Day 157

Got my walk done, 45 minutes, nothing too dramatic happened, now that my horrendous sweating has become accepted as part of a horrible normality. When i returned home however it was 8.10am, normally this owuld be no problem, as my housemates rarely surface before 10am so i can happily hop into my cold shower and recover, allowing my face to cool to the colour of that of a normal persons by the time they awake. Today we all have an exam though (family law - 2.30 - 6pm just by the by) so nervous anticipation, and last minute panic cramming had woken everyone earlier than normal. I dont mind traumatising my housemates with my appearance, but i do mind waiting for the shower. Luckily our last exam is tomorrow morning, and for the next few days the state of my walks is in jeapordy i dont mind warning you now, as the weekend hold the triple celebration of end of exams, the end of university altogether (for me and kiki, harriet has another year) and the queens jubilee (any excuse for a pimms) so i'll see you when i see you, wish me luck!

Day 156

I decided to stop myself at the stop of the slippery slope (probably slippery from all my swaeat) of passing off a toddle to the corner shop as a peoper walk, as i coud easily have slipped into that ice lolly fuelled routine, and got back on with it today. 7.40am i left the house, and lo and behold it is still too hot. England NEVER has good weather, why now?! Anyway my legs must know me too well as they had gotten themsleves very comfortable very quickly in the idea of not moving much further than to the shop, and began to twinge almost as soon as i passed it and they realised what was going on. I forced them on anyway, and in one of the most uncomfortable walks to date (the heat, my legs, commuters EVERYWHERE) i made it round in my usual time at least. I'd like to say that this has taught me not to have cheeky days off, but i think ive said that before...

Day 155

Weather persists, all i managed was a walk to the shop for an ice lolly today...

Day 154

Right. Thats it. Things are getting out of hand. Can no-one do something about this weather, please! Ive tried my best to be reaosnable about it all, but i am far to sweaty for this to continue. Im frightening small children, this is no good for anyone really. 4 miles, 45 minutes, ive still got it, but its not easy. Knowing my luck my Orlando Bloom jogger is probably just around the corner, and i dont want to see him under these conditions! Oh woe is me for it is sunny for once in England!

Day 153

Today is hotter than yesterday already, im sure of it. And im not happy about it. I havent been sleeping well (in comparison to my normal routine of head hits the pillow (usually at the rock n roll time of 10ish truth be told, then 8 or 9 hours later i spring up again fresh as a daisy) in the heat, and my usually sunny disposition is starting to be effected... today i could feel my pace getting slower and slower, and although i could feel the effort of making my feet stomp stomp stomp slap slap slapping on the pavement i couldnt seem to propel my little lump of a body any quicker, i liken myself to a slug today, as i figured out that it must be all my sweat (yes even on the bottoms of my feet, theres your sexy thought for the day sorted) causing me to stick to the ground. Cursing Brian and Steve who I can only assume to be sweat free on their smug little adventures on the mountains I slithered home, to be pleasently surprised to find that my efforts had kept me up to speed with my usual time, in your faces Brian and Steve!

Day 152

I got up earlier today, hoping to beat the heat... no chance, even setting off at 7.45am did me no good, it just meant that i was seen by more horrified commuters. And summer has thrown another stinger at me. Wasps. The most vile of all things, i hate hate hate wasps, and they hate me too. Today for example, after implementing my public good policy and only doing one four mile lap of the Isle of  Dogs (45 minutes, even this weather cant hold me down) I was on the path back towards the house when i heard the terrible buzzing, time slowed down as i saw the horrendous creature out of the corner of my eye, bearing down on me like an evil yellow (i cant think of anything horrible enough to compare it to) and i had to summon up my very last reserves of energy to scream like the girl i am and leg it to the door. I must be the only person saying this, but as if this weather wasnt bad enough things like this have to start happening! And if the wasps are already in london i dread to think what it'll be like when i go home to the countryside...

