It’s time for bed said Zebedee…

As you may, or may not have guessed I’m a child of the 70’s, a baby born just before the long hot summer of ’76, a time of street parties, Tupperware and water shortages. If you thought I was a child of the 80’s I love you, if you thought I was a child of the 60’s then I’m slightly less enamoured of you! 

My age is where I started when I was thinking how to make tonight’s blog exciting, you see a blog about needing sleep is never going to be the most thrilling but 70’s references may just inspire you to read further!

The thing about running marathon (did I mention I run marathons?!) is that it’s knackering, in fact it’s flipping knackering! I’ve discovered that the exhaustion doesn’t hit immediately, in fact it takes about a week for it to kick in and this week is no different. Last night I could quite easily have fallen asleep in the middle of my tap lesson, in fact I only stopped falling asleep because we were zooming through our exam pieces and my brain needed to keep up with my feet.  Today is no different, I’m cream crackered, merrily yawning as I type and trying to keep my eyes open, it was a struggle waking up this morning and a real struggle trying my hardest not to fall asleep when I needed to go and do the weekly shop.

Like giving birth, there are many marathon related things I’d forgotten post-London and one of them was the absolute exhaustion I felt a week after the event, post-Edinburgh has been no different. Tommy’s exhaustion hit him mid-week and resulted in an afternoon doze, for me it’s Friday night, Saturday morning a point in time when I finally allow myself to crash and relax. 

Sleep is massively important for us all but is even more important after exercise, as that’s when your muscles start to re-build and repair themselves, a magical feat that sees you closing your eyes and getting stronger as you rest. It also gives you the chance to shut down, tune out and escape into a different world, one of dreams or darkness. 

As I leave you to climb the stairs to Bedfordshire, I will leave you humming the tune of the fabulously twee, but cheesy ‘Morningtown Ride’ as I board my train for “morningtown, many miles away”. And thank my lovely mummy who used to sing this to me as a I drifted off to sleep.


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