Reality check. CHECK!!!!

Is it just me? Are our lives just a mess of coincidences, or is there some higher purpose to these significant trivialities?

I seem better dealing with the devastating realities of cancer than the nuances and needs of my work or relationships. Even my shrink would struggle to explain this. It appears to be the one area of life I am capable of tackling with full-on honesty in a way I cannot in virtually every other aspect of my existence.

And even then, this is an honesty with which many would not want to engage.

He4dgirl DOES matter....

I have to learn this stuff all over again. But it's time.

I face the same dilemmas: too little time, too many distractions, too great the aspirations and so insignificant the reality.

But still. One has to start somewhere.

One important distinction. I have no aspirations to be a writer: I do not harbour the faintest belief that I write with sufficient wit, intelligence, grammatical nous, creative expression or anything else that turns thoughts into something that can bring pleasure to others. Neither do I believe I have nothing worth saying.

This is a personal journal. I have no idea where it will end. And I just changed the word 'journal' from journey. I suspect much of the journey will be, as it already has been, deeply personal. The journal represents those parts I choose to share - and often in the safe knowledge that absolutely no-one is reading this.

Apart from 37 users in China, according to the stats from my first ever post over two years ago. Hmmm. Guess we won't read too much into that.

What's brought me back? too much to say here, I'm too tired. Friends troubles. My own troubles. Our joys. The twists of my life. (and Jeez, it twists like a writhing serpent on heat!).

Oh bollocks does it. Maybe in my mind, but I always was way too dramatic.

Trying sometimes doesn't work

The neighbours are ranting. Alison - single mother, nice but mad after a drink or several - is yelling at the nearly teenage daughter. It's a battle of wills - who can keep up the repetition of whatever was last said the longest. And neither are backing down.

At the risk - nay, certainty - of sounding bigoted, they are a product of their class and simply playing out what comes naturally.

Is it always like this?

Of course, this is simply an observance (some would insist 'observation') from one who is gutwrenchingly sad right this moment and so not as objective as the reporting of such incidences should require.

I wish it were possible to download one's thought and feelings sort of by osmosis. I have so much to discuss but so little energy to type

Days like These

Had a rare day off today. OK, on the back of a 4 day weekend (Easter), that may not sound like something to celebrate, but have been working like a demon and spent most of last week in Indy, so a bit jetlagged... and spend most of the weekend staying up all night and sleeping half the day.

Today I went to the Lion King with Mike and Ruth, and Emma and Simon, my God-children. Amazing show - the technology, and puppetry of the animals by the actors, is stunning - the opening five minutes completely takes your breath away. I am ashamed it has taken me so long to see... my mother has been raving about it for years.

So go. Splurge on the really good stall aisle seats and front royal circle. Or a box. And take children. It will cost a small mortgage. But the faces on your children (yours or borrowed) alone will be worth it. And you will find yourself entranced.

And for anyone who has been to Africa, it captures the colour and vibrancy of the savannah to perfection.

And to end a perfect afternoon, I walked home across Regents Park in lovely warm sunshine, then went back out for a run around the lake before the sun went down - the first run of the year in a light evening!

Rambling... of the not-outdoorsy-kind

One of these days I will get home early enough, alert enough, inspired enough and with sufficient willpower to not flop gratefully on the sofa, nosh the meal prepared by my wondeful husband, and watch some mind-numbing tv, to actually start blogging again in some meaningful sense.

That means taking the time to learn the basics of reading and getting read... following and being followed. And thinking of something potentially interesting to say.

On an even less interesting note, Insomnia was great - though I have either read it before and forgotten (not unusual), or there is striking similarity with another tale, possibly Hearts of Atlantis? (striking similarities also not unusual amongst certain King books). Also read Duma Key. Much better than I was originally lead to believe, albeit slightly formulaic in the mould of earlier stuff.

Now... what picture for this?

I know... baby Alfers... darling god-child and he of the sickness bug from hell that wiped me out for three days in Indianapolis after attending his first birthday party immediately before getting on the plane. Trust me, I have seen more of the inside of every possible bathroom between Heathrow and the Westin in Indy than I ever, EVER want to see again. Thankfully, I can absolutely vouch for the top quality of the beds at the Westin. When I wasn't working or throwing up, I was in it!

