Cellular memory

36 years ago I decided that running was frightfully boring and that I was much better off with a Gauloises and a glass of wine. I was living in Paris at the time, hanging with some rather wonderful people and misspending my youth!
They say that our muscles have a cellular memory which is just as well as my brain seems to have forgotten loads of important information. Anyway this cellular memory was jogged (quite literally) into being when a colleague at work suggested we start a running group. It was ok for her as she was sickeningly fit as she is an obsessional marathon runner. Anyway several of us took her up on the offer and started jogging once a week. What surprised everyone including myself was that I not only managed to run 3 miles the first session but that I chatted all the way and didn't seem out of breath at the end! When I said it surprised them, what I really mean is that they were pissed off and suggested I had been secretly practising! I hadn't at all but did suggest it was down to drinking copious amounts of Aloe Vera every day which lubricates my joints and ensures my body is stress free. 
Anyway the net result was that it kinda kick started my cellular memory and set me on a path that would see me running my first half marathon in October 09!


I decided that if I could run at 16 then I could run at 52! Yes I know there is no logical rhyme or reason to say that, except that I had told myself about this cellular memory and so therefore believed that it was this that would carry me over 13miles. 
I have always wanted to do something for unicef as they are an international charity that develops long term solutions to the challenges faced by children, young people and their families in many developing countries. So I felt that with this newly unleashed latent 'talent' I would do some challenges for unicef to try and raise much needed funds.
So I signed up to the Royal Parks Half Marathon in London! I think I signed up in about May time with the idea that I would get some training in before the event and ensure I didn't need a heart lung transplant or resuscitation half way around the course. Hahaha.. all the best laid plans and all that! 


Anyway my eldest son Chris suggested we walk up Ben Nevis in September, so I joined a gym to get some leg work in. I never really spent more than 40 mins a session at the gym and quite frankly found it boring! 
I have done a little trekking in the Himalaya but Ben Nevis is something else, especially on a day when its lashing down with rain and howling a gale as it was when we got two thirds of the way up. God my buttocks ached!  There was even some snow at the top and we couldn't see a damn thing.

Me at the top of Ben Nevis

Thank goodness for Goretex is all I can say! 

So after Ben Nevis I thought I'd see if I could get some long runs in to prepare myself for the half marathon. Did I heck? I think I ran one 5 miler! The rest were the odd 3 miler or a shorter distance when out with the dog in the morning and then there'd be wee stops (for the dog not me!). 

A few weeks before the Royal Parks my partner Jay and I took part in the 2009 European Charity Landy Rally. Driving our Discovery Td5 through 11 countries in 9 days over 2,800miles.    Click to see Our Landy Adventures

I didn't do any training at all on the trip except the off run up a hill either in front or behind the vehicle to get a good photo..... so when we arrived home 2 weeks before the Royal Parks I was kinda wondering how I would make it!

Well thank the Universe for cellular memory, because it kicked in on the start line of the half marathon!

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A song for Haiti : Blogs : Concern Worldwide : Concern, Concern Worldwide, Concern Ireland, Donate to Charity, Concern.net

A song for Haiti : Blogs : Concern Worldwide : Concern, Concern Worldwide, Concern Ireland, Donate to Charity, Concern.net

A tummy rumble and out pours 1300 words

I guess I'm not unique in having a strong desire to be creative, the world is full of wonderfully creative people. What I do wonder though and often, is how that desire manifests itself in each individual. For me its a bit like being hungry, my tummy rumbles and I have an overwhelming desire to eat and so it is for my creativity; it's a kind of tummy rumble but more intense and it radiates through me like an electric current. Does that wound weird? Yes of course it does... but that IS exactly what it feels like for me. 


Last time I felt that way I wrote the first 1300 words of my autobiography. It sort of poured out in a veritable cacophony of words and emotions and was for a brief period very cathartic. 


There have been other times when I have been creative with words and no more creative was I then when I had a bout of depression. Again the words would tumble out seemingly randomly but when others read them they seemed to speak volumes of my angst and state of mind. They never have quite the same impact when I read them back to myself on occasions. 


