Nope, not a golfer: Juneathon Day 7

Following the silent guide of my satnav down narrowing lanes and around frequent bends I realised the golf hotel that was to be my cheap refuge for one night only was anything but accessible. I already knew food might be a challenged but it appeared they would offer something basic as long as I wasn't late, so I adjourned almost immediately to the restaurant for vege lasagne then slowly made my way back to my room. I needed to run but also knew doing so after food was less than ideal. So I took my time, made and a slow change of clothes, and a few pages of my trashy novel later started walking. The staff cheerfully claimed there were no maps of the site, but invited me to run on the golf course itself.

So I did - and very strange it was too.

Let me advise that familiarising yourself with your first ever golf course when you are a bit full from your last repast, it is a rapidly darkening twilight, and the rain is being hazy, is probably not ideal! But despite being desperate to stop after only 2 minutes I actually managed about 20, so that was progress. I'm sure embarrassing redfaced heavy breathing while dripping sweat is a a successful way to leave an impression on your fellow guests too; let's just not delve too deeply into what kind of impression I will have left, if that's ok with you all?

I will get out and run, after i've just ...: Juneathon Day 6

Sadly this blog is delayed by the joys of tech distress - staying away for work at a cheap hotel on Dartmoor is fine - but with neither WiFi except in the hotel reception (and even that switched off at 10.30) nor any mobile reception at all ... blogging is not easy!

Juneathon day 6 had always been a challenge to fit in any way, with a day at work and an evening at a governors' meeting, with a quick dash into the supermarket thrown in.

By the time I got home I was tired and it was late. But I gritted my teeth, changed my shoes, and out I went. Walking the ups and running the downs, for just over a mile, is never going to make me truly fit or turn me into a skinny-malinkey (although if you know me you'll know that'll never happen anyway!). Nonetheless I comfort myself anything is still better than nowt!

Avoiding the rain: Juneathon Day 5

Today was a day when I waited. As the rain came down I did a bit of washing up. And went shopping. And had a couple of people over for not a bbq (as it was raining) but a bit of tennis on the tv and some coffee and fruit. We managed a walk, without getting wet amazingly, and then before our guests left it started to rain again.

So then the waiting began again. More tennis on the tv. A bit of internet surfing. Dinner. Post-dinner digestion period. Writing up my blog from yesterday. Until eventually, with a deep sigh, getting changed, procrastinating just a few minutes more, and finally heading out.

But really I most own up, I have today been lucky. Yes it was damp but all my waiting had paid off, and my 1.8 miles (yes, I am finding this Juneathon hard work due to my evidently impressive levels of unfitness!) were not so very soaked after all. Hooray! And at least the air was clearer and my usual red face and sweat-soaked jogging aftermath were not exacerbated by heat as well!

It's all a game of cat and mouse sometimes, but today I think I did ok. Yes, I was not keen, but I did avoid the worst of the rain, and the call of duty did its thing so I went despite my sighs. And so am I able to say with triumph, Day 5 is jogged, and logged, and now finally blogged as well. Phew, dear bed, here I come!

Yes, one of those days when it's a love/hate thing: Juneathon Day 4

Today was one of those days I'm afraid. Maybe it was a reaction to the overenthusiasm displayed yesterday but today I did not want to Juneathon. In fact, to be honest, I didn't want to do anything! After an afternoon spent with a friend and her smallfry, where the most exercise I did was pushing a small girl on a swing after walking to the park at toddler-pace, I arrived home glumly aware that that my day was as yet not complete.

However, after only a few minutes of dalliance I changed and was out. Hmmm. 2 minutes of walking to "warm up" and then 1.3 miles of wanting to stop. Not the greatest enjoyable experience I've ever had it has to be said. But I did it and I made it home again, and I've logged it and now I'm almost there with the blogged as well.

Sometimes, this Juneathon really proves its worth I suppose. there's no way I'd have inveigled myself off the sofa and out jogging without that sense of doom hanging over my head. But with no good excuse other than laziness and general lack of drive, despite it all, I went. And I pushed my legs to keep moving, one (slow) step after another. And thus I made it and home again.

Hooray for Juneathon, and the love/hate thing of being forced out there!

Can I accrue days in lieu?: Juneathon Day 3

Day 3 left me tired and slightly dazed ... but also managed to include 5 miles of cycling, 1 1/2 miles jogging, and more than 20000 steps (however slowly they were accumulated!).

I am still, nearly at my 24 hour deadline later wondering quite how I managed this. But it seems I did. The cycle was supposed to replace the jogging, but as that was very slow and ponderous (much like the wandering round and round town earlier in the day) I felt a bit guilty and went jogging as well. My sister did roll her eyes to the skies when I went jogging as well, and she had a good point ... but I am hoping that at least I know have if necessary an activity in hand in case I am particularly hard-pressed for time, wakefulness or just plain enthusiasm on another occasion!