Insomnia

I am happy again. Mum bought me Insomnia by Stephen King for Christmas. So my nose is buried in that rather than all the other chores - including a somewhat urgent tax return - that I should be doing. And of course, no matter how late I go to bed, I shall read a little. Ironic, huh? Or just a very apt title? ;-)

BTW, I was intrigued by the references to it in TDT, and didn't think I had read it... I have a sneaking suspicion I might have done (though years and years ago and I am not remembering the plot) - though in the knowledge that SK weaves multifarious threads of common story elements through so many of his books (some characters pop up in the strangest of places), I cannot be sure at all. But I have forgotten (and could not find when I was at mums at the weekend - she has the SK library, you understand) what the references were to Insomnia in TDT. I have a vague notion; but I suppose I shall just have to wait and see / work it out as I get through it.

An Ode to Tim

Ok, it is a long time since I posted and I also promised Tim a testimonial, so here it is (though I don't suspect for a minute he expected me to blog it; but hey, if a thing's worth talking about...)

I also cannot remember the settings I set up on this, so I will doubt spend endless hours going back and forth getting the spacing right. One day I will actually read all the instructions properly and write down such salient points, but for now such aspirations do, as ever, elude me.

So, let me first set some context...

Andrew and I go to the Lake District every year, usually in Spring; and walk our butts off for a week in the good clean air of Cumbria. Such exploits have in the past largely been shared with our dearest friends Tom and Jane (and Olls of course, and even the dogs sometimes, depending on the property we hired): more recently Jamie and Freya have joined us, and Katie and Vince (most fortunate to LIVE in the Duddon Valley!) come over for dinner.

It had been impressed most decidedly on my mind over the last few years that, though my stamina remained a force to be reckoned with, my actual fitness levels were getting lower and lower with each passing year, such that, though I still got up and down every hill or mountain we set our caps at, they took me a damn sight longer and seemed a bloody sight harder than before. My inner voice - that most dratted of truth-sayers! - most annoyingly kept reminding me that I had managed Helvellyn (>900m) when I was still on chemotherapy better than I was managing 4-600m these days.

Enter Tim Hagon

Tim is - was - a colleague from my days in the digital side of newspapers, and we'd always rubbed along pretty well. Indeed, the last year or so I was with Newsquest /Fish4 I think we did some of our best work ever. The fact that still so little changed, is probably one of the reasons neither of us are still in that particular game any more.

Anyway, Tim left the corporate game to start his own business about six months or so after I left. I heard he was starting as a Personal Trainer, and it seemed a no-brainer: I needed some serious attention to fitness levels, and here was someone I trusted who could help. Game on.

We started working together again - in a very different way! (he was most definitely in charge this time) in late January 2008. Frankly, I have never looked back.

Getting started is always the hardest thing, so once that was done, frankly, its been uphill all the way (that's a pun you understand?!:-)). We met for coffee - I had a Grande Latte, he had a water - be warned, he starts as he means to go on - and had a great kick-off conversation which in and of itself left me energised and with loads of tips for healthier eating (out with the croissants, in with the breakfast cereal with fruit or bacon sandwiches, for starters).

I shall not document the hours and months that followed, but here are a few things that surprised the pants off me (not literally, you understand, in Tim's company anyway!)...

1. Six weeks after a standing start with Tim (ie; he was working with virgin" material!) I was almost haring up every vertical incline the Lakes had to offer. The first outing was the real teller - we went up a real steep killer of a start to Sheffield Pike, and I completely outpaced my (normally much fitter ex-sportsman) husband. He got his own back the next day (I swore he read my diary, but maybe not) but I hung onto my ability to compete on equal terms - and boy did I feel great about that!!!!

2. I came back from the Lakes wanting more. I had envisioned maybe three-six months of engagement, but all of a sudden that seemed ridiculous. And right now, even with "credit crunch" stuff going on left right and centre, I will fight to the death to keep my sessions with Tim. They are not just good for me physically, they help me keep my mental balance. I am still learning the psychological dicipline necessary to make permanent and irrevocable lifestyle changes to the way I live. I [I have just tried several stabs at the next sentence and am now cutting the bullshit] am a work-nut who thinks nothing of putting in 12-18 hour days, so learning to quit to keep to Tim's schedule a couple of times a week was, and still is, a challenge for me. But one I am very happy and comfortable to be working on, and believe me, I am a lot better for it. Though old habits die hard :-)

3. I learnt to love running. For someone that has had a lifelong hatred of it since school, that is, I can assure you, a most particularly remarkable position to find myself in.