I have had an eventful and interesting life and so feel that at the very least I should capture it in words which either for my family or others might be an interesting read. The sub text will be about a sense of belonging, a fundamental need of humankind, which for some including me has a complex set of factors which influence how one views their place in the world. 


So the next time I feel the overwhelming desire to be creative I need to be ready to capitalise on the opportunity that presents itself so that my 1300 words   belong to something bigger.

Trolly dash and carrot cake

Saturday seems to be the obligatory food shopping day (apart from last week when it was Friday!) when I trundle with my trolly up and down supermarket aisles trying to plan menus for the following week. By nature I am not a creature of habit and will alternate my allegiance between Mr Sainsbury, Mr Tesco and Herr Lidil as I get terribly bored with the same old routine. I tried to start my shop at the far end of the supermarket a few times and finish up near the store entrance but it was like driving up a one way street the wrong way (something I did recently in Taunton where they were changing road priorities) and seemed to affect my power of thought. 
So today it was jolly Tesco that sucked the money out of my purse. My partner came with me (somethings I don't normally allow) as he wanted to look at their digital cameras. I left him to his own devices at the entrance and started my trolly dash around the store.  
A loud piercing high pitched alarm going off in the aisle behind the washing up bowls and mops soon alerted me that my partner was nearby as he was trying to inspect the cameras on display. 
In the end there were few choices of camera and those they did have all seemed to be pink. My partner would rather nail his balls to the fish counter than  be seen with a pink camera so he took over control of the trolly steering until we were ready to checkout. Of course the queue he picked wasn't the same as the one I picked which of course was far slower and the one we were in, however before we fell out over which items should go where on the conveyor belt I sent him outside for a cigarette. 
I have no idea what they put in Golden Virginia tobacco these days but whilst I was packing my shopping, into one of several double Tesco clubcard points jute bags, I heard my name and turned around to see my partner doing a "Harry Worth" at the front of the shop window. "It's ok",  I said to the very sweet guy at the checkout, "It's just a strange man who happens to be with me". 




Whenever I get back home laden with shopping bags I usually have a crowd around me expectantly waiting to see what goodies I have brought back; and today was no different as our 2 cats and the dog watched every item go from bag to cupboard or fridge until at last a treat came each of their way. 


Saturday isn't just about shopping its also my baking day (if I can be bothered that is). Today I made my fabulous carrot cake with marscapone cheese topping.


Its so easy and idiot proof I though you might like to have the recipe so here it is:


Jo's awesome idiot proof carrot cake


4 oz brown sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp bicarb
6 oz grated carrots
4 oz sultanas (golden raisins for the yanks)
50 mls vegetable oil
4 oz Self Raising Flour (or if you dont have any use plain flour and add 2tsp baking powder)


Method


Turn oven to 180 degrees
Grease and line a loaf tin or cake tin


Bung everything except the sultanas and carrots into a mixing bowl and beat the shit out of it.


Then fold in the carrots and sultanas.


Scrape out of the bowl into the prepared tin and bake until a cocktail stick or knife comes out clean if you poke it into the cake or until if you hold it up to your ear it doesn't hiss. This is usually about 45 mins ish. 


To make the topping


Half a tub of marscapone cheese
about and 1oz of butter
icing sugar to taste


Mix it all up and dollop on the top of the cake once its cooled and turned out of the tin.


Delicious with a nice cup of tea!


Enjoy

Is it Polly Bergen??? No Its PottiJo!

Well today I had my hair cut! Not just a little trim but an all out restyle! From the "manky long curtains" look to the "volumised shag" look in a few snips. My hairdresser had suggested I bring in a pic of the kind of style I'd like and the term "volumised shag" was on some hairdressing site.

My hairdresser hadn't heard of it but as we live in backward Dorset I'm not surprised! It's probably a London expression. I made them laugh by using the term quite loudly in a salon full of blue rinse ladies. Have you ever noticed that senior ladies who go for the blue rinse, perm, shampoo and set all seem the same height and wear the same clothes. They do.... really! You should check them out next time you're in the salon.

Its like Welsh male voice choir members also being clones of each other - each with no neck and slightly balding!

I posted this pic of me on my facebook and my best friend (who is a yank) says I look like a cross between Polly Bergen and Audrey Hepburn! Thats awesome thinks me to myself hoping on hope that she means when they were younger!

