"I need your help" are words you probably will never hear me say (I think I've asked one person...in this lifetime), but offer help, is what I'm known for....plus drinking, staying out late, stage diving, singing, running man dancing and a few other debauched behaviours. I'm doing a charity walk to raise money for Macmillan nurses, with a gang of amazing people, coast to coast Hadrian's Wall.
The odds are against us, as it's May in England, so will probably snow, sleet, hail and blow the bejesus of out of us with gale force winds.....although even more of a concern.....its up north.....as in north of Watford! The organiser speaks northern, so at least can translate and keep us navigating toward the next stop (as in pub). Its forecast for rain, with highs of 2degrees.....as you know I'm from Wales, so should be used to this (oh those endless summers in Wales, you can't beat that shade of grey anywhere in the world), but unfortunately the south has taken me as one of its own, thus making me slightly soft and although not made of sugar (I won't melt in the rain), slightly less rugged(than I was!).
I hasten to add, we might not even stop at a pub over the course of 24hours, so I'm really gambling with the elements. So after taking advice from Bear Grylls and Betty Ford, I'm confident I can make it through!
As some of you may or may not know Colin was diagnosed with stage four cancer and through some miracle/aggressive oncologist/endless nagging pulled through to ten years cancer free. Fuck you cancer. The Macmillan nurses were truly brilliant.
So I need your help, to sponsor me......see it as a way to guilt me into finishing, think of the suffering (the people walking alongside me, listening to me witter on), the sobriety (will we ever find a pub in this outback) and the shame (looking dishevelled, with a bag lady look, hair like a chickens arse, smelling like a wet grandmother).
The odds are against us, as it's May in England, so will probably snow, sleet, hail and blow the bejesus of out of us with gale force winds.....although even more of a concern.....its up north.....as in north of Watford! The organiser speaks northern, so at least can translate and keep us navigating toward the next stop (as in pub). Its forecast for rain, with highs of 2degrees.....as you know I'm from Wales, so should be used to this (oh those endless summers in Wales, you can't beat that shade of grey anywhere in the world), but unfortunately the south has taken me as one of its own, thus making me slightly soft and although not made of sugar (I won't melt in the rain), slightly less rugged(than I was!).
I hasten to add, we might not even stop at a pub over the course of 24hours, so I'm really gambling with the elements. So after taking advice from Bear Grylls and Betty Ford, I'm confident I can make it through!
As some of you may or may not know Colin was diagnosed with stage four cancer and through some miracle/aggressive oncologist/endless nagging pulled through to ten years cancer free. Fuck you cancer. The Macmillan nurses were truly brilliant.
So I need your help, to sponsor me......see it as a way to guilt me into finishing, think of the suffering (the people walking alongside me, listening to me witter on), the sobriety (will we ever find a pub in this outback) and the shame (looking dishevelled, with a bag lady look, hair like a chickens arse, smelling like a wet grandmother).
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