Anyway, apart from some stiffness this morning I seem to have survived. So roll on the joys of trying to convince my body that exercise is at least not the most evil concept ever!

Uh-oh ... only two days in: Juneathon Day 2

Yep, as I suspected. Sigh. Already getting this blog written is seeming to be the most challenging element of this whole Juneathon malarkey.

Not, I'll be honest, that getting up at just after 6 this morning was all that appealing either. And after a somewhat unpleasant attack of cramp in my foot (yes, foot!) last night, the half-asleep creeping around the house at what felt like dawn (but wasnt) became even more cautious than usual.

But I upper out of bed, dressed, and let myself out. And the cramp stayed away (anyone know any charms one can hang over the door to keep the cramp away long-term? Please share all recipes!). And I didn't die through other means either.

But finding the space and creativity to write about it. Now you're really talking challenge! But finally .. that too is done, and so am I jogged, logged and blogged, with Day 2 properly signed off!

The madness starts again - it's Juneathon Day 1

So here we go again. For some reason that escapes me I have again signed up for a month of pain, distress, bewilderment and - if I'm very lucky - maybe even occasional flushes of success!

Yep, I've started Juneathon - Janathon's older sibling. Having done the joys of daily exercise through the cold and dark delights of January surely surely I can manage similar endeavours in the (at least theoretical) sunnier brighter glories of June?

The aim this time (led astray by Lisa Y) is to run, cycle or swim every day. I guess this should be easier than aiming to run every day - though it seems even more scary just at this point! Humph. Oh well ... here we go. Wish me luck!

Starting as I really really do mean to go on anyway (!): Day 1 is down with an early up and out walk-jog before my trip to London for the day. Of course I'm now suffering both you-did-WHAT-to-yourself shock and languid lying-on-the-sofa-is-rather-an-effort tiredness as a consequence but hey - day 1 is down ... so that's only 29 days to go!

So the theory is important too ...

Staying away overnight having gone on a train to work is not the greatest for access to a guitar. So as a back-up I decided it was time for some substantiation of the practice with a little bit of theory. I discovered the internet is a great resource for aspiring guitarists (even if I would find it hard to summarise what exactly I learned!)

Hmmm, sitting reading online as my guitar practise ... I wonder how many days off I can find good excuses for ...?

So today I have achieved not once but twice?

This "I will do x every day" concept is definitely interesting. It gives you a totally different perspective on your evening especially. As before with the running, I have now become adjusted to the continuous background loop in my head identifying when I will fit in a few minutes of strumming. I've also reached that stage where if I'm out in the evening I know that strumming has to be pretty well my first "job" when I get in.

However, despite this, the blogging still seems to be an issue. For some reason my brain flatly refuses to factor in time for the blog that comes afterwards; I think maybe this is a defensive position adopted to safeguard against any realisation of the lack of creativity that afflicts me as I try and find a new perspective on six chords, mild discomfort, back-ache, and the ongoing question of quite what long-term damage I'm doing to my hands and fingers.

Anyway, to return to today and the strumfest. Having rediscovered my guidebook I practised my (now nine) theoretically memorised chords yet again. I then wimped out of the necessary effort that is clearly required to learn to move between them  - ie endless practice (yes I know it's pretty important, I just didn't quite have the motivation today). Instead I flicked forward in my manual to the single-string chapter. While this is probably not the right way to learn, as I am teaching myself who is to say? And they so say one motivates by variety! Again, I know not what may be wise ... instead, by the end of my session I had - very slowly, very inaccurately, and distinctly unconvincingly - done a two-octave approximation of the G major scale. 

As the teacher I have the right to determine success and failure (that's how it works, right?). Therefore I am now declaring my considered view that despite all the unmusical interludes along the way, a two-octave G major scale is in fact an achievement! (It's ok, cheers, no disillusioning is required!).

In addition, now, my blog is up-to-date.

And so I declare: today I have achieved not once but twice. The Febethon strums on.

So at least the noise isn't amplified!

Chords. That was the theme for Febethon Day 7.

After the distinct lack of success yesterday with the attempt to play any kind of tune I decided that consolidation was the order of the day. (I also couldn't quite recall where my guitar book was, but we won't mention that little contributory factor.)

And so I played, for about 15 minutes, the 6 chords I could remember (basically C-A major chords). I also managed three minors after a bit of brain-dredging. Moving between them is still proving - well, challenging. But however slow my progress surely it must all be helping, this persistent strumming of one chord followed by a pause, some muttering, and then a different chord?

