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.