Can dream binge drinking inflict real life hangovers? . . .

It was a horrendous sleep, I barely got a wink. The wink I managed to achieve was a totally out of character related dream of me over indulging in red wine. Somehow, this translated into the non dream world of me believing that I am not only sleep deprived but hung over from drinking red wine, which makes you question as to how much a hangover is a mental game.

Being the brave girl that I am, for the 6.30 morning run today I decided to tackle st Patricks route with me, myself and my ipod.

Let the hills commence.

Firstly this run begins by running down a huge hill, which is a great way to start a run, as long as you keep out your mind that as you are going down there is only one way back up. As daunting as this run was once I had turned off at st Patricks school, the point of no return, I really felt good on this run. Sun rise looking spectacular, cows grazing in the fields, other fellow amazingly better than me at running runners and just ready to run singing my heart out as I tackled hill after hill, I would say 110 times better than I had done this route the other day. I can finally say that im happy to say ive acclimatised to the altitude and find my breathing much easier to cope with and my fitness has, improved might not be the right word, but my body has agreed not to fight the shock of exercise to the system anymore. Fabulous news.

My cool down, which consists of a walk either from the top of the steep hill I begin at or at the bottom if I feel I may keel over, I met a girl who was in form one, who spoke amazing English. I walked with her, as she by passes the camp for about 5minutes really testing her English to see how much she knew. The majority of kids here can only say 'hi how are you', which they scream annoyingly at you over and over and over and over and over, did I mention over? Again. This is why I either ignore them or high five pretending im a celebrity as I pass them by, makes me feel oh so special. I talked about how I live by the beach asking if she had ever been to a beach with her living up a mountain hill thing. I was informed that in form 2 they go to Mombasa for a school trip and she told me how she cant swim but wants to swim in the sea etc etc, I was just amazed at her English.

Once I got over my astonishment of this clever clever little girl who makes me want to become cleverer, I had breakfast, oh the peanut butter and chai. I know I rant and rave about this glue food, but, wow peanut butter, I now even think I have the right to slag off the crap tubs that are sometimes on offer, as if I would know any better, for me the chunkier the better, with less additives of course. And apparently you can go somewhere in new York, maybe even the whole of America, and they make fresh peanut butter for you, just blending the peanuts right there in front of you. Absolutely amazing. What an overwhelming morning.

With all this overwhelming-ness tiring me out, as we still don't have water in our rooms, I popped to the gym for a shower before, like the pros, hitting the sack for a snooze to let this body of mine have a time out to recuperate.

While waiting for the 10.45 drill chat and practical session, Angela and moi had our regular chats, oh how im going to miss the b****iness.

As expected, we talked about drills in our talk, then went on the all weather track to complete our drills. Oh my, oh my, oh my, who woulda thought that such an occasion would end up with me in tears with laughter. Poor, poor, poor John, eee I just couldn't help myself. We had been through basic drills, then slowly to progress were adding a bounce. This particular bouncy number, was skipping with high knees, hips level and concentrating more on height than moving forward. Well I love to skip, I find it so fancy free. John, being typical bloke in the skipping department, looked like he was doing some freaky irish jig. Once I started, I just couldn't behave myself, I was uncontrollable. This really did make my day. Ive never seen something so funny in a while, but poor, poor john, I apologise if I offended you but it was all in good humour. Five minutes later I managed to calm myself down, but had to concentrate not to repeat it in my head, as I just kept setting myself off.

After our audience of kids had been entertained of our drills, we headed back for dinner. It was a matter of me waiting for my 1pm massage appointment that I was dreading big time. I honestly don't know how I can put myself through such agonising pain over and over again, especially over fresh massage bruises, ooo nasty.

The guy massaging today was different to the guy I massaging on Thursday. First impressions were mixed as alot, emphasising on alot of focus was on my right calf, leaving what felt like lumps to the back of the right side of my knee, which was repeated on the left side. As he dug his elbows into my legs, well the pain was just oh so nasty that I just hid my face under the towel and every now and then peeked out to see the guy just gazing around the room, or scarily staring at me. He barely touched my back and I can now confirm my bum is no longer a tickly area but a painful one.

For some reason when I was popping on my clothes after he had finished he stayed in the room, which just meant I had to dig me face into the table while tying my bikini top, but it just felt a bit weird. So when I got out I told Car about my massage, where I barely uttered a word to the guy, then felt the need to go and scrub myself clean!

Topping up the tan on the pool side just chilling and talking making my boobs have a fantastic white triangular effect going on. Followed by me and Car having naked sauna time together, where I got the ins and outs of her date that she had been on the night before with the guy I call ponytail. A German trainee physio who has blonde hair long enough to tie up. I loved the fact that 'he got his pony tail out and gave it a shake'. Car had been rather hungover and extremely sleep deprived, on leaving the sauna and during the naked cold shower time we ended up talking for a while to Lornah about drinking boys and how older women going out with younger guys, well does it really work? Why does it work the other way round?

Food, food, food, where I salted the bottom of my slice of pineapple that I always give to Chris(normally without salt, as I try not to mix fruit with other food groups or I get trapped wind), he was not impressed, I was just in a mean mood for no reason.

Followed by chill chill chill in the chill out lounge, we had started to watch the in betweeners but as it was raining and pouring it makes so much noise on the roof that you cant hear the tv on full blast. Angela joined tonight in the chill out lounge, so we ended up crying with laughter reliving the 'irish jig' moment alongside other funny moments. I know its mean but I do love laughing at other peoples expense.xx