Some of you may remember Gizmo, the not-so-smart smartphone. He survived a nasty improvised stunt when Mfam decided to shake her quilt out of her bedroom window, but forgot in her uncharacteristic Martha Stawart enthusiasm that she had put Gizmo on the bed beforehand. Result: Gizmo acquired numerous wrinkles on his screen, and Mfam narrowly avoided braining her hubby, Calculus.
Gizmo continued to work and provided music on my runs, although he did have a knack for randomly selecting depressing tracks like Adele's "Hello" on lead-leg runs, inexplicably decided to play the same track three times in a row, or threw a wobbly and packed up altogether if I tried to make him do two things at a time.
You may have noticed that all this is written in the past tense, because last night signed the demise of Gizmo. After a well raucous evening celebrating Calculus's birthday (corrected age 4+8 = 12), Mfam went upstairs to powder her nose/answer the call of nature/otherwise get shot of the two beers she had guzzled over the evening.
You all know that pride comes before a fall, and Mfam was congratulating herself on having successfully navigated the ominous waters of making birthday dinner without burning it or poisoning anyone (mess up a Frog's birthday meal at your peril). She undid her jeans button, started the docking procedure, and was promptly halted mid-air by an ominous "plop". (This is the point where I say that there is something to be said for running, it does wonders for your thighs).
Now. my pelvic floor may not be what it used to be, but I'm pretty sure that I couldn't lose all my innards without some kind of prior warning. Mfam whipped around, and to her horror, was met by the sight of Gizmo lying silently at the bottom of his improvised swimming pool. The impact with the china had been fatal. Lessons to be learned: 1) back pockets always seemed to be a good idea at the time, and 2) phones can't swim.
As a typical Mum, I first thanked the Febreze Fairy for having got the last visitor to flush the loo. Then I fished out Gizmo's remains, put them on a soft fluffy bed of loo roll and muttered a few mantras, scrubbed my hands clean and had a whisky with Bigfoot.
Today, Gizmo remains silent. My tadpoles say that it is a sign - my birthday is coming up soon. I went out for my first of 37 runs on a 10 mile Myasics plan, and spent most of it stuffing the naff EarPods into my lugs and griping. But then I saw the beautiful autumn colours, and realised that I was running and healthy, and that I really was a lucky so & so. At which point, my ancient iPod randomly selected this little beauty. Count those blessings.
I continue to surprise myself. Beware this post contains some toilet talk 😧
Necessity is the mother of invention
A rebel run and the dog came too 🐶🐾🏃♀️ 😊
A (mostly) Uneventful Recovery Run
