Race, jog, walk… but do it for Life

Each summer since 2005 (and once before that) I’ve sent around begging emails, asking for sponsorship for running or walking Cancer Research’s Race for Life. We all get a lot of sponsorship requests and it’s easy to succumb to charity fatigue, so I’m sorry to add to it further – this post is an unashamed reminder that you can still sponsor me for this year’s effort, and to say thanks to those that already did. You can still donate here until the 14th August 2010, and if you miss this year, keep an eye out for next year as I *will* be doing it again..

2010 was my 5th Race for Life.

Clive and David in 2004

My plan is to walk or run the Race for Life every year to remember Clive, our best man, who died in October 2005. He was 34 years old, and is survived by Marianne, and their son David, who was 2 when he lost his dad. Now that I have a daughter myself there is an added poignancy to this story. It’s hard to lose one of your best friends, but knowing the relationship me & Jules already have with Eleanor, who is now 2, I cannot bear to think of the impact it would have on her to lose either of us at this stage. I’m also deeply sad that she never got to meet her dad’s best friend, or he to meet her.

Since Clive’s death my lovely friend Kay has been diagnosed with breast cancer, and after years of chemo and pain has now thankfully been given the all clear.

This is by no means unusual – I am forever hearing stories about other people’s loved ones who are suffering or losing their battle. Individual battles rage on, and the war is far from over.

So far I’ve run around Blackheath twice, and walked Blackheath, Regent’s Park and Cassiobury Park, Watford. (I missed 2008 as I’d just given birth, but I don’t think I’m doing too badly so far..)

Including 2010 so far I’ve raised £2,594 in donations (including Gift Aid), plus my entry fees, and if this post raises just another £20 it’ll still be worth it.

Roll of honour:
2006 http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/melanieclark
2007 http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/melanieclark2007
2009 http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/melaniemack
2010 http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/melaniemack2010

Thank you for reading, and caring.

M
x

Tuesday is the new Friday

I write whilst waiting for my bottle of dww (dry white wine for the uninitiated) and large bottle of sparkling water to arrive at the table, and pondering on the events that led to Tuesdays being my favourite night of the week.

5 years ago I was in my 12th year of living and working in London, and had realised that working in the online media industry, with it’s attendant parties and indulgences was not doing my health any good. Add to this the long drawn out and painful death of our best man, Clive, from bowel cancer (a family tendency, it now seems, but exacerbated by a diet consisting almost exclusively of steak and lager) and it was obvious that I too was on a one way route to health destruction.

Given that I have the self control of a very persuadable gnat, I knew that I’d never stop drinking or eating as much without some kind of excuse, so through a series of tenuous and not very financially astute reasons, I came to the answer- a Vespa ET4, 125cc.

With visions of slim Italian girls in Capri pants, touches of Motown cool and the promise of free parking and no congestion charge, the deal was done.
Interest free credit – check
35 mins to work (compared to an hour on the train) – check
£70/month payments (less than travelcard) – check

Apart from all the above reasons, I also had a cunning plan- if I was driving the scooter, I couldn’t drink! Therefore, I would stop going out, “for one drink” and rolling in singing show tunes at midnight after a £50 cab ride home. Saving money, my health and probably my marriage at the same time.

Bonus.

It worked for a while (subject to a few “sod the scooter I’ll pick it up tomorrow”s ), only became a real handicap when I got pregnant (now there’s an excuse if you’re looking for one) and suddenly realised that the bravado of “they’re all arseholes” could easily mean that my unborn child died and a whole world of fear was unleashed.

Fear of death for someone else’s sake is a great leveller for health and safety.

Fast forward two years and being a mum of a toddler continues to be the best way to stop yourself drinking too much. Quite apart from the fact that facing a loud and energetic 2 year old with a hangover is a huge disincentive, there’s also the logistics of going out in town, when there’s a nursery pick up to do and/or babysitting to organise.

Happily a compromise is possible because both Jules and I are working 4 days a week, and on his day with Eleanor (Tuesdays) I take full advantage of not having to do nursery pick up by quaffing far too much wine with the lovely Anya, and occasional others. Once a week is perfect – I feel like I’m still having an active social life, can stumble around my old Soho/Covent Garden haunts but still have the rest of the week to (apparently) be healthy.

You can guarantee that Wednesday mornings are always my worst time of the week though. Serves me right.