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All I want for Christmas is…….

I received a cheque today for £500- signed over to the British Lung Foundation.  It was a great reminder of all of the work and effort I had made over the summer to raise cash for the BLF and a sad nudge that I hadn’t really thought about any of that stuff for some months now. 

Not that it’s all gone away of course. There hasn’t been a miracle. My walk over the 3 National Peaks and other fund raising events hasn’t changed the inevitable. It took my mind off it for a while but I didn’t come home to find my dad racing up the stairs- tube free- shouting ‘well done love- I think that did the bloody trick’!

My dad is still dying of a terminal lung disease.  The details aren’t necessary- but right now- things are shit and are set to get a whole lot shitter! We are all harnessed in for what we know is going to be a tough, bumpy ride. With teeth gritted, bad jokes aplenty and that vacant stare we are all starting to sport whenever difficult conversations threaten to start up- we watch and wait.

But then we realised- it’s Christmas… HO HO HO. Surely – all we need to do is stick on a Christmas hat- throw up a tree and hey presto all those conversations about palliative nurses, hospital beds and class A drugs will all just disappear! Replaced with what stuffing we might have in the turkey, and how many crackers we need so the kids don’t start WW3 when there is one short.  It’s December we sing with glee- illness shouldn’t get in the way- god forbid! How can anyone feel sad when Cliff is crooning out about Mistletoe and Wine and the two Ronnie’s Xmas special is playing- again?!

Of course-what I really want to do is RING the neck of Cliff Richard, stuff Michael Buble with the turkey and intravenously feed myself with a Port/mulled wine or anything over 75% on the numbing scale!

I am feeling very sorry for myself.

But then I realised today that just like walking up a cliff face- feeling sorry for myself is not making anything go away.

Today was a reminder. A £500 reminder that for a while I didn’t sit and feel sorry for myself about the whole situation- I went out and tried to do something about it. I joined the thousands of people that get of their arses and make an effort to make things better- even though they know it’s not going to make anything better for their own situation. The parents who walked the 3 peaks for the baby care unit- they weren’t ever going to get their beautiful daughter back but they earned plenty of blisters and  cash for everyone else’s baby that might end up in that unit.  And all those others- who have lost what is most precious to them and yet rather than be swallowed up in self-pity they haul themselves up and they organise jumble sales, parachute jumps, walks, runs and all kinds of events.  These are the people that turn off the sad music- put the glass down and say f*** it… bring it on!

And thank goodness- because that’s what charities rely on. They rely on people saying-f*** it- Bring it on! Despite the fact they may have cradled their baby for its last breath, watched a loved one die in excruciating pain, spent years in pain themselves or just got sick of listening to folks complaining and not doing anything- they DO something.

Today I have realised I want to be one of these people.

So you know what Dad – we are going to have a great Christmas. And it’s going to be great for all the reasons Christmas should be great- because we have it together. You getting stressed over the wrapping paper- mum being a few pitches higher and louder than usual (which is already loud)- us kids being as ungrateful and arsey as ever and the grandkids causing havoc. Our Christmas together. And let’s face it, most probably our last.  

2013 may well be a very sad year but it will be a motivated and successful New Year for lots of reasons. And most importantly it will be a year that says … Fuck it… BRING IT ON!!!!!!!!!


But seen as it’s Christmas- and there might just be a chance that miracles happen- I am going to try…. So here goes…


Dear Father Christmas,


This year has been a bit shit to be honest and I   reckon it’s not going to get much better. Now there is no pressure or anything…   but I am wondering if you could help me out on a few things. Ditch the   presents over the side of the sleigh and instead do you reckon you could   grant me a few wishes? I am reckoning you will be up for more than a mince   pie if you can grant… see what you think.


I know you are not God so I won’t ask for what I   really want but…


I would like:


  1. For   my mum to go to sleep just one night and for her heart to not hit the floor and break when   she wakes up because she knows  what   each day might bring
  2. For   my dad to take a whole breath in and it just be a breath in- no pain
  3. For   just once my dad to close his eyes to sleep and not worry he might not open   them again
  4. To   hear my dad say Happy Birthday to me  for just one more year
  5. To   see my dad get totally annoyed at everything Christmas related for just one   more year
  6. To   see my dad hold all of his grandchildren – just one more year
  7. For   my dad to forget- for just one day
  8. To   be 6 again.. to have my dad hold me in his arms and tell me- everything is   going to be OK for just one more time


Good Luck with all of that.. J

 Happy Christmas dad….. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


A Good Set of Lungs!







