Tight assed blondes

Thirty four miles and 13 walks later I have walked through wind and driving rain and darkness and daylight.  I have been overtaken by so many tight assed blondes who just glide by me with their little tight leggins and padded sleevless jackets, how I hate them, I want them to trip most of them have a funny walk like a half run.  I am not a speedy gonzales in any way shape or form.  I have my own speed and I hit it and off I go, happily, sometimes wrecked after a days work but I go and it is good to work out stuff in my head. 

I have lost 5 lbs since I started, thought it would be more but I have to look at my diet, sometimes I think I am not eating enough and I know I am certainly not drinking enough water and thats another thing when I am walking it is impossible to tell yourself you dont need to pee when you do.  I had to run into the Penny Hill last night and then Lisa and I had a drink, I was sorely tempted to stay there for the evening, dont know when I did something like that but I went home just as well because I had no dinner and was hungry.  I think I am losing inches though.

I hate walking clockwise, I prefer to listen to the radio than music and I detest people who bring their dog for a walk and let them do their business on the footpath and just walk off not cleaning up after them.  I mostly walk 4 or 5 km but sometimes less, eg today I walked on my lunch hour I just did 2km.  I see myself building up, though it is not too nice walking in the cold dark evening but they are getting longer. 

The Journey

I lay in bed in a half sleep and it came into my head - 366 walks. It made complete sense to me, 366 days in the year and one hour out of each of the 366 to be devoted to myself, my wellbeing and health. Before I even got out of the bed I knew that I was going for a walk. I swung out of the bed at 9.30, found my shoes, my jacket with all the pockets for iphone, tissue, keys and glasses, set my imapmywalk and off I went into the cold bright morning. It is the 1st January there is not a soul out except one other lady, everyone is having a lie in I guess. I listen to Miriam Meets on Radio 1 she is talking to Mary Coughlan and her therapist Maura who helped her overcome her addictions and led her back to health. Near the end of the interview Maura reads "The Journey" by Mary Oliver. The poem just struck a cord with me and I knew it would have to be my mantra for this journey of mine. I will have to be selfish and do this for myself.     

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do
-- determined to save
the only life you could save.

~ Mary Oliver ~