Je suis fatigué

What better time than to write another blog than whilst visiting my parents in their home in France. Let me just say we're not posh or rich, they just sold up in England and followed a dream to France. We should all try it some time, the dream following bit. It's done wonders for them.

It's been a relatively lazy (and boozy) few days visiting them to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary. But I decided at some point this afternoon, enough was enough. I think it was just as I felt my thighs take on the consistency of sourdough and cream cheese, that I bolted to the bedroom to change my clothes. I decided to go for a run.

Now this in itself isn't an odd thing other than the fact that I haven't been for a run in five years. I know it's five years because in 2010, I finished the London Marathon. And since then my struggle to run has been gradually becoming more of a struggle. If you've read my other blog you know I've had an awful time with a Morton's neuroma, which following surgery has developed into arthritis. Perhaps it was always arthritis coming on but no one could see the horse when they could see a Morton's zebra. But I digress.

Running hurts; it isn't excruciating pain (I'm not stupid...well not that stupid) but it's definitely like toothache in my foot. Sometimes the covers in bed on my fore foot creates pain but what the hell, if sleeping hurts me why not live a little. And yeah and it's starting to hurt the right foot too. I can't bend some of my toes but I will not let that stop me occasionally wearing FM shoes and exercising, I just have to modify it sometimes ie: a wedge heel not a stiletto and walking plank jacks not regular plank jacks.

As number 1 of my 45 at 45 is to 'run another marathon' I decided I needed to start sometime. Today was the day. Let the running commence. I was out just under an hour and I did a nice run walk combo, saw some buzzards, a very large barky dog, got hailed on but also the sunshine smiled its pretty, buttery face at me. All in all, a pleasant experience.

I dodged muddy puddles, saw signs warning me of 'le chasse' and turned tail as soon as the scary grey clouds rolled in, but I did it. I ran and I feel confident that my October marathon is doable if I start slowly and 'build up to beefcake'. Or more realistically 'build up to beanpole'. I already have a beefcake like ass.

It may be the late nights and free flowing booze but suddenly, je suis fatigué. Bed time at 9pm, so rock and roll. This getting fit and doing stuff may be harder than I think.


https://www.justgiving.com/Sarah-Whittaker-Gilbey/

#myLDNtoPRS

#cyclingforAndy

#my45at45

My LDN to PRS

So that's it, it's official, the year really does start here. Happy Birthday to me and all that.

My plans are coming together to make this a year of 'getting fit and doing stuff', but it's not just about me. Something started all of this off last year that made me take stock of life in general.  The sad news of the death of an old friend, a bloody good fella who had made me laugh and helped my business start up in the late 90's made me realise that life wasn't something you should wait for.

On August 9th 2014, Andrew Charlton or as I always knew him Andy Jarrod, was killed whilst out riding his bike in Northumberland. As the news filtered through the music industry grapevine, my husband and I were in shock that something so awful could happen to someone who had been so important to us. He never knew that and I guess I'd always thought that at some point in the future we'd all get together, remember the good times (and the bad) and say how important he was to us. But after hearing the news it was a harsh reminder to never let a moment go by that you don't treasure or value, to try to do something to make your life count.

Andy's wife Katy was left with their two and half year old son Oscar and two month old twins Eleanor and Chloe in the knowledge that this quirky, funny, family man wouldn't be there to see the kids grow up but she made a final decision for Andy that day. He was a registered organ donor and had discussed his wishes with Katy, since his death five people who were on the donor waiting list have been recipients of his organs.

There's absolutely nothing I can do to change what's happened to Andy or help with his family's sadness, but on the 22nd of July I will start a bike ride from London to Paris in Andy's memory. I'll cover around 80 miles per day over a four day period and to be honest I'm fearful for my ass cheeks. I'm as rubbish a cyclist as I was a runner but I completed the London Marathon in 2010 and will take on this new challenge and give it 100%. I have to, I owe it to Andy, this is my way of saying just how much he meant to me and my husband.

My aim is to raise £2000 for cystic fibrosis, (Andy's little boy suffers from the disease) and to raise awareness of the organ donor register.

https://www.justgiving.com/Sarah-Whittaker-Gilbey/

I'd love it if you would sponsor me, even just a few quid would help. I'd also really love it if you made sure at some point soon you spoke to your loved ones and had a difficult but important conversation and told them if you would like to donate after your death. 

Thanks for reading

Read Organ Donation: Andy's Last Wish

The Universe and other such Woo Woo

It's amazing how when you start to talk about your ideas and plans that things come along that help you along the way. Universe, opportunity, openness; call it what you will, sometimes the stars just align. This has happened to me recently.

Number 2 on the list is 'to go rock climbing' and a living social offer popped up in my email folder along with all the usually spammy junk, with a four week introductory course at a Sheffield indoor wall. I never said I wanted to do it in the great outdoors in the freezing cold, grey dampness of the Yorkshire countryside, as beautiful as that can be (generally when it's not freezing cold or grey and damp) the cold ain't for me; #raynauds anyone? So I just need to book myself in for my eight hours of indoor climbing in downtown Sheffield. Maybe, just maybe when the Peak District is calling in the summertime, I might make it to Stanage Edge for a wee bit of outdoor action. Think of it as a vertical challenge for the vertically challenged.

 Stanage Edge, thanks to Rick Harrison for the photo

So the second time the Universe smiled upon my45at45 was when I mentioned to the very lovely Ms Rae Shearer that I was going to 'knit something'. I know that doesn't sound exciting which is why it's only at number 36 on the list but it's still going to be something I achieve in my 'year and a bit'. Hopefully I'll complete a few more rows than Rae and knock up a scarf or something easy peasy with the bag of wool and knitting needles she has kindly sent my way. 

And finally my decision to 'take a course on public speaking' coincided with the delivery of a Coursera 'Introduction to Public Speaking' course delivered by University of Washington. Yeah go figure, I've sung on stage in front of thousands of people but delivering a presentation to a room full of people puts the fear of of a thousand fears in me. So I thought I'd push myself out of a cerebral comfort zone as well as one filled with adventure and excitement.

And for the record, if you haven't checked out Coursera yet, do so. The range of courses being delivered by top of the range Universities is immense, there's definitely something for everyone and they're free, yes, F-R-E-E; oh how I love that word. And if Yankee drawl isn't for you, Future Learn is the new Open University backed equivalent here in the UK, so there, you have no excuses.

You're never too old to learn something new. Not even when you're 45.