Is what you need to run- or at least run without collapsing! How do I know this- because… you guessed it… I am another mental mission to complete a challenge. This time it’s the Great North Run. Walking mountains is yesterday’s pizza- it’s all about pounding the pavements now to complete a half marathon- without killing myself. If I am totally honest.. I may have just bitten off more than I can chew on this one- highlighted as I was easing myself into the bath unable to bend my legs after a simple 10k run! The cider helped though – getting out was much easier. I am guessing that it did not” look” easy though and not  glamorous at all I imagine. It was the the kind of ‘getting out of  the bath’  you see on those adverts with geriatrics selling those special baths with the walk in option- not the adult movie version I can tell you!

There is another reason I know this- because it seems that any woman running with a pair over a C cup- has to endure all kinds of shit whilst running.  Some of it amuses me- some of just pisses me off.  Despite strapping myself up with  NASA strength  fabric-  ‘the girls’ are a main star attraction of any run I do and if I want to run I am going to have to get used to that.

There are several types of onlookers- here are just a few:

The sneaker: The guy driving his car with his wife seated next to him- pretends to look in his side mirror. Classy!

The suicidal:  The guy driving his car with his wife seated next to him that just leans out and leers and gets a dead leg from his wife

The Dick: The guy who shouts some random statement out about speeding up- despite the fact that his own fat gut is wedged underneath his wheel

The Nob: The guy who shouts dirty stuff out… usually so clever and innovative that I have to stop myself chasing after him to try and grab some of what he is offering!!

The Bitch: the woman driving who would run you over if she could for what I can only imagine is because she feels bad for not being out.

The Winker: not sure what that is all about!

The Crasher: the guy that almost swerves of the road having a massive leer!

The Nodder: The guy on his mountain bike- who I think is just saying- hey welcome to the ‘ get a life’ club. ( Although if he  had seen me almost spew over the dry stone wall earlier through sheer exhaustion- might not have been so impressed)

I don’t have tickets on myself. I am pretty sure I could have the head of a moose- but as long as I had female bouncy bits- running is going to be a spectator sport.  That is why the kind of women you see running are generally the ones with no boobs. That is because every time women with anything more on top go out- they are put off by men who should generally know better.

So anyway- I’m back with my blogs- this time it’s all about running but it’s still ALL about The British Lung Foundation. I am back in therapy- the running/walking is about taking time out to try and fix what is broken in my head- to thrash out all the shit. The news that my dad is now going to be permanently plugged into oxygen was my reason for needing therapy today. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.

If you got bored last time of the blogs- these will be much of the same kind of shit- different subject- so I would ignore

For those that like to read my shit… welcome back 🙂

12 Miles.. that is what I am aiming to run.. me and the girls that is

wish me luck





3 Peaks and a Funeral

Well folks- we did it! We conquered the world! Well 3 peaks of it at least. It’s only now that I have the energy to be euphoric about it really. At the time- it was kind of- ok that’s great- now just let me to get bed before I pass away.. Yea not just pass out… I was that tired (and not a bit dramatic)!!!!

It’s only now- 3 days later- that I can look fondly back and say hooray I took on the 3 National Peaks Challenge and it didn’t kill me! Although it felt like it might just do that a few times, particularly as I was grabbing onto an ice rock at the top of the Scafel- wondering how the hell I was going to make it down alive! However a handful of apricots, a few tracker bars and the camaraderie of my team mates got me through relatively unscathed. Although I don’t think I will ever be able to wear heels again- as I seriously may have permanently lost the ability to walk remotely like a lady in anything other than trainers-so  it’s flat pumps all the way for me now- I don’t care how massive my calves look in them!

Before writing this blog I took a quick peek at all my previous blogs to get a flavour of the journey so far. My emotions in some have been very raw and my language as fruity as ever- although I have in the main used those tasteful *** for the really naughty words. I can’t quite believe I talked about my pants in one blog! However, the blogs nicely illustrate that I was mostly having a bloody good time! The fundraising, the blogging and even the training had all contributed to this amazing journey- culminating in a sweaty road trip around the UK- hauling my ass up 3 very large hills!