Day 151

So im back into the swing of things, the sweaty sweaty swing of things, and was up and out by 8, trying to beat the heat. It was impossible though, and clammy is the word i would use to describe the conditions out there on the mean streets of east london. I was redder than the image that word conjours though i feel, more of a boied clam (or a boiled anything for that matter) I have decided that in these conditions, for the good of society, and to save myself from death by sweat reated dehydration, im going to restrict myself back to 4 milers, at least until my exams are over, then i'll have run out of excuses so may just have to deal with the weather (apologies in advance to those who may have to view this)

Days 146, 147, 148, 149 and 150

So Saturday was Grandmas birthday lunch, followed for me by a friends birthday party that night, as can be predicted, when one starts drinking at noon saturday and doesnt stop til 2am sunday, both days were a walking write off, Monday I managed to raise myself (practically from the dead) and managed to stagger round the 8 miles in 2 hours (dogless, with mam and dad both at work there was no-one to make me take him) and repeated the sucess yesterday. Today I arrived back in London, one housemate not home yet from the night before, and the other one up early to get a mcdonalds breakfast. The recent heat wave meant that, knowing as you all know by now how sweaty I am, walking 8 miles, at 9am, around the streets of London was going to be uncomfortable for everyone. I managed 4 miles though without horrifying too many people with my visage, before slopping back to the house in a puddle of my own revolting juices afte just one lap of the Isle. I fortified myself with the idea that I had to cut my walk short to revise (last two exams 30th and 31st) and can only hope (and im probably the only person doing so) that the weather doesnt stay so lovely, either that or im going to have to start walking by night for everyones benefit.

Days 142, 143, 144 and 145

So Tuesday the exam went ok (i think) but as predicted there was no walk, Wednesday was grandmas big 80th birthday, so no time for one there between presents and lunches and whatnot. Thursday I DID manage to get one in, a quick 8 miler (uneventful, no dog) and today was the usual Friday madness, so not much to report im afraid.

Day 141

My doomsday predictions were all true, my legs hurt even more, and its raining, and my exam is tomorrow (I am NOT freaking out...) so no walk today im afraid...

Day 140

After yesterday i recalled something my very wise self told us all on only the second or third day of this walking malarky; excersise is BAD. I have recalled this following yesterdays running escapade, which lead to severe detraction from todays performance. I limped and hobbled but managed to keep my time secure round the first 4 mile lap, but with stabbing pains crippling me, I couldnt torture myself anymore and skulked home after 45 minutes. I can only hope I'll be ok to get back on track for tomorrow, but while running the risk of sounding like as big a baby as Dad, with mortal wounds like this I really cant promise anything.

Day 139

I dont know about where you are but wherever i am typically as soon as i have to stay inside to do something (in this case exam revision) the weather pulls out all the stops to make it a perfect day to be outside. By 12.30 though I was half way through the assigned revision for the day and half way to losing my mind so I took a walk break. The sun was shining, birds were singing, and of course all this lovely heat went straight to my sweaty little face... I stomped around looking like i was about to blow a house down with my huffing and puffing, and got the first lap done ok. Or so i thought. I glanced down at my phone and somehow my brain computed the numbers to put me half an hour behind schedule ( wasnt in fact, well done eyes) I panicked, and quickened my pace, faster and faster i went until i could no longer control myself and feeling as mad as a march hare (you know by now im slow enough for the effects of march madness to take til may to reach me so this is a perfectly reasonable comparison) i broke into a run! I kept this up for about a mile where i reached the verge of collapse and slowed back to a wobbly walk. It was then i looked again at my phone and realised my mistake. I didnt alter my average speed much though as during the following recovery walk i could have been overtaken by a three legged tortoise. I did make it home in 1 hour 40 minutes though, a time never to be repeated as long as i learn to tell time properly.

Day 138

Just a quick one to say i did my exam (it went as well as it could i suppose) and to report that ive rushed home to revise for the next one (which is on tuesday, rock and roll revision weekend on the cards for me) so i dont have time for a walk today, hopefully i'll get one done tomorrow when the initail panic of knowing nothing for tuesday has passed...
In other news theres been no walking word from Dad or Ed, who I can only assume have ground to a halt without me to inspire them, but stay tuned for me whipping them back into shape later next week.

