As I write this, I have become grimly away that it is now 10K minus 16. That's less than the number of sleeps to go before it's officially half way through the year. I wouldn't say I'm exactly panicking per se. But if the average level of anxiety I experience day-to-day is moderate, and launching myself off a 20ft pole in the name of snapchat (and, I should point out, QVC's new beauty box, Tili - it very definitely wasn't for fun) registered unbearable, then this might be described as entering severe.
Naturally, I have stuck my head in the sand the past couple of weeks. I am an excellent procrastinator, you see - no matter how much time I have prior to an event, I am always in a rush. Take the weekly arrival of our cleaner. By default, I have a week's notice of her arrival each time. Yet, also by default I will invariably engage in a frantic moment of shoving clothes onto the bed prior to Gabriella knocking on the door. Last week, I had a note perched atop said pile reading "bedroom needs TLC" with several underlines. Oops.
Now, though, I've had a wake-up call, in the form of Hello Fashion's beauty director Becci Vallis. Somewhere over the Reykjavik lava fields in a helicopter (as you do), we discovered we were doing the same run next month. Quite why we were discussing this and not the amazing scenery I'm not too sure. Naturally, we decided that buddying up for the few remaining training runs was a crucial reaction to this discovery. And subsequently all illusions of my fitness were promptly shattered: Becci is rapid!
I've always found there's a weird mentality around running buddies. You spend hours reassuring each other that you're simply not as fit as the other, each stoically promising to pootle / plod / bimble or move at some other variety of slow movement. Then you begin the run and each of you sets off at a pace you would never, ever run at normally, then refuse to be the one that slows. We played this game to a tee.
And then stopped to take a selfie of our kit.
Which made me realise - there's more to a running buddy just than a matchable pace. Spending circa 50 minutes in step with someone really does require a certain degree of friendship. And they've gotta be able to nail your outfit shot at the finish. Obv.