough.  Nah, not particularly tough but reconnecting with my Mojo.  How I missed my Mojo.

While galavanting through the golf course, the Pain Master was in my ear trying to convince me to get up with the sun and get my run done and dusted first thing of a morning.  We have been friends for a while now, does she not know me?  I love my bed, and more often than not, the little pink human finds her way in at around 5am.  She’s still cute and adorable and loves a snuggle – who would want to give that up for a run?  Well…the fact that a couple of hours after my return, there is no pain and limited swelling, I could be convinced to set the alarm and get out of the bed a little earlier.

What else has been happening?  Uni exams are finally over, so I have a little breathing space until February.  Work is crazy busy – what happened to it getting quiet on the approach to Christmas?  Not this year sunshine.  The Devil has been a champion, picking up the slack in my wake, making sure the little humans are fed and watered while my head has been stuck in the text books, or traipsing around the country side for work. Both little human’s have celebrated birthdays in the last 9 days – I know, I am equally surprised we have all made it through another year!  So, in celebration of this fabulous achievement there has been an excess of sugar pass through our house.  I may have contributed significantly to the situation with this creation:

IMG_2390 IMG_2411

I’ve seriously been considering this new I Quit Sugar thing, but I’m not convinced I have the commitment that it would require.  I have been reducing my sugar consumption, but I don’t think I could ever be as hard core about it as the book suggests.  I don’t do green juice. Ever.  It is never good, it always tastes like grass (as I type, Nigella is seductively making some chocolate Christmas goodness…I’m feeling weak).  SO, on that note, I’m off for some beauty sleep.  I’ll set the alarm a smidgen earlier and see how the world looks at that time of day, with a cappuccino in my hand.

Welcome home Mojo. Welcome home.


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