We smoke our own

The Old Inn,

Kilmington

Its fab when you have to make a work meeting with someone mid way between where they work and where you work. Today I met a colleague here at The Old Inn, Kilmington which is near Axminster in Devon. We arrived a smidgeon before 11am and waited for them to open. I don't think they expected to see 2 women loitering under their eaves expectantly waiting to burst through the door once it was unlocked. My colleague was desperate for the loo and hopping from one foot to the other like she was practising old 80's dance moves.

Once they unlocked the door, we settled ourselves down in front of a glorious open roaring fire and set up office.

The bar staff were fantastic and brought us coffee as I proceeded to inform them that I had searched them out on the Internet after my colleague's husband had worked out where the halfway point was for each of us.

The Old Inn is a traditional Devon thatched pub and at about lunch time some traditional Devon type older people came in for their lunch. Inspired by the wafting aroma of home cooked Devon fayre we made our order and waited by the fireside. The food arrived and was well presented and the chips that we had decadently ordered to share as an accompaniment were delicious. We had both decided on smoked salmon salad (offsetting the chips) and were informed that, "we smoke our own". This led to some minor hilarity as we imagined the chef with a fag in his mouth blowing smoke over the salmon. I should point out however that this is NOT the preferred method of smoking salmon especially at the Old Inn as they do actually have their own smoking room. Not the sort where traditional Devon type older gentlemen in their silky Hugh Hefner dressing gowns go after dinner, but a proper smoke room where they smoke their fish.

We spent just over three hours meeting and not once did we feel that we had outstayed our welcome. I had my laptop on the table and bits of paper everywhere and I can honestly say that as meeting venues go, this is one of the best!

Of course you don't just have to go there for a meeting..... Its a bloody good pub for pubs sake!

Who says my penis needs enlarging?

FAO Random Internet Healthcare Organisation

To whom it may concern,

One of your staff somewhere must have nothing better to do than wonder if I have a penis that needs enlarging, or if I need Viagra for penis dysfunction.

I started to worry momentarily that I have deluded myself all these years and that maybe by some sort of freak of nature my female bits have evolved into a penis without me or my partner noticing. You hear of this kind of random genetic mutation on occasions and so although it can happen, I feel it's rather unlikely to happen to me! However just to be sure I made sure I had a good feel of myself in the shower this morning! After steaming up the bathroom and nearly losing my footing, I can honestly say I am still all woman and so would respectfully ask the sellers of these products to Piss Off! I will of course ensure that I carry out a very thorough inspection of my personal anatomy every day in the shower and let you know if I notice any changes that might suggest I need your products.

Kind Regards

No work today, I am on holiday

Whilst Radio 4 burbles on in the background I am here trying to think about how best to maximise the time I have today. I have already been out for a jog with the pooch and had a very filling breakkie, ensured my 'out of office' notice is up on my work email and am now having a luxury moment of doing bugger all for a short while. Thing is it's easy to get settled in front of my mac book and doddle about the internet deciding where I'll go on holiday, or which house I'll buy when I win the lottery or Twitter to my little hearts content.... however none of these things are very productive. The half an inch of dust remains and I am of the mindset that I might actually get up and doodle in it then if the doodles are particularly rubbish I have the excuse of dusting them off.. hence cleaning by default! That might be the way forward and then once in the mood (because I am very likely to end up dusting) I'll even attack the bathroom and I might go all out and vacuum!
That'll take me to lunch time already! My goodness, how the day simply flies off before me!
My mother would be appalled.... she would have gone to play tennis!

Half an inch of dust

As this is a blog that has random brain dumps and mutterings it seemed appropriate that it's name was chosen in an equally random way.

Half an inch of dust refers to the state of my living room which, it has to be said is very small, and has not seen a duster for some time!

My mother used to say that dusting was a completely useless way to pass the time of day as no sooner had one dusted every scrap of visible dusty surface then the bloody stuff miraculously appeared again. I must say on the continuum of agree and not agree I am definitely swinging toward a preference for agree.

So there we have it, the random thing that has influenced the name of this blog and indeed the content of my first post!