annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


And I will walk 500 miles

I'm going to post the link to donating for ED's wheelchair-accessible vehicle on every entry, at least until we've done the walk, because desperate times call for desperate measures and I know from the stats that there are regular but intermittent readers who only ever read one page per visit but may still like to help a person help her daughter have some kind of fucking life. Accepts all currencies, don't need to use the payingpalthing.
Click here to donate

So. All that with the rent really did for me yesterday. (Sudden increase of a hundred quid a month.) I didn't mind living in skanky damp places when I was young, but the thought of it now is unbearable. The thought of moving at all is grim, unless it's sometime in the future, to somewhere I could imagine myself living for decades. (This place is almost that, but the shady, completely decked garden never stops being a bit of a bummer.) Anyway, I fell right off the edge, crikey, it was nasty for a while, thinking I'd have to move right at the time ED needs more support than ever before, knowing how huge both of those things are separately, never mind together. Knowing I couldn't ditch either of them, but couldn't do them both. And then Son swans in and says, 'Christ, Ma, I'll pay that. It's only 100 a month,' and he means it and is happy to be in a position to help (he's just been taken on as permanent staff on double the agency wages), not up for discussion, it's sorted. Wow.

Of course the emotions can't turn back round quite so easily - I was no longer in despair but it took all day for the after-shocks to die right down. I don't need this kind of shit, and now I feel disconnected from my primary purpose which is to try and puzzle out the best resolution of ED's dilemma, whilst continuing to train for the sponsored walk and harass people into sponsoring me.

But off I went this morning, with the intention of completing six miles - three there and then back again, up the river estuary. But after little more than two miles my leg muscles were knackered and I had to turn back. The last mile home was torture - a fierce wind had got up, I wanted a piss with increasing urgency, and my legs just hurt and hurt and hurt some more. Luckily there are makeshift benches at regular intervals and I staggered from one to the next, lying down full length and trying to totally relax:

but it was all a bit fucking hard. I don't know if this is normal, so I don't know how to proceed - should I do a few more shorter walks, or stick at four miles, or ignore the pain and try and push on up to five? I've got a month to get up to ten. I've looked online, but it all seems to be for people who've only ever walked to their car - "Walk for 5 minutes on day 1 and 2, 10 minutes on day 3, 5 on day 4 etc" - I mean, Jesus, do people really live like that? My four miles took about two hours, but most of that was the last mile. Ah well.

Grateful for: all the donations, both big and small - I love to think of the people who'll always be a part of this now; my sis, for making me ravioli when I finally dragged up to her place; SIL for keeping going through these hard times; my Son, hurrah for the prodigal boy; my bed, calling me to its warm embrace...

Sweet dreams xx

9:31 p.m. - 15.09.13


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