Saturday, 12 May 2012
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.
Friday, 11 May 2012
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.
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.
Thursday, 10 May 2012
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!
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!
Tuesday, 8 May 2012
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
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, 1 May 2012
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.
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.
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