Two weeks ago we walked for 13 miles on a sunny Sunday. We tok a bus to Balerno on the southern edge of Edinburgh and headed for a pathway that runs all the way to Leith.
Yesterday we walked for 16 miles on a soggy Sunday morning. It was breezy and a little damp but we kept going. Down the road, across a park, through Stockbridge, along a river, into the city, past the castle and over to the palace, around a windswept extinct volcano, through a park, back past the castle, and down down down and along to the flat. Then we made lunch, collapsed and watched seven episodes of Mad Men.
In two weeks we'll be walking for twenty miles.
Then, two weeks after that, on the 11th June, I'll be having a very quiet Saturday. I'll be eating porridge for breakfast and probably pasta for lunch. I'll be resting. I'll be slathering vaseline on my feet and pulling on my leggings, socks and trainers. And on top? Well on top I'll be wearing a bra. I'll have a fleece in case it gets cold but mostly it will just be the bra. The bra I have yet to decorate. The bra that shows that I, along with 10,000 others, will be walking either a half-marathon or full-marathon from midnight to raise money for breast cancer. I'm doing the full 26.2 miles. I'll be walking through the night and then, come Sunday morning, after Chris has collected me from the finish line and has helped me up the two flights of stairs to our flat, I will fall into bed and dream of the following weekend, of boarding a plane, of meeting up with friends, of holidays.
If you would like to you can sponsor me online here. Last time, in my felt watermelon slice bra, I raised £720 and, at 6am, when my body was giving up and my legs were on auto-pilot I reminded myself of that money and what it would be used for and it helped.