3 out of 3 ain’t bad

A third walk in three days, 22.5 miles that took me up to 52 miles for the longer than usual weekend. I actually find more walking helps me – I don’t hurt quite as much if I walk more regularly and that might be a good sign for the months ahead. Mind you, 63 days walking out of 73 days is a different kettle of fish to 3 out of 3.

I often like quite an early break, sometimes within the first 5 miles and that is the case today. Costa Coffee unfortunately has no newspapers on its rack, so for a little while I had to make my own entertainment. Three of the four newspapers have been commandeered by one bloke, who is seemingly comparing the reports and player ratings from the Arsenal – Southampton game. Look, mush, you lost, ok Lallana only got a 6 and he might have deserved a 7, but just get over it and look forward to the next game. Thankfully, the other newspaper becomes free and I have ten minutes or so with The Sunday Times before setting off back on the road. Scummer matey is still seething over the press.

I had a choice of ways to go and decided to walk over Itchen Bridge, noticing plenty of Samaritans signs on the bridge – if I wanted to kill myself drowning wouldn’t be my favourite or chosen method. I guess most people must have wondered at least fleetingly what the world would be like without them, how others would perceive them, who would go to their funeral, who would be sad – I’ve had my own It’s A Wonderful Life moments without seriously thinking about ending it all. Every day there are reminders in the news that there are far more unfortunate people than me, the three women subject to 30 years of slavery being the current one. Sometimes I have to remember how lucky I am – a lovely wife and great son, a job that suits me, no worries about money and the opportunity to undertake a great adventure. It doesn’t work for everyone, but it does for me – exercise has certainly been a massive anti-depressant, better than any medication could have been (and I have those as well, for good measure). 

The time whizzes by with some rather remarkable football and egg-chasing on the radio and this does mask a pain in my heel that comes after about 16 miles. Not terrible but just nagging. Other than that, no physical damage; a blister on my big toe is gradually healing by hard skinning itself. A quick shower and the world is great again.

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