Long time no blog (have been prioritising actual paid work) but I’ve been meaning to say, if you want to know how all that walking went, I’ve done a report on our fundraising page:
(Don’t worry, I’ve cut and pasted it below for those too lazy to click through)
In brief, it was brilliant, I’d definitely do it again, and I am feeling really twitchy now that the endorphins have worn off and I have no excuse to take myself off for really long walks.
Lots of people have been incredibly supportive and generous with their cash – we exceeded our fundraising total by more than a grand, and counting!
Anyone who didn’t get a chance to sponsor us (and, let’s face it, few of us are exactly flush with cash right now), there’ll be another opportunity later in the year as I’m hoping to also do the London Open House Night Hike again, which involves almost as much walking (a mere 20 miles this time), the opportunity to look round amazing buildings at night, no pressure to power walk and, most importantly, T-shirts rather than bras.
Normal blogging service will be resumed shortly.
That Moonwalk blog for those to lazy to click through:
So, we made it!
What was it like? (I know we promised you bra pics – scroll through the pics on the left)
It was tougher than expected, not so much the distance as doing it at night. A v quick Google isn’t giving me the definitive answer on whether it genuinely is coldest and darkest the hour before dawn, but it definitely feels like it. And when that coincides with a trudge along from the Southbank Centre to Battersea Park, passing people coming in the opposite direction who have just 6 miles to go (to be fair, they started an hour earlier), fighting a pounding headache, wrapped in a silver space blanket for warmth and struggling to stay awake when it’s way way past your bedtime then it’s a bit grim.
But then you pull out of Battersea Park – the official half way marker – and on to Albert Bridge (where a sign instructs troops to break step when marching over bridge) and see the sky lightening in the East, pause to acknowledge the brooding presence of Battersea Power Station in the gloom, and marvel at the glassy stillness of the Thames and decide, ‘Who cares how fast or slow we finish, we have to drink some of this in.’
The walk past houseboats and through Chelsea/Fulham should in theory have been the toughest, coinciding with that tricky 15-20 mile zone that marathon runners call The Wall (how anyone actually RUNS a marathon, I’ll never know – deep respect to them) but it coincided with the sun coming out for the first time in months and some excellent opportunities for noseying into posh houses and some window shopping down the Kings Road. It cruelly took us past the edge of Hyde Park, where we’d finish another 10 miles later, but we didn’t care. We walked faster!
The marshalls along the course were amazing, volunteering to spend their whole night, and some of the morning freezing and shouting the same words of encouragement over and over and over again as 17,000 women and men filed past. I think walking was probably easier.
The fittest of the Lunartits had powered ahead and crossed the line in an impressive 7 and a half hours (remembering that includes time in toilet queues, blister plastering and stopping to take pics) but, for us stragglers, turning into St James’ Park, then Hyde Park with the sun on our backs still felt good. Last minute burst blisters meant some finished in actual pain, but everyone had smiles on their faces.
All night we were getting encouraging tweets and texts, plus reports of more donations coming in – you lot have been so generous, it makes us a bit emotional. Thank you so much.
Sunday felt a bit like having been on a long-haul flight, without the nice eye masks and in-flight movie, or the exotic destination at the end of it. But after some big naps we are now all recovering nicely and slowly regaining the power of coherent speech. Forgive us if we still seem a bit dazed.
For me, I intend to keep on walking and I’d definitely do it again, though I couldn’t have picked a nicer group of girls to do it with.
And thank f*** it didn’t rain!