Now the Million Steps challenge has officially started so every day I’m walking a long loop to the shops rather than going straight up the hill. There are a few variations to choose from, each adding both distance and time to my walks. Some days though, time is at a premium. This was the case on Wednesday. Commando was taking advantage of the hot, dry weather by painting the decking and I was supposed to be helping. To save time, I did a dash straight up the hill and back again, stopping only to snap a couple of pretty flowers along the way. The steps I lost from not taking a long loop were more than made up by all the steps I got painting decking though.
This week I have been getting my head around the enormity of the two challenges I’ve undertaken. The Million Steps Challenge doesn’t begin until 1 July but I’ve worked out I will need to walk around eleven thousand steps a day. Training for the Clarendon Marathon should more than take care of that.
A little while ago I saw a Facebook post about a challenge to walk one million steps between July and September this year. Thirteen weeks walking around 11,000 steps a day seemed doable and the money raised would go to Diabetes UK. As my wonderful Mother in Law, April, suffered with type II Diabetes, it was a charity close to my heart so, on a whim, I signed up.
Today was my final Running School session and I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or sad. The previous sessions had all been extremely tough, pushing me to my limits but there was something almost enjoyable, in a masochistic way, about being tested and getting through it. Maybe enjoyable isn’t the right word and maybe the joy part when they were over was more about having survived. Either way, I set off this morning with mixed feelings. For once there was a good chance of getting wet along the way and I was actually wearing a thin raincoat. Continue reading Slip sliding to the final running school 28 August
For three whole days after my last Running School session, I could barely walk. On day one, Commando laughed every time I groaned and winced as I tried to get out of the chair. It was slightly better on day two but I still looked like an elderly lady who had lost her walking frame. Yesterday I managed to get up the big hill without stopping, but it was slow, painful progress. Oddly, my Achilles hadn’t hurt at all, throughout this epic DOMS extravaganza, my calves were the problem. Today, apart from a little residual calf tenderness, normal service was more or less resumed and we were off to Lymington for another spot of parkrun tourism. Continue reading Lymington, parkrunning and fairy doors
Now we’d been bitten by the parkrun tourism bug we couldn’t seem to stop. Rob said we should declare August parkrun tourism month and try a new venue every week. Everyone was talking about where to go next. The popular vote was Moors Valley and, even though Commando and I had been there last summer, we didn’t want to miss the fun so decided to go along too. Poor Kim had to work so couldn’t join us but our numbers were swelled by Ian and Kate. Continue reading More parkrun tourism, Moors Valley revisited
Frankly, a three hour drive to Walton on Trent was probably not the best thing for my back. Two or so hours in, when we reached Warwick Services, I could barely get out of the car. There was some hobbling around, a loo stop, some much needed food and coffee and then it was back to the car for another interminable, painful hour. At least there was a hotel at the end of it and a chance to walk around, albeit like an old lady who’s lost her walking frame. No photos were taken, apart from one of the hotel door so I’d remember the number when I came back from my hobbling. All this, was yesterday and it was just the precursor to Thunder Run, a twenty four hour endurance race. As far as I could see, at that point, I’d already endured quite enough and it hadn’t even begun yet. Continue reading Setting up camp at Thunder Run
On a normal Saturday morning I can usually be found hanging around on the Common while Commando runs parkrun. Sometimes I volunteer, sometimes I just go for a quiet wander. For three weeks in a row though I’ve been conspicuous in my absence and it’s all down to Commando’s friend Rob and a harebrained scheme to run fifty miles and raise money for Alzheimer’s Research UK. Continue reading Fifty miles
So far there have been no proper walks this month. The most I’ve done is trot up and down to the village or walk around town. Today was going to be all about walking though. Some time ago John mentioned he was thinking about a Summer Challenge, a run from Winchester to Woolston. The Itchen Navigation would make up the majority of the route and he knew I had walked it many times. He asked if I’d lead a walking group for those who were recovering from injury or felt fifteen miles or more was a run too far. When I agreed it seemed like an easy distance. Now, with my fitness compromised by laziness, I wasn’t so sure. Continue reading The Summer Challenge, Winchester to Woolston
Our long day didn’t quite end with the sunset in Paphos yesterday. Although Commando’s legs were weary after three back to back events and my temperamental Achilles tendon was grumbling at a week of almost non stop walking, we still had to eat. There was one last walk up the hill in the dark to the Coral King for a leisurely dinner. As we sipped our after dinner coffee I noticed we’d been sitting beneath a fresco of the Greek warrior Achilles. It seemed quite an irony in the circumstances. Continue reading The last race, medals and beer