Faltering forward

Hmmm. Things aren't going too well at the moment.

My running record for the moment stands at nineteen minutes. That was on Friday. On Monday I only managed ten minutes.

I admit, I had decided to go easy on my blistered foot, having taken the dressing off it. But that ten minutes was as hard as the previous week's much longer times. It is quite warm in Edinburgh at the moment, and I don't do well in the heat, being a Real Scot. What's going on? It's only May. Must be global warming.

I went off to do the Nautilus machines, which all felt fine. Then I ran up the stairs to the changing rooms and had... a rush of blood to the head or something. Anyway, I felt sort of dizzy and queasy for a moment and it seemed like a good idea to sit down and put my head on my knees.

At that point several girls came into the changing room and I heard a voice saying "Are you all right?"

I sat up. "Yes, I'm just, um..."Embarrassment always makes me incoherent. I don't really know why I should find dizziness embarrassing, but I do. I fainted for real in Waterstone's once, and even as kind people were helping me up and fetching me a glass of water (and a free muffin) I just wanted to sink through the floor and vanish.

"Are you dehydrated? Are you feeling faint? Do you want to lie down on the floor?" By now, I wasn't feeling all that faint. I was probably a rather odd colour as I was no doubt blushing on top of pinkness from exercising. The girl's motherly air was somewhat incongruous given that she must have been several years younger than I am. Heavens, no, I didn't want to lie down on the floor. I protested that I was fine really, just feeling the heat a bit, had been rushing around too much. This was true. The other denizens of the changing room was watching us by now, possibly hoping that I'd do something interesting, like collapse, or maybe throw up.

She came in with the coup de grâce: "Have you had something to eat today?"

Now at school, when we were in our early teens, this was the line that was inevitably trotted out if anyone had a dizzy spell (the next question was always "Is it your time of the month?"). This was probably reasonable enough. Most teenage girls don't starve themselves, but it's a question worth asking.

Even back then, nobody ever asked me that question.

"Oh, yes" I burbled, surprised. "In fact I think my problem's the other way round, I had to eat lunch too soon before coming here - that's probably not the best way to do it..." The rest of the changing room must have really thought I was going to vomit at that point.

The girl gave me some water and, as soon as she was sure I wasn't going to plunge floorwards, trotted off to her class. I sat there drinking it, feeling as though I'd narrowly escaped being sent to Matron for a lie down and a Dextro-Energy tablet.

After I'd had a shower I felt fine. If the girl who gave me her water is reading this, thank you. I didn't mean to be ungrateful, I was just feeling like an idiot!

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Of course I had had something to eat, not an hour before. It probably shouldn't have been a cheese and tomato croissant.

The whole low-GI thing hasn't been going too well these past few days. My parents were away for the weekend so it was just my brother and me, and we are not a good influence on each other. The fact that the bro is revising for university exams at the moment is probably partly to blame. Mealtimes were OK: it's just that we tended to eat snacky things which up until now, I've been successfully avoiding.

So I'm a bit cross with myself. It's not as though the weight is dropping off me so fast that I can afford to mess around. In fact, for the last couple of weeks, it hasn't gone anywhere at all - although I'm definitely becoming slightly more toned, so maybe I am losing a bit of fat but gaining muscle.

Another slight annoyance is that I've developed a mysterious slight ache in my lower ribs on the right-hand side. It isn't very painful, but it makes its presence felt when I run or even if I walk for a few minutes. It feels a bit like a stitch - but walking for that short a time doesn't usually give me a stitch. I suppose I could have injured myself... but I'd expect that to hurt whenever I twisted my torso, which it doesn't.

If anyone reading this has a clue as to what could cause this, please comment! Or even if you don't have a clue. I'd like to know if you're there.