So, a year later, and I cannot imagine being without Tim. I love our chats during our sessions. Times in Regents Park when I was trying to do a certain exercise and kept laughing so hard I fell over are probably not in Tim's book of must-have's, but they are most definitely in mine. The Garmin training watch thingy he recommended has made a real difference to my "just me" sessions, and his little bits of adhoc advice have helped me make a real difference to my life.

And here's a final thing for all you weight-worriers: Tim said right from the start something like "don't think about weight, just think about what you are eating and doing, and the rest will take care of itself". And gave me some tips. Well, for the first few months it didn't, but hell - keep the faith! because you know what? It DOES take care of itself. I have dropped half a stone and now happily sit around 9st no matter what, which is the right level for my body shape and mass - and my eating and drinking habits have actually benefitted!

So, my first public endorsement: if you want to change your lifestyle, engage a professional - it seems like a lot of money to start with, but believe me, it is not. And if you live in the environs of Teddington / south London / selected areas in north London - Tim Hagon is most definitely your man. A nicer (but firm) and more effective person you could not possibly, ever, hope to meet.

Lost without Mid-World

I have a terribly empty feeling.

Before TDT (The Dark Tower) I had no particular expectations when leaving home/work; sitting at the bus stop / on the tube / passing time waiting for physio appointments; etc etc etc as Yul Brynner might say. Every moment "wasted" was a moment gained, a moment more I could spend in Roland's world.

No more. I have come to the clearing at the end of the path. I know where it ends, and where indeed it begins again. And now when I go home at the end of a long day at work, I have no tale of Roland's ka-tet to look forward to - and it feels really weird

And honestly, what book do you choose to follow that? Andrew has lined up Gerald Durrells A Zoo in My Luggage, and brilliant though it will be, it just isn't the right book to read next. I am tempted to start Tolkeins's Rings series, which I desperately want to begin, but I worry the story will be - how shall I say - less accessible, compared to the most compulsive pen of mister king.

Wish me luck.

Lost in Mid-World

How did it get to be nearly two weeks since I last posted? Overtaken by work again? Partly. More likely I saw mum the weekend before last, and borrowed the last in Stephen King's Dark Tower epic series... so I am afriad my nose has been buried up to the hilt at every waking opportunity!

Its an enormous book, but I take it on the tube every day. I sit up till way past bedtime reading. Half my waking weekend is spent buried in it. Thats what I call a great book, and great writing: when you can happily lose whole tracts of time lost in another world. And it's so very relaxing.

I heard on the radio this morning (yes, R2: I'm a TOG) that no-one knows how to use apostrophes anymore. Check that. Even having read Lynn Truss's Eats Shoots and Leaves, a really good book, I still have only a middling concept. Actually, I think I'm worse. I used to rely on what looked right: now I'm just paranoid and get it wrong even more than I did before. No one who knows me will be surpised about that.

So; I had a tale of redemption to tell about online shopping at Boots .com, except now I am too tired to tell it. Suffice to say the redemption came from a certain Boots employee in the huge Oxford Street branch, not the online version. When will companies learn that online customer interactions have twice as much power to destroy brand perception and engagement!?

Oh dear oh dear. There are not many things I go girly over, but Rupert Penry-Jones is an exception - especially after we were behind them (wife Dervla, kids and other bloke) in the check-in at Heathrow on our way to Kenya the year before last. And no it wasn't first class - they went baggage same as us. And he is a dwaf in the flesh, believe me!

So I have been looking forward to tonights Spooks... and they've gone and blown him up! How inconsiderate is that?! What is a girl to do for eye-candy now?

I shall remain inconsolable for at least another ten minutes.

Actually, I think I'm starting to fancy Jo... all that cropped blonde hair, big eyes and hidden anguish. Do you think she'd share lipsticks?