When Commando said the Itchen Spitfires needed someone to write their newsletter I heard myself volunteer. Sometimes I don’t know when to keep my big fat mouth shut! In all honesty, I didn’t think they’d want a humble walker like myself. Turns out I was wrong. Despite my lack of knowledge of all things running, they did. Still, I’ve made a career of writing about things I know nothing about so why should this be any different? Steep learning curve here we come. When Commando said he’d be running the RR10 at Stoney across tonight it seemed like my chance to add to my nonexistent running knowledge. Continue reading Stoney Cross, sunsets and what on earth is an RR10?
The last gasp of spring before the solstice began with a wet Wednesday morning. It wasn’t quite what I’d hoped for the first walk to work of the week but beggars can’t be choosers so I pulled my hood up and marched along the riverbank. There were a couple of new flowers beside the railway line to brighten my morning. A St John’s Wort had sprung up from nowhere with long, starry stamens and yellow petals edged by black spots. This herb is used to treat depression and the sight of it certainly lifted my mood. The second newcomer was less of a surprise. I’ve been watching the wild sweet pea for a while waiting for the flowers to open. Now they finally have, adding a splash of pink to the greens and yellows. Continue reading Tales from the riverbank
Getting made redundant from Mad House was the best thing that ever happened to me. Even though I’d made some wonderful friends, I’d hated every minute of the job. It felt like three years of hell on earth. It’s possible I was the only person in the building inwardly cheering when they made the announcement. Then I got the job at Silver Helm and it seemed like everything had happened for a reason. Then, on 19 Fenruary 2013, something happened that made me question everything.
Wednesday morning seems to come round way too fast and the time between going to bed on Tuesday night and the annoying alarm at five fifteen on Wednesday morning is way too short. Week three of my early shift and it’s still a struggle to drag myself from my bed. At least there was a beautiful looking sky outside my window, dark blue graduating to a peachy glow with the bare trees silhouetted against it. It almost made the wee small hours worth getting up for. From the look of it one of my neighbours was also up as there was a light in one of the house windows. Continue reading So long, farewell Auf Weidersehen, goodbye
The Moonwalk training plan I downloaded to help me prepare for walking the twenty six point two miles I’d somehow talked myself into included rest days. Strangely, I was finding these more of a problem than the walking days. With such a busy life fitting in two rest days a week seemed impossible. In mid November 2012 I was wrestling with this tricky problem and looking forward to my trip to London with the WLR girls. Continue reading Rest days and more cake – first published 14 November 2012
Something that needed urgent attention if I was going to finish the 2013 Moonwalk was my feet. Twenty six point two mile walks take their toll not to mention the countless miles of training walks that come before. Feet are much neglected things. We stuff them in socks and shoes when we get dressed in the morning and then forget about them unless they cause us pain. Then again that could be just me. Anyhow, part of the Moonwalk master plan included a bit of foot pampering.
Our Paris adventure was over. Dusk was falling as we left the train and pulled our bags past Paul Day’s huge bronze sculpture, The Meeting Place at St Pancras. We made it to Waterloo with prefect timing, the Southampton train was just about to leave. Outside the dirty train window the English countryside sped past as the sun went down. At one point I spotted a sliver of the Itchen Navigation as we passed through Allbrook. We were home. Continue reading Back to reality
Commando collects football scarves from every city we visit and, once he’d had a shower, he wanted to go back to Boulevard Saint Michel to look in a shop he’d spotted where he thought he might be able to get a Paris St Germain scarf. With all the getting lost and the extra walk around Jardin du Luxembourg time was getting on and, when we found ourselves back on Boulevard Saint Michel passing La Croissanterie St Michel, we realised we hadn’t had any lunch. The display of baguettes and cakes was mouthwatering and, after a lot of drooling, we finally settled on a chicken salad baguette to share and a muffin each. Delicious. Continue reading Doing the tourist thing