I've decided that the creative arts are not for me. I still can't boil spaghetti and I think there's an arrest warrant out against me for public indecency. So onward now to a new challenge - running a marathon.
I've decided that there will be safety in numbers. And no matter how ridiculous I look in lycra, I can't look any worse than the guy in the galloping urinal, or the other guy dressed as a demented hen. Well, at least I hope not. Maybe I'll use them as pacemakers.
So I'll burst through that starting line full of enthusiasm, knowing I could beat a galloping urinal any day of the week. Or will I be in a one-woman race? I do have a track record for beating myself, you know.