So here is how it all rolled…

8.00am- arrive at Huddersfield

In the pissing down rain! We all got soaked just putting our bags in the van! However spirits were really high and before we knew it- the tone of conversation in the bus was about as low as it could get! Steve and Matt began their comedy due act for the weekend- which resulted in lots of smutty humour. Kirsty managed to get her hands on Kate’s 50 Shades of Grey book- but it just wasn’t blue enough- much to her disappointment! Stefano managed to sleep through the whole journey pretty much and Kate never took a breath.  Matt managed to arrive without any spare pants- toothbrush- or his newly purchased walking sticks- but what he did have all fitted in a small vintage sports bag. Oh and he had a Llidle bag with tins of beer in! Anyway- we head up the motorway in the rain, wind and thunder and lightning… Thinking what the f*** are we doing!!

3.00- arrive at Fort William

In the sunshine! No-one back in Yorkshire believed us to be honest as it was still torrential rain back down there.  We mosied around for a bit- emptied our bladders- and then got all dressed up for the first ascent. I thought I looked pretty cool in my walking shorts and t-shirts- looking back at the pictures- I looked more like Jimmy Cranky! Mike for some reasons had decided to put on the most girly pair of shorts that he had- acquiring the name The Budgie Smuggler for the rest of the walk- not helped by the fact he had his socks pulled as far up as he could. The kids would have disowned him. Matt actually looked like a hobo that we were trying to locate a hostel for and Steve could have provided Fort William with enough luminous glow for an Olympics opening ceremony. Kate and Kirsty actually looked quite cool- as they did for most of the journey. Well Kirsty looked cool anytime she wasn’t walking uphill- otherwise she looked like a swan match! Stefano looked Italian- make of that what you will 😉

5.00- arrive at Ben Nevis And it looks sh** scary! You can’t even see the top of it!  However, much to my relief, I can see some kid running down the end with his Thomas wellies on… Can’t be that hard then! I got about half way up before realising that- that boy and his Thomas wellies were actually a mirage. The walk was hot, steep and endless. And the idea of looking like Jimmy Cranky was becoming appealing considering that I was already starting to look like her butch brother! My lovely French side plaits were stuck to my head and basically I stank. At this point I realised that any photographs from that point forward were not going to be ones I put in a frame… achievement or no achievement! And any moves towards a group hug were going to be the kind where my arms stayed firmly to my side. The top was amazing… with amazing views.  No time to take it in however- quick photo and then down we go. And if I thought the walk up was hard- how long was the walk down?!  Kirsty provided excellent entertainment however and actually made me wet my pants with laughing (I unlike Matt had spare ones at least). She also managed to shout f*** off at some random strangers because she thought that they were the others in our team taking the pi** by waiting at the bottom for us cos we were last!!  That made me really laugh! One bloke decided to stand behind us both (brave move considering it was upwind) for ages because we were apparently great entertainment. He probably actually thought were drunk and was waiting for an opportunity to drag one of our passed out drunken bodies into a bush! All sense of danger was out on this walk.. bare face rocks- 10,000ft drops and potential axe murderers were all just an obstacle to get round- or not!

Quote of the walk:

Hey everybody.. Steve is such a geek he has a name for a pile of rocks. A CAIRN

Everybody: Yes Matt

9.30- finish Nevis

10.00- arrive at Fort William- McDs

Seemed like a good idea at the time- so we all piled into McDs to fill ourselves up on a healthy mid-challenge snack! Kirsty and I had already changed into our bus pjs and had got to the stage where we really didn’t care anymore. Fort William McDs were having us in our pjs- like it or lump it! Kirsty looked like a total chav and I looked like someone who had been let out for the day but had wandered off by accident. I washed down my big mac with a tin of beer… now how classy is that!

3.00am- arrive at Scafell

Wanting to chuck up big style. MMM that burger and beer might not seem like such a good idea now! The mere mention of orange sports drink had me heaving- and Stefano’s salami- almost got shoved where the sun doesn’t shine! The mood starting Scafell was therefore quieter. It was also steeper and slippier. In fact- the walk was shit from start to finish. It was like walking on ice up a hill and then down again. It was so horrid I don’t even remember finishing it- it was just a blur. I remember being at the top and thinking it might actually be safer to take a leap of faith and just roll all the way down. I did have Steve’s beer hat to protect me after all. The team work was amazing. We all looked after each other but also learnt when not to interfere. We learnt quickly that the views were of no interest to Matt on the way up- they all looked the f**ing same apparently. Kirsty was also best left when climbing- she was grizzly bear on the way up and teddy bear the rest of the time. Steve and Kate kept f***ing running bits- just to really piss me off. If I could have caught them up- I would have given them a whipping I tell you and given each of them one of my poles to carry- no hands required! So I was a joy on the climb too. I am sure Mike appreciated the amount of times I shrilly cried his name to come and help me down a hill that he was already struggling down!