Days 136 and 137

Yesterday in my efforts to procrastinate i thought id add another blonde hair dye to my already blonde hair, telling myself i was just lightening it up for summer... because this is me we're talking about instead of a sunny yellow like the lady on the box i got, well, grey. All hopes of a walk were abandonned as i could barely bring ,myself to leave the house, and after phone consultations with my mother and best friend Sharon, and a real life consultation with flatmate Harriet (deviser of my 4 mile London walk circuit) I skulked to Asda (its probably less than a mile round trip but thats all Ive got for the day) and bought a nice dark brown.
I only tell you all this because well honestly i need to justify not walking, i know you love to hear about my trials and tribulations, and not to trivialise the nature of this blog but hello, my hair was grey! Not really on. Anyway this morening with exam fear setting in (first one tomorrow eek) I woke up at 5.48am. With no chance of getting back to sleep i thought i may as well get up and crack on. I took my brunette self by surprise when passing a mirror and may have yelped, but made it out of the house at the ungodly hour without waking the flatmates. Hoping that my sleek new hair would make me faster as well as smarter (because all blondes are idiots arent they, i can say these things now mwahahaha) I dashed off out the door. My friend lollipop man wasnt even out and about yet, and sadly i did not see drunk/hobo guy again either. I dids see the sun rise though, and canary wharf looks just lovely in pink. But as i let the cat out on my return (it was too early for him when i went out) 1 hour 50 minutes later, and flopped down on the sofa to type this i didnt feel as exhilerated and fired up to work as i thought i would, in fact im about ready for a nap. But as its only 8am i think ive got time for one!

Days 133, 134 and 135

Sunday was an official rest day spent in Kings Lynn, and yesterday in the spirit of the bank holiday we headed to Thorpe Park, where the weather had put off enough paople to make it pleasently quiet, and we ran (yes I ran!) between roller coasters getting on them with less than 5 minutes queue in most places. I know I cant count it as a walk but we were there 7 hours and my legs did ache on the way hom, so maybe I can kind of count it?
Today Im back in London for last minute revision for exams on Friday and one next Tuesday, so of course Im still avoiding working as much as possible (hence the big bog catch up) so took on my first 8 miler in London. I decided the easiest thing to do would be revert back to my 4 mile circular lap of the Isle of Dogs and do it twice. Simple. Simple and boring I discovered, the only light hearted moment on the dull cold grey stomp being the moment when I saw a man who I can only assume was still drunk from his bank holiday shuffle down the wall to come to a sliding sit on the pavement, explaining to the world in general that he'd just have a little rest. He clapped and cheered as I passed, possibly as I looked such a state I could hvae been a huffing puffing leftover from the marathon last month. He was still there on my second lap, and his clapping and cheering spurred me on. Its unkind to say but I hope he never finds his way home, and can be available to follow me up the 3 peaks on the big day like a mobile support unit. Hope hes there tomorrow, and now with reasonable alternatives exhausted its time to hit the books i suppose

Days 131 and 132

After the sucesses of the previous 2 days, the wise thing to do would be power through the pain and keep the routine going, and get another 8 miler done on the Friday, however an altogether more important routine overruled the sef torture. Friday is a busy hairdressers-food shop-lunch-bingo extravaganza with Grandma, and I may invest in a pedometer to track myself, because all that skivvying leaves me knackered every week.
Saturday I had an unusual walking experience too; on occasion, despite the fact that our house is surrounded by fields and the walkway you all know so much about now, Mam decides that the countryside is simply not good enough for her doggy, and so she pops him in the car and takes him in to town to do a couple of laps of the local park. It all sounds simple and painless, maybe even pleasant? Not with this dog in the equation. "Popping him in the car" involves lashing him to the back seat in his harness, as he refuses to go in the boot, and then wrestling him the whole way wherever we're going to prevent him from trying to sit in the drivers lap for the journey. The 15 minute drive seemed to trake 15 years and we emerged from the car covered in dog hair, dog drool and scratches, war wounds from the battle of the front seat. Mam found it all adorable though, and after being dragged round the park by the idiot animal chasing squirrels, birds and other smaller dogs for an hour she declared him tired and we repeated the process in the drive home, with the dogs hind quaters in the back of the car and his front end wedged in the gap between the front and passenger seats, dribbling contentedly.

