What an October…

For all the hassle of booking a sitter and tidying the house and getting the kids fed early and ready for bed so we can get out on time… is worth it. Sometimes you just got to get out and party! This is exactly what we thought we would do. A night at the Royal Albert Hall… let that thought hang. If you have been or ever turned the BBC over which may be showing an opera or  an orchestra playing there. Then think again. This gal from Liverpool was out  for the Classical Hacienda – like the club. I went once when I was 15 as my sister was a student in Manchester.

The music the vibe was amazing. The only thing that told me I wasn’t in my  ‘youth’ dancing was the age of the people around me and the fact that I could relate to their clothes and their moves!

Where my run of interesting luck began…

Then there was the after party… I was always one of those dicks that spoke to everyone and here in the Albert hall nothing had changed. The best was a female grabbed me and said ‘ Having a good time mummy?” you know when you wish you had never asked the question… well I did ” How can you tell I’m mum?” my VEJA trainers surely made me look cool. She answered ” you’re older than me!” For the record old doesn’t mean you are a mum.  I really shouldn’t asked the next question but I did…’ How old are you? at this point I hadn’t looked at her face, “53.” “I responded,  ” I’m 44″ with that she shouted “Great!” and walked off leaving me feeling  well  and truly sobered up and wished Gok Wan could make me 10 years younger. I want to tell you I don’t even look 44 but I think I do some days. Depending on grey hair visibility and missing those stray facial hairs with the tweezer.

Anyway before all this I was feeling young and hip! I was busting the running man and then God knows why I decided to jump into the splits. I can still do the splits with a lot of warming up and slowly easing myself into them. I have always loved a bit of yoga. But never ever have I thought I could just jump into James Brown style splits. I got up and I knew it would be a £55 appointment at the physio kind of  wrong. I carried on dancing and was glad when we were heading  home.  I had tore my hamstring  not pulled. TORE!

The only thing to ease the pain of my limping  leg is the next morning my Garmin sports watch died. It probably knew it was no longer needed. Then the next day 4 pints of milk leaked into my bag with my iPhone in it. As I was driving I didn’t know. So now my phone sits in rice and whilst I wait for it to dry out and I hope for the best.  But the ‘nail in the coffin’ was a few days later I impaled my foot on a rusty nail at my allotment.  With a limp and a drag, I am so glad  my marathon entry was unsuccessful! Lets hope the rest of the month throws some love my way!

xx