Quote of the walk: Hey you ever seen that film when Julie Walters climbs that hill- the one where she is nun?

Everybody: Yes Matt 7am- finish Scafell

Bus journey – very very very quiet! Steve who never sleeps- reckoned he was watching us all sleep- weirdo- and then taking minging photos. I wonder if he now has a room full of our pictures- a room he goes to sit in and rock or do other stuff- freak!

1.00pm arrive at Snowdon

Sun still shining- not that we care anymore! Matt has made it very clear the views are now boring and he never wants to walk a hill again. He has of course no choice right now however- so he carries on- blisters and all! Kirsty’s knee is strapped up tight and we are all hobbling just a little. The feeling on the top was about as euphoric as it could have been with no sleep and after clocking up 2 other mountains- it was also brief. Hooray we are on our way down- with the sound of Kirsty’s profanities keeping us company.

Quote of the walk: No Julie Andrews was that one that played that drunken woman who looked after all the kids.

Everybody: Mary Poppins?

Matt: Yes that’s it

Everybody: Yes Matt!

5.00pm FINISH

The funeral part was obviously a play on words.. Although we did have to pronounce Matt’s trousers dead at the end of the walk- as the stank was something else. I think they may have been emitting carbon monoxide. It was only fitting therefore that we kindly put them to rest in a bin bag and lost them at a motorway service station! If he asks- they have gone to trouser heaven though remember! The after party and evening in Caernarfon is a blog in itself… Next instalment- Steve, Matt Stefano go Fawlty Towers

Big girls don’t cry

I actually managed to hold it together when the walking shop told me they had run out of Kendal mint cake- near miss though!
And even managed to swallow the massive lump in my throat when everyone left work wishing me well for the walk.
It was Smokey that did it. I seriously – seriously -got smoke in my eyes!

The training was done. I had bought what I needed. I was packed and ready. I had nothing else to think about And for the first time in a long time- I remembered why I was doing the walk in the first place.
I am going to lose my dad through some horrid illness. I am going to have to watch him suffer. I am going to have hold my mums hand as she says goodbye to the man she has loved for most of her life. And I realised that no amount of walking- running or baking f***ing cakes is going to make that less shit.

So the night before the walk I am unravelling. I need to get a grip. I don’t cry very often anymore- I am a big girl now but tonight I am breaking all the rules!

tonight – I’m not funny or able to make hilarious jokes about the situation. Tonight I am a little broken and rather sore. The walk can bring as much as it likes- I can’t imagine anything hurting any more than this does right now.

As I’m getting ready to walk 9000 ft my dad is struggling to get up the 2 flights of stairs in my house. As I’m packing boiled eggs and Kendel Mint Cake – he is packing his oxygen and million tablets. Him and my mum are looking after the girls whilst we walk- a precious commodity!

And he looks ok tonight- So  I will pour him a glass of wine and enjoy the time I have with him… and pull my bloody self together!

So for all those who have supported me- thanks- You have saved me from so many more potential broken moments. And for those at Health Unlocked- I want to say how brave you all are. And all those who have sponsored me- thanks. And for my family for turning up in turtle outfits at the 80s gig- you’re great!

And dad- I just want to say I love you and am doing this walk because it’s the only thing I can do right now to make it feel slightly ok! Xx
Over and out- see you on top of peak number 1

2 Ninja Turtles, John McEnroe and a bloke with a dodgy wig and tash!

On June the 29th 2012 – this is how we rolled.

The 80s bash had finally arrived and as you can see from the picture above we were all ready for some full on Rick Astley, Madonna and Kylie tunes!

All the ticket sales proceeds were  going to the British Lung Foundation. Organising social events is hard enough but charity events are something else- basically to raise any cash- you have to be about as cheeky as it gets- something I have now become expert at it seems! The Student Union had given us their room and staff for free,  the amazing Jo from the office- gave her DJing for free, Steve brought his karaoke machine and 8000 tunes for free and Liz, Kirsty and Matt had all given up their time to help me fill balloons with helium, put red lolly pops in jars, scatter red hearts on tables and generally run around like blue ar** flies getting everything ready- all for NO CHARGE!

