Eunoia – nothing to do with Brexit

Another country scratched from my virtual map of blog views this week with one from Papua New Guinea. I suspect it was a miss-click or a link that Google just placed near the top in a search for something quite different. I don’t get much information on people who view (and why should I?) – only the country and the actual page viewed, and even all that only at aggregate level for the day. I will see if I get more views from there in the future, and it has intrigued me. I know very little about Papua New Guinea, apart from that the capital is Port Moresby, it is the eastern part of an island north of Australia, and has more vowels than consonants (not that unusual, there are 41 countries in total), and even the equal highest percentage of vowels (60%), unless one abbreviates United Arab Emirates to UAE, but there again PNG would then be all consonants. That would negate another worthless fact that United Arab Emirates is the country with the longest name with alternate vowels and consonants (there are 34 such countries)….. Potential for this to be the most boring blog post ever, so let’s move on now.

I’ve been as happy and contented as for a while this week. I can’t put my finger on it for definite but it may be due to eating more healthily. Perhaps there are some chemical changes in me, or perhaps it’s nice to even think I’m becoming healthier, losing about four pounds in weight over the week. I can’t say that I have especially missed sugar in my tea, crisps, biscuits, chocolates and cakes but it would be reasonable to assume that I might have an occasional one without falling off whatever mini-wagon onto which I might have clambered. But I am happier and semi-enthused about walking. I am keeping the walks not inordinately lengthy, being mindful of looking after myself and without the latent energy, purpose and confidence in fitness to stretch further at present.

In warm weather, 10 miles is sufficient to constitute ticking over, to build up some sweat with one or two good speed-walking sections and a hill here and there. As I was out, I was poking at the brain’s abacus to reckon that a finish at around 2:40pm would be sufficiently early for me to get in, shower, change and then listen to Pompey blow their promotion chances pull off a massive win at Burton. It would also equate to roughly 10 miles if walking at normal pace. As always, it is vital to use the words something, like, around, about or roughly before citing trivial points with autistic accuracy. I arrived home at precisely 2:40pm and the Google Maps route came out as precisely 10.0 miles.

It was beautiful today. I wandered lonely as a cloud, the only one in the sky it seemed, with a good mix of off-road, paths, side roads and main roads in reaching my double figured distance. It was novel to find how quiet the world was once more than about 50 yards from a main road. One could really find peace in the stillness, like turning the sound down on the world, even for a few minutes, with my footsteps sometimes the only matter in my audible range. Ah, eunoia – the shortest word in the English language with all five vowels. To put you out of your, er, whatever the opposite of eunoia is. It comes from the Greek word εὔνοια, meaning “well mind” or “beautiful thinking”. It is so rare that it doesn’t even appear in many dictionaries.

Hopefully it won’t be rare for me.

 

Return to bananas

Starting a real health kick diet-wise. So far, this consists of not having sugar in my tea, giving up my real sin of white bread and resisting most of anything that has much added sugar. This is just necessary now and I was always going to do this once I’d finished that recent Challenge. The point is that I know that much of what I eat is unhealthy but I still do it in a cognitive dissonance sort of way. At least I have never had any problem having five (or more) pieces of fruit a day, and milk, eggs, cheese and certain yogurts are ok for me. It’s a bit more complex than that but the bottom line is that I have to reduce things like chocolate, biscuits and cake and find healthier alternatives. I noticed the automatic reaching for snacks yesterday evening when I started the washing up – so the habit was obviously quite ingrained. Return to bananas as the snack of choice, after some years.

Of course, exercise is good and I have at least been in a good place there for a few years. I am building up slowly again with a view to undertake an ultra challenge later in the summer, though I’ve not decided which one. I wasn’t that enthusiastic or full of energy this morning, and it’s been a tough week full of minor and major irritations, so I eventually convinced myself to get out of bed and on the road. Note that I did wash and dress in between those two actions. A smoothie (already my regular breakfast anyway) containing blueberries, spinach, cucumber, banana, chia and flax seeds, goji berries, sultanas and granola (with almond milk!), plus a cup of tea and some cereal, and I was on my way.

While the weather transitioned from a bit chilly to drizzle to warm sunshine and then back to even more chilly, I moved from a stroll to more stroll and then more stroll. I need to get used to this new eating regime since I felt as if I didn’t have too many miles in my legs today. I was happy enough with 9 miles, gritted teeth and manful resolve. The only incident of note (and barely that) was having that little side-to-side dance with another man, where you keep inadvertently blocking the other person’s way. I smiled pleasantly, as you do, and he looked at me as if he was thinking about kicking my head in. Thankfully he opted for simply a tut. Some people, eh – always looking for conflict.

Of course, if an eating regime is going to have any marked effect, it needs to be something I can keep to. So I won’t be too hard on myself; I just need to move in the direction of a better diet rather than an immediate all-or-nothing. Simple smallish gradual changes are the name of the game. Cricket teas are going to be a challenge, no doubt…….yes, we have no bananas……

 

 

Return to road duty

The psychological scars will last longer than the physical ones from a fortnight ago, but I was absolutely itching to get out walking again this weekend. It was a measured return to road duty with a gentle 7 miles.

Many people have been wishing me well and asking after me, and this has improved my mood no end. I have reflected that the schedule I set was asking too much with a lot of miles squeezed into the first three days in particular on sometimes difficult ground. It is frustrating that five years ago, a thousand miles was achievable in 10 weeks, but the typical day this time was that much longer. I was starting to get into it after good walks on days 4 and 5 that took in nice routes and scenery, both helped by searching for cycle routes as well as walking routes. The National Cycle Network will be a more than useful resource in planning of any future multi-day walks. Talking of which, I am determined at some time to complete the challenge of walking between the three ONS sites, though not this year, and I know I can find more walker-friendly routes on parts of these. It is a long way ahead, and I will need to decide whether to start again from Titchfield or from the point where I had to finish on that Saturday morning.

Some stuff to do yesterday and a reminder that cricket is coming! Sunday turned out very fine weather-wise and just right for the return to action. It is around an hour’s walk and 3.5 miles to one particular coffee shop so a there-and-back stroll would be in order. I felt it unlikely that I would suffer any pain, given there have been no reactions in the last few days, but I didn’t want to push it at all. Today, I say an hour, but more like 65 minutes which was really taking it easy. I had a nice coffee stop but did need the toilet before I set off home. Both were occupied and, as I waited impatiently with my legs resisting the temptation to cross themselves and the rest of my body refusing to wriggle, thinking of the least exciting things imaginable, the chap finished and held open the door. I don’t know why I smiled and said thanks, since what greeted me was an unflushed toilet and a seat liberally sprinkled with urine. I don’t know about you, but I do everything to avoid leaving facilities in that state. I don’t necessarily want to be loved (though it’s nicer to be loved than hated) but reputation and legacy mean a lot to me. I wouldn’t want to be known as “that bloke who doesn’t clean the bog when he’s made a mess” which is how I will mentally reference him if I ever see his face again – and it is ingrained in my little black book.

At least I did get a newspaper to read and girded myself for the latest edition of Pompey-were-average-and-we-deserved-something-out-of-that-game-says-opposition-manager that is serialised in many a Sunday newspaper. I was not to be disappointed on that front. With that, and the continual don’t-they-know-what-democracy-means  rhetoric around some of the more than tiresome Brexit debacle, I needed the extra 3.5 miles…….