As you all know, on 12th May, I will be completing my first trek in over 10 years in aid of Lincoln Samaritans and Lincoln Drill Hall.
I started training with Lee Johnston at Elite Fit, Skegness. My first mission preparation session was on 22nd January, and I genuinely thought I might not have made it out alive. I felt so unfit and didn’t know how on Earth I was going to manage to successfully stand up the next day, let alone walk 1.2 miles.
But, by the second week of training, I had walked along Skegness pier which is roughly half a mile in just over an hour. I even clambered up hills and rolled backwards down one, but you know what they say you can’t win them all. It takes ‘two steps forwards one step back’ to a whole new meaning. I acquired three blisters and a parking ticket that day. No pain no gain. Right?
I arrived for session three, having battled the very typically English weather, and Lee asked me if I had ever been on a treadmill. Before I had a chance to say; “No, but we can try.” I was walking at a steady pace on what appeared to be a treadmill. I’ve never experienced anything like it; walking a long distance is one thing but walking consistently for a set amount of time is different, especially when none of your four limbs are ever firing on all cylinders. After doing five cycles of five-minute stints, I had sweat pouring out of places I never knew existed, and all my limbs had disowned me. However, somewhere in between total exhaustion and sheer amazement, I set myself a new goal of walking 1.5 miles in an hour and a half.
That brings us up to Thursday’s training session – minus all the crazy excursions that haven’t been under Lee’s watchful eye. The thing about cerebral palsy is that although it's an unchanging disability, it also come accompanied with bursts of fatigue which emphasises when someone isn’t feeling 100%... So, on the treadmill I got, yet to my surprise, a minute later my legs decided to slip out from underneath me. It was quite clear that my wonky body was not in the mood to cooperate, but I carried on anyway in the hope that I wouldn’t be taken home in a matchbox. As I stood there, silently screaming at my legs to get a grip, ‘God Is A Woman’ came blaring out of the radio, and that’s all they needed to know.
Which leads me to my final request for now. Please follow the instructions on this page and donate how ever you see fit. These charities are extraordinary, and they could really do with your help.
P.S. Details of the ball with will be held on Saturday 9th November will follow in due course.