In the meantime though, while I improve my musicianship and skills (well if I don't claim great advances, I'm sure no-one else will credit me with them) I do wonder what my poor neighbour is making of this latest idiocy! Luckily at least I only have a bog standard cheap acoustic guitar - so she is not being subjected to amplified buzzy muffled chords, just quiet (but still probably not very tuneful and definitely rather buzzy) versions.

Remind me,.dear blog-reading insomniacs, that I need to check with her quite how grateful she is for such small acoustic mercies!

So six chords remembered ... only several hundred to go?

I remembered today all six of my chords! However that was probably the height of my success ... the broader picture re today being the growing realisation of quote how inflexible I am (anyone know how to do finger-yoga?):

• My finger tips hurt for want of the calluses developed by more experienced guitarists and/or more dedicated pupils. 
• My whole hand complains crampily of the requirement to curl appropriately. I think my posture needs work, and my shoulders seem to agree. 
• I tried again to sing along to my one song for which theoretically I now know the chords (Scarborough Fair), and now not only can I not move from one chord to the next, but it seems I can no longer hold a tune.

Sometimes the course of learning does not run smooth! I would love to have the ability to play the guitar and to accompany myself. And I shall indeed keep on going. But I wonder if - unlike the wonders of the Janathon with all the fellow Janathon-ers to keep me inspired, and my aim being simply to "get out and do it"- this Febethon with it's self-education requirement as well as the commitment demands might be a step too far. Yesterday as part of Save Our Libraries Day I went to seek out a book on how to teach yourself guitar - but clearly too many other local people in my area are also on a self-improvement kick as such literature was notable by its absence*.(I've already tried the internet and with a slow connection that seems more frustrating than helpful. But I am sure that somewhere there must be a book to help, surely? I state now that I will look again ...)

Despite these hurdles, though, I will not give up. I have now completed Day 6 of the Great Guitar Challenge and I have blogged too (although I am assuming those few who were reading this while it was the Janathon blog have given up now anyway!). One more day of both, regardless of audiences though, and I will have done a whole week - never say never!

*In the event I actually checked out a book about understanding the Qu'ran - it seemed appropriate on the day Cameron spoke at length about "political Islam" and the EDL were marching; the only issue now is to read it rather than allow it to sit on the side until I need to return it!

So back to the basics then!

After yesterday's attempt at chords-for-singing-along-to I decided that really I needed to crawl before I could walk rather than attempting to run and almost falling over entirely. So today I decided it would be back to basics.

I therefore concentrated on the five chords I have been practising already and added in another. For some reason, however careful I am this additional one didn't today sound quite right. I am baffled as to why, but I shall persevere. Despite this, I feel that although (as already explained) I appear to have no natural talent I am slowly beginning to remember the very basic chords I have been learning.

So I feel progress is being made! Hooray!

After five days I can accurately claim - as long as I am very slow and careful - to be able to play all the major chords from C to A (though that last is the one that simply doesn't seem to "work" - any clues anyone?). For now that is enough I think! My homework for the next 24 hours is to see if I can remember all of them for tomorrow's session ...

So even on Day 4 this challenge is looking really difficult...

Day 4 of the February Guitar Challenge seemed to be all about determination. I had determined I would do my practice even though I got home late at night; I had determined I would try and motivate myself through working on an incredibly slow and unconvincing rendition of Scarborough Fair; and I had determined I would remember at least two chords. Musicality and/or any sense of aural pleasure simply didn't come into it!

So how did I get on?

Well, the lessons I have learned so far are (1) that my suspicion that guitar-playing is another ambitious area of existence for which I have little or no talent was pretty accurate and (2) I need to hope very strongly that the the walls of my old terraced cottage are thick though to protect my poor next door neighbour from the very worst excesses of my noise-making.

I think those conclusions probably tell you as much as there is to know regarding the success of my guitar self-teaching to date!

So I thought it was running that supposed to hurt?

When I set out on this latest journey, I recognised that learning to play the guitar was going to be a challenge; indeed possibly a significant challenge. However I also thought that one of the benefits of a musical* as opposed to sporting** challenge would be that I would not need to suffer the joys/pains of aching body parts.

Humph.

It appears that the challenge of the guitar is not just about the production of a listenable sound. Nor, in fact, is it about my fingertips (of which more will be I am sure be written (if not read) in forthcoming days). No: it appears that sitting (no doubt with bad posture) and picking out chords (slowly) is also about testing the forebearance of the shoulders. I know I'm tired, but I really hadn't anticipated that a few minutes of guitar-handling (however poor) would leave with me shoulders that are (following advice and guidance received from the calves perhaps?***) already protesting.