Days 129 and 130

Its been a week, I know, but its been a busy one, and I'll tell you why...
Its been a week of three halves as football managers say (kind of) so I hope you'll excuse 3 posts in one day, ive just been revising so hard you see its hard to keep up:
Wednesday the 2nd of May was Eds 20th birthday. Now if id had my way this would have seen us scaling a mountain in celebration (because thats how I roll now) however the world of education doesnt recognise what I want (a massive flaw in the system) and so Eddie had an exam, happy birthday Ed. Dad was also conveniently busy and Mam was at work, but had chastised me harshly saying "poor little Newbie wanna go walkies with Rosie doesnt he, yes he does, yes he does good boy heres a little treat for you aww booboo baba" to the dog of course, but I assumed the message was aimed at me. Reluctantly then having relished my time without him (without bothering trying to apply his specia collar, to see why for previous failures view earlier blogs) I attached his lead and we set off. I strode out masterfully, aiming to conquer the 8 mile walk and the wayward mutt beside me. The dog got under my feet, he wrapped the lead round my legs, he dragged me off after rabbits, and when we got to a point where he was ready to go home he whined, but I ignored all. It began to rain, fat droplets splashing onto us, thick grey clouds rumbling above us, but I ignored all. Like the people on the money supermarket adverts I felt epic. By the time we got home (8 miles, 2 hours 5 minutes) the dog was trudging, and the only thing keeping me going was a cup of tea at the other end, but I did it, drenched and steaming from a mix of sweat and rain (I can only assume the lads mags have got the wrong phone number for me or something as upon reading this stuff they must be gagging to do a photoshoot with me) I made it home, Newbie and the 8 miler firmly put in their place.
If Nuts/Zoo/Fhm etc didnt want me on Wednesday They'd certainly have wanted me on Thursday, hobbling along like John Wayne, bandy legged and wincing, I regretted letting my stretches fall out of use, especailly when increasing the distance as I had. I gingerly limbered up again though, and with Dad suspiciously absent again, and the dog actively hiding from me not wanting a repeat of the day before I set off. Today the distance seemed to stretch on, and on, and on. In the movie at this point the Orlando Bloom jogger would emerge (of course he'd be up north not in London, how silly I'd been) and Scarlett and he would make out in the bushes. Alas nothing so exciting should happen to me, and so I waddled home like a duck in an overfilled nappy  completing my second 8 miler in a row in 2 hours 5 minutes.

Days 126, 127 and 128

After the weekend off for Dads birthday, I got back into the swing of things yesterday. Dads mini rest seems to be extending into a maxi break, as he scooted off early again yesterday morning, his suspiciously bad leg seemed to be holding up ok when he was heading for the door. In addition to my official walk I knew that I's be pounding the pavements all day yesterday shopping for a friends 21st (all the hard work on the walking to be outdone drinking last night) so I got into the zone and ploughed on. I didnt even bother with the dog. Without him and with the threat of rain looming and the shops opening soon (we shop in the style of being the first ones in when they open and making the last purchase before they close, the 3 peaks will be nothing in comparison to our marathon shopping days) I rattled through the countryside, 6 miles in an hour and a half, perfect.
Today I went again without the dog (he didnt seem to mind, he didnt even look up from his kennel when I passed) and I learned again a lesson I should definitely have picked up by now: walking is hard on a hangover. I was meant to be breaking into the 8 milers today, but I couldnt bring myself to do it. I got the 6 miles done though, and waivered and failed to carry on, turning tail and staggering home when I hit the 3 mile half way mark. Tomorrow I'll be showing the 8 miler who's boss, might even take the dog, that'll teach the lazy little git.