How to Save Three Lives

Yesterday I saved three lives. Singlehandedly. And all it took was 420mL of blood. Yes, I gave blood yesterday. I encourage everyone to go and donate and save three more lives. I’m not going to lie. It did hurt a little and I almost did faint, but to think if these were the consequences for saving three lives, it’s most definitely worth it. After an apple popper and a sausage roll, all I was wondering was ‘when can I donate again?’ Unfortunately that’s not going to be for another three months or a year if my mum has her way (which I’m sure she won’t).

I’ve always wanted to make a difference, and now I have. Needless to say I still want to make a bigger difference, but I believe I’m well and truly on the way. And all it took was one needle. If a sixteen year old girl can do it, so can everyone else. Don’t be slack. One in every three people will need blood at one time or another, but only one in thirty donate. It’s kinda selfish to expect  to receive life-saving supply’s when you haven’t done anything to deserve it especially with so few donations to go around. You have blood, and yes you do need it but you surely you can afford to donate 420mL to a cause as good as this one? All it takes is a little needle and some time.

You Learn Something New Everyday

Or so they say. Mostly it’s pretty true. Like today for example. I learnt that you should NOT (emphasis on the NOT) go for a run when you are recovering from a cold. Or else the world will start to spin and you will look ghost-like. It was my own fault I guess. I decided that because I only had a slight cough from my previous cold, I should be fine for my usual jog. However my body disagreed and I suffered. I barely even ran, but the small bit I did run, did damage. I walked most of it, but I’m feeling light-headed and as if I have run a marathon. My limbs are screaming in protest and my fingers are barely able to type. So folks, today’s lesson is – Don’t run if you’re recovering from a cold.

 

The Secret to Resisting Temptatious Foods

Firstly, temptatious isn’t actually a word, but as of now it is. It is an adjective describing tempting food, its like tempting but temptatious sounds better. Secondly, it is so simple to resist food, you won’t believe your eyes! And instead of forcing people to read the entire post like books do, I will say it straight up.

Brush your teeth.

It works. I brushed my teeth straight after I ate ice-cream. I then resisted eating chocolate, marshmallows and a muffin as I didn’t want to ruin the fresh minty taste in my mouth. I was also too lazy to re-brush my teeth. But there it is, brush your teeth and resist temptatious foods. An easy way to forget about those sugars!

Shoes! Shoes! Shoes!

 Months ago, while browsing in Big W, I laid my eyes on a new type of shoe, one with curved soles. immediately I let my friends know how stupid they looked, and who would buy such a thing. Months later I see those same shoes, and whoa! They look awesome! I could just imagine me wearing them, rocking back and forth endlessly, amused by the simplicity and awesomeness. I want a pair of those curvy soled shoes, but I don’t want them enough to actually buy them.

The shoes are called MBTs and are supposed to reduce lower back pain, increase muscle activity, improve balance and posture. They look kinda funny, but imagine the entertainment they would bring! Walking would be a whole new experience, and I can just imagine me standing around in them, bored, and casually rolling back and forth. Yes, I am easily fascinated, but who cares! Those shoes are awesome!

The shoes with wheels under them? Also awesome! No need to strap on the heavy roller blades, just kick your heel and zoom! Off you are casually rolling down the footpath, not moving your feet, while innocent bystanders stare amazed at your movement. There are many awesome shoes in the world, and those two are my favourite type of jogger. Though ironically enough, those joggers aren’t very good for jogging.

Running Rant

In February this year, I started Capoeira (a brazilian martial art). It was great and I loved it but sadly I have had to stop as the trainer moved away. Anyway while I was participating, I discovered, as so many of us do, my fitness levels weren’t as great as I had thought. In order to get fit, my father and I started jogging up and down the local beach. I did it for capoeira, Dad did it to prepare for a local charity run. 

During this first run, I could only run for about 3 minutes then walk for the same. We only ran half the beach as both of our fitness levels weren’t very high. After the run, put simply, I felt dead. My legs felt like they were about to collapse, and to this day, I still wonder how I managed to get back to the car. My arms ached and I had massive cramps. On the bright side I knew it would do me good, but when your whole body aches,  is hard to remember the positives. The next day, somehow my dad and I mustered up the energy and repeated our ordeal. This became routine, and gradually we were able to travel for longer and further, while decreasing the dead feeling. I knew it was doing me good, and I started looking forward to my daily runs. 

Alas, fate intervened and I woke up in the middle of the night vomiting. I was sick all night and all  morning. Obviously, I wasn’t going to go for a run that afternoon, and for the next couple of days I didn’t go,  as I told myself I deserved a break. Those couple of days rest turned into a few weeks, and soon enough I managed to find excuses for not going. Too much homework, I had a double lesson of HPE, my legs were sore after I grazed them etc. The excuses kept rolling in until yesterday, after I had a large lunch and dinner and told myself I had to have exercise.

So today, I made myself and my dad go for a run(Dad had still managed to do some running during my off period so he wasn’t too bad off and set the pace at run 6 walk 3). It killed me. This is my ghost writing this post. Say hello. I guess I knew it was coming, but I had forgotten how it felt. I managed for about 4.8 kilometres of the normal 5, but I just couldn’t muster up the strength to run the last 200 metres. I know its sad but the saddest part was that I only had 1 more minute of running before I could walk. I couldn’t do it though.

Running has made my respect for marathon runners soar from above the clouds to the moon. How do they do it? 42 kilometres! I struggle to do 5, so I guess my career as an Olymmpic Marathon Runner is well and truly over before it has even started. I can’t say I’m all that sad. I know tomorrow I’ll feel good about running,  but right now, all I feel good about is having a hot shower.