I could not have done this event without the people mentioned above.. nor would it have been half as fun!

The evening started well- with a bottle of white wine, a bottle of helium  and microphones on stands- a whole 4 of them! Life could not have been more exciting!  Steve was so excited that he couldn’t concentrate enough to put his own nail varnish on- although he had managed to do a super job of his eye liner and lipstick earlier.

I had been up to the local hairdressers and had my hair all 80d up.  I had to walk through Huddersfield town at rush hour with totally normal work clothes, no makeup and hair that literally didn’t move in the wind- and would have been very fitting if I had ran back to work singing ‘ The Sun’ll come out tomorrow’! Deffo more Annie than Madonna for sure! Although by 11.00pm- I had my amazing beer goggles on and thought I looked super cool!

Kirsty was also taking it very seriously. There was a lot of back combing in the ladies toilets to get that hair sorted.

It was all about the 80s and the R&E team had certainly got that one ticked off

Everyone had made a huge effort. Even my 63 year old mum and her friend had totally gone 80s mad.

Kirsty’s best moment had to be the gliding belly slide across the dance floor to flash dance though. Almost the funnies moment of the night- and would have won me 250 quids on you’ve been framed for sure!  Very funny!

The funnies however had to be my brother and niece who were both wearing ninja turtles outfits- having a dance off on the dance floor. This involved belly rolls- snaking on the dance floor and full on knee slides!

The Karaoke was equally as entertaining. I had to be dragged off the mike.. mainly because my language was terrible!! not cool in front of your mum!!

Phillip’s ‘manly tash’ caused us much merriment- and by the end of the night- we were wearing them as eyebrows- sideys and all kinds of things!!

We raised over £200 pounds on the night  which was a great amount for a great cause. I also learnt that I had great friends and totally barmy family.

Here are some more pictures to give you a flavour

A great night!

And all for my dad- who couldn’t make this event because by 8.00pm he is asleep in his chair and could never have coped with the noise and shannagins. We missed you there dad xxx

The Final Countdown

With 10 days to go we decided we should actually meet and talk about the walk officially. We talk about it constantly in the office but never actually do we talk details. So we decided  a lunch in the Student Union would sort us out.

So this is just a very simple blog about what we need to walk and the walk itself.

Note to all- THIS MEETING WAS NOT ACCOMPANIED BY BEER…… wtf was that all about!! In fact this meeting was so serious- I had a pen and paper.. check me out!

So here is a list of what we think we  need- not inclusive- we are taking clothes and shoes as a given!

  • walking sticks because the crappy British weather means everything is more slippy than usual. Steve who to be honest is now taking his health and safety far too seriously has told us we all need sticks. I am slightly concerned he will turn up with a risk assessment form on the day! only joking Steve- my life is in your hands and someone has take that seriously… I wonder if the uni have priced up the insurance on this one!
  • fresh wipes– because we will stink and we will care! ( I’m thinking not)!
  • Headlamp– just in case we end up in the dark- or if me and Kirsty want to play Carry on Dr..
  • Phone charger- because I will survive the wind and rain- I won’t survive it without my phone!
  • Bin liners– I have no idea why that was on the list…??
  • Beer- now we are talking.. app it is for medicinal purposes only to help us sleep between peaks.. only one mind!
  • Travel sickness tablets– because getting to those peaks in a mini bus is going to be yuk!
  • Painkillers– nuff said!
  • Blister plasters – as above
  • A onsey- for the bus. Me and Kirsty have decided that we don’t care and going full on PJs in the busImage

The usual food, chocolate, water and stuff- all stuff that is completely obvious- and that we will forget!!  3 national peaks with no water or food but I WILL have my head torch and wet wipes!!

Kirsty who still has a cough has asked that no-one ask her if she is OK if she starts coughing or else she will batter them. nothing else to add to that really- only that- everyone should know that is not a joke and to take heed.. or else blisters will be the least of your problems

Also – no one is allowed to walk behind me or Kirsty up scramble. no one is looking up our asses basically. It won’t be pretty so move on and keep climbing.

Mike reckons we all need a buddy- a number that we can call if we need rescuing so the rest of us can carry on.  mmmmm Mike and Steve- Health and Safety boys or what!

Steve and Matt or S&M as we now know them did Scarfell for a practice on Sunday and Matt app legged it up the whole thing- after no training. No fair! He also had to wring out his underpants the weather was so bad- now Steve- why no photos of that eh- think of the fundraising opps from that- selfish Steve! Steve did show us all pictures of the tent they shared.. not much room in there S&M!

