30

30.

Thirty.

Trente.

Dreißig.

Trenta.

Dertig.

Trinta.

Or, in my strange accent. Firty. (33 will be a nightmare, that’s all I’m saying).

This time last year I set out trying to complete 30 things before I was 30. Life got in the way. I like being lazy, I think I achieved 3 things. Maybe I’ll do the 30 things before I’m 90….let’s not hold our breath.

Why is 30 seen as such a watershed age? I feel like 30 is the first age that sounds like you’re supposed to be an adult. At 30 you’re supposed to have your shit together, right?

I feel ok about turning 30. Not least because I still look impossibly young (thank you filters for allowing me to believe this illusion). I was asked recently by someone at work what my secret is to not looking my age, “Not having children”, I smugly replied. That and glycolic acid. Try it out. Superdrug do a really good glycolic acid which is a great introductory to acids and for the price, do a smashing job.

https://www.superdrug.com/Naturally-Radiant/Superdrug-Natural-Radiant-Glycolic-Toner-100ml/p/729356

I digress. I could talk about acids all day but I won’t.

Am I a fully functioning adult? I suppose on paper I am. Homeowner. Great career. No financial worries. 5 foreign holidays a year. CATS PROTECTION SAID I WAS ADULT ENOUGH TO HAVE RESPONSIBILTY FOR A CAT. It doesn’t get much more adulty than having a cat.

But do I feel like an adult? Hell no. What does an adult even feel like?

For the big day itself I’m going to be spending it at Disneyland Paris with my beloved family. I can think of no other way to spend my big day. Disney clothes, Disney singing, Disney rides, Disney everything.

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By the time you read this, I’ll be 30. I’ll be enjoying spending time with my Mum, JP, my sister Rachel and her boyfriend James at Disneyland. Hopefully we’ve all stayed friends and we’ve not fallen out. After all, you can’t fall out at the happiest place on earth! As well as Disney, JP and I will be enjoying a few days in Paris, my first time. At time of writing, Belgium have just beaten Brazil in the World Cup and will be playing France when we’re there. Allez les blues!

Anyway. Back to birthdays and the fact that I am possibly almost an adult now.

When I was growing up, people always used to say that one day Rachel and I would be best friends.

I refused to believe it. I would ignore them and go back to biting chunks out of her, punching her in the face and pulling her hair. I was 18.

I’M JOKING. I was 22, she was 18. Trolololol.

That’s a tad extreme but it turns out that those people all those years ago were correct, I adore my Rachel. We speak every day and I can’t imagine life without her.

Which has got me thinking about other things I heard when I was younger that turns out, were true

  • That spot on your face you think everyone will notice? They won’t. It’s not as bad as you think. Nobody will notice
  • You are nowhere near as fat as you think. You will look back at how ‘fat’ you were at 18 and wish you were still like that
  • You will turn in to your mother. Whether you want to or not. It might be gradual, it might be sudden. But one day you will find yourself carefully putting an open cucumber in a food bag before putting it back in the fridge wondering when you became her (FYI I was 21)
  • Even though you think you’re dying, trust me, time really does heal a broken heart
  • Nobody knows what they’re doing. This applies to life, work, relationships and friendships. Everyone is winging it
  • If a man acts and says he’s unavailable, believe him and run a mile
  • Early nights really are the way forward. My parents begging me not to stay up too late. Getting told off for staying up until goodness knows what time laughing at people who go to sleep before midnight. I now consider it a late night if I’m still awake at 9pm
  • When you’re young, elders will remark “you’re so lucky you can still eat what you want and not gain weight, wait until you get older”. You’ll laugh. You’ll always be able to each 25 courses at every sitting and never gain weight. You’ll always be slender and have the taut body of a gymnast. And then you’ll turn 28. You only have to look at a cake and you’ll gain 6lbs and you’re body shape morphs more and more in to that of a potato

 

There was also a few things I was told or believed as a child that turned out not to be true:

  • My Mum always encouraged me to wave to the people on planes in the sky. It was only after I had been cabin crew for about one year did I realise this was in fact a massive lie. I was 23
  • That plucking out a grey hair means that five new ones will appear. Jokes on you all. I plucked out two and ended up with a full head of grey hair by the age of 28
  • Cracking your joints will give you arthritis. Even bigger jokes on you all. I’ve never cracked a joint in my life and look at the state of me

 

What things were you told when you were younger that turned out to be true or not to be true?

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Looking forward to writing a far more health related post on my return to Aberdeen. 5 days after I return I’m straight back to hospital for my next bout of minor surgery on my toes and as this will be my second to last trip for this procedure, I’m going to blog about it. It’s not for the faint hearted so I won’t go in to detail here but if you suffer from psoriasis, and you have it in your nails, then you’ll get my drift and hopefully my next post can be of you some use for you.

For now, I’ll say goodbye. I’ve got a date with Mickey.

 

The London Marathon

So today I should have been running the London Marathon. My first marathon.

I have wanted to run London my entire life. I knew as soon as I started running it was going to be my ultimate target. Getting to this point was 2 years in the making.

Running is my favourite thing.

One year ago exactly today, I ran my first ever Parkrun. I wasn’t sure about going because not only was it chilly and hailing, I had a sore foot. However I went and it was a personal best by 2 minutes, and I was just seconds away from going sub 30 minutes. That sore foot was to be the beginning of my arthritis, and it was to be my last run for almost 6 months.

I did however manage a half marathon, The Great North Run. It was slow and I hurt a different part of my left foot, but I managed it. I felt fit enough, and crucially, strong enough. Just one week later though I came off anti-inflammatories and onto methotrexate and I’ve been on a downward spiral ever since.

Back in the summer of 2016 I applied for a charity place for Arthritis Research UK. I really believed I would get better and be back to my normal self in time. This hasn’t happened.

Today, on marathon day, I am at home, bedbound. Arthritis has taken my left shoulder in the last 4 weeks. I can’t dress or undress myself. I can’t open doors with it. On top of that, inflammation has spread to my top of my spine and my neck. If I turn my head even a little either side I feel like I’m going to be sick. That’s on top of the normal stiffness and swelling I have in both my hips, my ankles and my knees. I am in one of my worst flares for a while.

Watching the marathon on tv has been a painful experience emotionally. I should be there. There is no guarantee that I’ll be there next year but I have to believe it. I have my place for next year. It’s literally next year or never.

The comeback starts today.

If anybody wishes to support me in this impossible quest, please follow the link below

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/RebeccaNorth2