Why moving isn’t everything, but it’s a start

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So it’s exactly 5 weeks today until I make the big move to Italy (also the day of the Brighton half – my last UK race as a UK citizen).

Even the thought of going has lifted my spirits and got me back on the exercise and healthy eating wagon.

No more late nights drinking wine or smoking for me (well, not on a school night anyway). I’m not naive enough to think that Italy will be the answer to all of my prayers – far from it. I fully expect to go back a few steps before I can go forward, but my overall goal is simple: to improve my quality of life. Or indeed, to get a life.

By quality of life I mean simple things like making new friends and having time to see them at least once or twice a month, going out more, and having the time and energy to enjoy my passions: cooking, dressing well, writing more, and exercising.

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My running buddies and I on our 2-hour long run this week.

I have the Northern European disease and it’s killing me from the inside. I work, I eat, I sleep and repeat. I don’t appreciate anything and a lot of the time I don’t really feel anything – I’m floating along in this existence not really knowing what any of it is for, but I do it because society dictates it. What’s the point in being this miserable if I have to buy myself material things that I don’t have time to use or appreciate, to help myself feel happy.  I am the embodiment of the saying ‘All dressed up with nowhere to go’.

I’m hoping Italy will remind me again to smile at the simple things in life and not worry about the trivial things and things that I cannot change (i.e., the fact that some people are arse holes, and clients often have unrealistic expectations).

If at the end of it all I land myself with a good Italian husband, well that’s a bonus right? 😉

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