Well I was right (but then again aren't I always) the hard work began. I have swum (in the pool and practically swum in puddles after some questionable weather) I have run (with the children, after the children, away from the children...) I have climbed, I have skipped, I have jumped, I have danced. The 3 Peaks may well be nothing compared to a weekend with 3 under 8s (and its not even as though I was in charge of them!) Today then I'm not home yet, but on the home straight with training, so decided to kick start the last few days with a super energetic run (I know, who am I and what have I done with Rosie) this is mostly because I figure if I do 4 miles at a run its the equivalent of 8 miles at a walk, and not getting lost over a 4 mile stretch is hard enough over foreign terrain - my plan for the unfamiliar mountains is aim upwards, so hopefully there won't be a problem there. You'll be pleased to know that I did it, it would seem that boot-camp Butlins has had no adverse effects, and was actually pretty fun (in its own way)
Sorry this post became delayed amongst the balckberry/email/technophobia... doesnt make me worried about relying on my parents to drive me between mountains when they cant cut paste and upload at all or anything... anyway today seems to be the bleakest of them all, even worse than the day the dog tripped me over, even worse than the day the dog pulled me over (struggling to think of days that were bad that dont involve that blasted dog somehow) as even though i have huffed, puffed, sweated gallons and cursed dad for ever having this idea, ive come to strangely enjoy it, which is where the problem may lie. I have no qualms about going it alone on the mounatins, after weaklings Dad and in turn Ed have had to drop out, and im amazed and chuffed to have raised £285 so far (keep going everyone, the page is www.justgiving.com/onestompatatime thankyou) however, having overcome my love of chocolate and hatred of excersise that had been standing in my way before (in the movie this may be the montage moment...) there is one thing even i cannot control. The weather. Today torrential rain has prevented me from leaving the house, and yesterday Ben Nevis was declared "shut". I am three days away from the Big Day and strangely have never been more up for it than i am now, even on the first day when i was basically blinded by my own optimism. However, i have devised a plan; Ben Nevis, which was going to be my starting point, is the only peak of the three on privately owned land, therefore is the only one i can be physically prevented from having a crack at. Therefore on Saturday we will consult the weather, and if it looks like Scotland is not on we'll change tack and nip to Wales instead to start with Snowdon, in the hopes that the weather will clear by the time we reach Ben (i feel i can drop the "Nevis" like we're pals) and worst case scenario at least i'll have done 2 out of 3. Fingers crossed for the sun coming out though...
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