Random | A Slice of Cuplet

this Cuplet gave to thee…
5 running tweeeeeeeets
4 shooting cramps
3 stit-ches
2 poorly tums
And a Cuplet with a big tree

So, I’m five days into the @themarcothon challenge and it hasn’t been the best start. On day one I got the lurgy (thanks husband), by day three this had been joined by agonising stomach cramps and sickness, which made any movement painful, so running probably wasn’t the best idea. But I went anyway. I wouldn’t be defeated by a bit of a sniffle and a touch of tummy nastiness. It was hard as hell though, and definitely not a pretty sight (sorry locals). Day five has seen me return to my local run club, taking on my longest run since September – 5k round the back streets of my town, weaving in and out of stray commuters. It was cold. And dark. And I was the last back to the shop. In short, it was AWFUL. But I did it, albeit rather slowly – 5k in 35 mins or so. And I’ll admit it, it was nice to see the guys at the club again. Especially my friend Rachel (you may remember her from The Code Runner post). She, like my virtual coach @jjbowie, has tried everything to get me back to run club, ending with pleading texts so sweet I ended up tweeting them. Erm, yeah, sorry Rach, didn’t mention that did I? Oops! Totally unrelated, but just wanted to say congrats to Rach, who recently qualified as a run team leader :D. Awesome work mate, so proud of you! Right, back to my point… I’ve not missed the running at all, but I have missed the group :). Big up the Sweatshop Running Community! Oh man, I so can’t get away with saying “big up” can I?! Oh well. Moving on…

It’s been tough, getting back into running. I knew it would be. I haven’t so much as looked at my trainers in 3 months, let alone put them on. If I’m totally honest, the bare minimum 25 minute rule for the Marcothon challenge has pushed me harder than I’d thought. Ok, I’ve been a bit under the weather, but regardless, it’s been a struggle. Checking out the tweets of fellow marcothoners is a bit of a double-edged sword too. It’s cool seeing how many people are taking part, and it’s keeping me motivated. But perhaps not in the right way. Unlike me, who’s struggling to reach the 25 minute marker, wheezing and keeling over and throwing up (ok, that might have been down to the bug rather than the running), these guys aren’t just phoning it in. Oh no. They’re clocking up proper miles! That’s kinda hard for me to read. You see, I’m a little bit competitive. I’ll admit it. It’s sheer bloody mindedness on my part really. If they’re doing it, what can’t I?! Um, well Cups, it’s because they are marathoner runners/ultra runners/regular runners/haven’t-just-had-three-months-off runners? Yeah? And it’s not a competition. It’s a challenge. For yourself. So it doesn’t matter if they’re running farther or longer than you does it? You getting that? Is it sinking in? Nope. Didn’t think. Stupid psyche :). I’m only 5 days in, so it can only get better right? Right?! Bring on days 6-10. I’m limbering up already…

I wasn’t christened Cuplet. I know, shocking right? In fact, I wasn’t christened at all. But that’s another story. No, like most, I have a pretty bland first name, which I’ve never particularly liked (sorry mum), for these three reasons:

Reason one – My name was always suspiciously absent from the personalised stationery/jewellery/other random crap stands at theme parks and tourist attractions. And nine times out of ten, there wouldn’t even be a space for my name. It’s as if it had been deemed so boring that it didn’t warrant five types of garishly clad biros, or a fluorescent yellow plastic ruler in the shape of Winchester Cathedral. Talk about rejection! On every school trip, or family outing, my siblings would pick up armfuls of personalised tat to take home (and then smugly goad me with), whilst I came away with nothing but a postcard and a novelty eraser. Not that I’m bitter about it. Not that it has affected me deeply, or scarred me emotionally. No. I’m a grown up. I don’t hold on to such things…. Ahem… Ok. Back on track now 🙂

Reason two – My name doesn’t lend itself to a nickname. What’s wrong with that you ask? Well, lots actually! Everyone has a nickname. All my school friends had nicknames, the majority of which were based around their first names. Admittedly some were more surname based (my maiden name didn’t really proffer any nickname options either), and some were so random that no-one could remember how they came about! As I moved from school to employment, it was the same. Everyone had a nickname. Former colleagues attempted to find one for me, but they were all rubbish, and never stuck. I think the nearest I came to one actually hanging around for a while was maybe 10 years ago, when someone I worked with decided to start calling everyone by Al Capone-style gangster names. That lasted for about two months. But it was more of an in-joke than a bona fide nickname. And no, I’m not going to tell you what it was :).

Reason three – Um, I just don’t like it.

After years of disastrous attempts, I began to accept that I’d never have a nickname. I’m not entirely sure why having one is so important. Perhaps it’s cos all the cool kids had them, and I desperately wanted to be one of the cool kids. Perhaps it’s cos I thought I’d sound more interesting if I had one. Or maybe it’s just an envy thing; everyone else had one so I WANTED ONE! Who knows?! Anyway, back to the story… About a year ago I was chatting with my mate Joe, and we got onto the subject of how, in his teens, he was a Sea Cadet. This took me somewhat by surprise – how could I’ve not known this?! We’ve been friends for two years! So, naturally, thinking this was totally made up, I demanded a photo of said Sea Cadetiness. A few days later, he produced the most brilliant picture of a baby-faced Joe, decked out in full Sea Cadet regalia. White top, blue flared trousers, little Navy cap, gold buttons (oh the gold buttons…). It. Was. AWESOME. And from then on, I declared that Joe would be called Captain Pugwash. Yes, yes, I’m sure Tom the Cabin Boy probably was more accurate, but I went with Captain Pugwash, ok? That was a bit of a mouthful though, so I soon shortened it to Pugs. Or variations of… Pugly, Puglet, Pugsies. You get the idea.

So, how did I become Cuplet? It’s simple. It was Joe . After the creation of “Pugs”, Joe decided I should have a nickname too, and who was I to argue? I’m a bit of a foodie, and during a chat about cupcakes (oh cupcakes, how I LOVE YOU) and Twiglets (I don’t normally talk about Twiglets, but I go through phases with food at work, and I was having a major Twiglet phase at the time) Joe proclaimed “you eat a lot of cupcakes Paula, and a lot of Twiglets. We should call you Cuplet!” And there you have it. Cuplet was born. There have been variations. Cups, Cupsie, Cupface. I even got called Cupfeet once. And a year on, Cuplet has become not only my longest standing nickname, but also my internet alter-ego, and a cute term of endearment from my closet friends. I am Cuplet. And I like it :).