In for a penny, in for a pound.

Uh-oh. I've really gone and done it now. It's not enough that I have ventured into the realms of responsibility by committing myself to blogging every day. It's not enough that I've promised to contribute to the latest project with my writing group (http://www.the-burrow.org/ [/shameless plug]). It's not even enough that I've finally got myself to agree to start work on my novel again (not to mention attempting to finish two of my long-term fanfics). Oh no, I had to add another ball to the mix.

I've semi-agreed (that's almost fully agreeing, but with the option to opt out if I chicken at the last minute) to run in next year's Cardiff half marathon. Those of you who know me are probably choking on your drink/food/amusement round about now, but yes, you read correctly. Me. Running. Thirteen miles, no less.

*faints*

Precisely. I'm a good fifty pounds overweight (probably more, but I'm too scared to weigh myself), plus I've never ran before in my life. Not seriously, at any rate. Sure, I had to run during P.E. lessons when I was at school, but the only running experience I've had in the last seventeen years is when I've chased after a bus. How the hell I'm going to work myself up to running thirteen miles is mind boggling to say the least.

To try to come to terms with this disturbing trend of biting more off than I can chew, I'm venturing into the previously unknown realm of planning. Generally speaking, I don't plan anything (well, I plan Christmas, but when you have two kids, a step-daughter and a huge family, not planning Christmas would be incredibly stupid). Mostly I'm a see-what-happens-and-deal-with-it-only-if-I-have-to kind of girl (which kind of explains why I'm such a good procrastinator). But something like this needs planning. I can't just float through the next twelve months with my head in the clouds and think that I'll be able to run this marathon. At the moment I'd be hard pushed to run half a mile, let alone thirteen of the suckers. Luckily I have a good friend who is going to send me a heap of stuff to help me work out a step-by-step plan. (This good friend is the person who talked me into the whole thing in the first place, so although her suggestion initially almost gave me a heart attack, I guess it's fitting that she's helping me work out how to avoid a real heart attack in the long term. *snort*)

Along with the planning-for-a-marathon thingy, I thought I should seriously consider a plan for the writing-a-publishable-novel thingy too. I've dithered and dallied for about four years altogether (Lordy, seeing that in black and white makes it seem so much worse), and I've gotten no further than a couple of written chapters and a Word file full of research. The ideas are there. The characters are there. Heck, I even know exactly how the book will end (which is half the battle apparently). Procrastinating is seriously messing with the writing process though.

I'm off to a good start. I've kept up with my blog (OK, so I'm only into the third week, but for me that's monumental), I've finally got a decent laptop, and I've even shocked myself by managing to install Word onto it all by myself (I'm still grinning to myself madly over that).

The next step is to work on my concentration. At this precise moment in time I have three windows open on my browser: my blog, a working document with half an update for one of my fanfics, and Facebook (the God of all procrastinators). If I could just train myself to only having one window open at a time, I'll be half way there.

Unfortunately, it is Sunday (you all know how much I love Sundays, right *snort*) and even if I did only have one window open, I'd still have about a million distractions to play havoc with my concentration.

Ah well. It's a long road, but at least I'm walking again, instead of burying my head in the sand.