Anyway here is the walk:

Friday 6th of July

University for 7.30 am

6 Hours Drive up to Ben Nevis... eat a huge bowl of pasta..NO BEER.. NO BEER!

15.00pm – official start

20.00- finish Ben Nevis

6 hours drive to Scarfell 

2.00am- start walking Scarfell  ( whoppee with headlight)

6.00am- finish walking Scarfell

5 Hours drive to Wales

11.00 midday start walking Snowdon

3.00 – FINISH…. dead or alive!

this route takes the driving times at the max. It also assumes our driver is going to be ready and waiting with MCds ( no pressure Iain)! and it means we have to strip in van…. so I need to lose about 2 stone before Friday- great!

a quick shower in our luxury B&B and then hit the pubs- 🙂

Not too late to join us anyone??

D x

Short and Sweet?

It doesn’t matter how hard I pretend- I am short.  Jazzing it up does not help either… I am not’ petite’.. I am not ‘a bit smaller than average’…. I am a short ar**.

I blame my parents of course.  A diet of Findus Crispy Pancakes and tinned fruit with carnation milk is not not a diet that promotes growth in a child. Had I been born to parents who could afford to feed me on such luxuries as smoked salmon and crudities- I might have been a giant!  A packets of crisps outside the Woolpack  did not count as one of my five a day- DAD!!

It wasn’t just negligence on their part. They can also be blamed genetically. Neither of them measure up more than 5″3 so it is hardly surprising that I grew to 5″1 and stayed there!  They could have thought more carefully when choosing a partner- and tried at least to beat the odds.  How selfish were they succumbing to love!

Everyone’s a damn comedian when it comes to my height. All kinds of funny! My husband once  suggested that we go as the Krankies to a fancy dress party!And when Mini Me was introduced on Austin Powers.. the jokes just rolled!  Oh how we all laughed!! sorry I meant how they all laughed!

And it is also always OK to mention my height. If I had a massive nose or a huge wart on my face- people would take great pains NOT to make comment. But the instant I meet people- my height is  often one of the first things that is mentioned; ‘ ooh aren’t you small’ – ‘hey look- isn’t it funny- your 13 year old daughter is taller than you’! WELL NO- TO BE HONEST- IT IS NOT FUNNY!

All those cliched sayings are bloody annoying too. ‘Short and Sweet’?   no one said that about Napolean  or Hitler did they?! And ‘Great things come in small packages’  hardly describes Bin Laden!!

There are some cool short people though.

Here are a few:

General Tom Thumb ( yes he really was a real person)!!

Gary Cole.. whatchoo talking about Willis?!

Dolly Parton- one of my heroes

And my Fave Danny Devito

And not forgetting- Prince, Tom Cruise and the lovely Bruno Mars. All famous despite being short arses!

I don’t mind about my height anymore actually.. I had learned to live with it.  Until I started walking up very big hills.

Because for every step my 6″ husband makes- I have to make 2-3. And it’s not because I am not as fit as him- because I so am!!  It’s because his legs are about a foot longer.. at least! Off he goes strolling into the distance with me lagging behind…running a little bit every time he stops looking to make up for lost time and then pretending to look all cool when he looks around.

Running depresses me even more! I am running along- feeling very proud of myself- when some normal sized person strolls past me. I almost got overtaken by some old dear the other day laden down with about 6 shopping bags! It’s just not fair!

Being short basically means that in sporting activities I have to work harder than a tall person to achieve the same results ( other than limbo I guess)?

Thinking about it though- small people have always had a hard time. Old Willy Wonka did nothing in that chocolate factory did he.. the Oompah Lumpahs did everything. Same goes for the Munchkins in the Wizard of Oz. And look at the Seven Dwarves… working all day down a mine while Snow White pi**ed about singing with the birds and squirrels.. lazy sod! We, the short people, have been taken the p*** out of for ever!!!

I actually considered  if I should get extra time for the 3 peaks.  A bit like on the Para Olympics. I should get to set off at least a day ahead of everyone else! I also considered walking in platform shoes.. think of the calf muscles you would get doing that!

But that won’t happen of course.. I will just have to train harder.. take bigger steps.. and get on with it.  Because unless some miracle happens before the 6th of July- I will still be 5″1.

All I can say though is – BRING IT ON.. cos these legs might be short but my attitude and determination is HUGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!