Despite the discomfort, though, today's mammoth achievement was that I managed five chords. Ok, as yesterday each chord was carefully prepared finger by finger. And yes, I continue to wonder as to the wisdom of this latest venture. However, regardless of the slow progress I am making at least I can say with truth that on Day 3 of my own little Febethon I have played and now I have posted.

* Naturally, you will appreciate that I use the word musical in the broadest sense
** I acknowledge also that the word sporting has to be stretched to fit into this precise context
*** See Janathon blogs for further details of the calves' negotiation strategies

So ... this is going to be even tougher than the #Janathon?

I already knew I had no innate talent for the guitar. But after only the second day I am realising the depths of my talent-lacuna is greater than I had suspected.

I am not sure I made any progress on the great Febethon Day 2. I did "play" some additional chords. But only with a very intensive and considered effort put in to finding them one by one, and with much careful placing of each finger individually. If the whole idea of chords is that you play multiple strings at the same time, as a single tone, well I have managed to come close, I'll give you that. However the eventual result of my careful preparation didn't seem to sound terribly together and was rather fuzzy each time, albeit that it did happen. If however the idea of chords are that you can play them fast enough to create a tune ... woah, have I got a long way to go. I don't think I'll be playing any three-minute pop songs in the near future - three hour songs sounds optimistic for now!

Ah well. It was supposed to be a challenge, that was the idea I think ... do I never learn?

So ... time for a Febethon?

The common theme to several recent conversations has been "so what next"?

In response, I've smiled and laughed and spoken about the joy of being inside on a icy evening, and hiding from the rain, and collapsing when I get home rather than forcing myself into trainers and strange-guy running gear. In practise I hope I will maintain some momentum and continue to run though the current break feels truly well-deserved (my natural laziness needs to be allowed a little more space and freedom surely, although hopefully it won't take over my entire existence forever).

But equally I feel this concept of pushing along should continue somehow. And so I've been thinking.

Not exercise, I thought, something else. What else have I repetitively failed to achieve before? Ah, yes, the answer is clear ...

And so yesterday, (I think I'm still within the 24 hours!) I began my latest attempt at self-improvement and dedication to the cause of additional life guilt. I started to try and teach myself ...

... to play the guitar.

I am not imagining I will manage to play every single day, as realistically carting trainers with me has been a pain ... but carting the guitar around is likely to prove rather more genuinely problematic. But the idea is I will play every day I can for at least 15 minutes. Well play ... in the broadest sense you understand!

I have no apparent gift, and so I anticipate the struggle. But so far I have tuned my guitar, read some basics, placed my fingers carefully on the neck in line precisely with instructions, and played - slowly and rather unmusically - two chords. Separately.

Having had such success I then tried to move between them. That was however a step beyond and into definitely too far! But it was a start; and a start is all one needs on day one.

Having blogged therefore I leave you now to ponder this extension of my stupidity, and head to find out if my fingers are feeling any more flexible than yesterday.

And so ... my Febethon has begun. Guitar month here we come!

So ... Some last ponderings ...

Oh Janathon, oh janathon ... How you have taken over my life!

So what do I really think? Well secretly, fully acknowledging my own stupidity in signing up when I was starting a new job, and accepting the true whinginess of rather too much of my blog, and noting that it would still even now be far from appropriate to describe me as a runner ... yes, despite all these things I have to confess I think it has been good for me.

It is a long time since I have been forced to exert such self-discipline, and have stuck to it. The blogging ended up feeling harder than the running, as I searched desperately (and increasingly unsuccessfully) for a new angle on the same couple of miles of tarmac.

Right at the beginning I secretly decided I wanted to try and do at least a mile each day. I didn't own up to this on my blog as it seemed a target of dreams, and one that I could only fail as success was an impossibility. One month down the line I have run at least a mile every day (and not as many as I thought only 1.1 mile either, so I've usually pushed it that one or two extra tenths!). With a total of 63 miles I've also managed to run just over 2 miles a day on average. Ok, only just over. But that's a great feat in my world, and one I wouldn't even have set as a target at the beginning as it would have seemed as if I was dooming myself to failure.

I'm not sure if I'm fitter - I'm certainly no lighter - but I must surely somehow have benefited so I'm going to argue that I am. I feel I have finally convinced myself that while I'm still not a runner, I am someone who can run (although my last-minute dashes for trains which are all too regular don't noticeably seem any easier, which is rather depressing! I blame the shoes ...).

Overall, it has been a great thing to do. And I am pleased I did it (even if I wouldn't have said that at every point on the way through!).

Thanks so very much to Cathy and to all who have faffed around on our behalves, supporting and organising and administering and occasionally sending out bracing get-on-with-it messages. I loved the blog-reading too, inspired by the dedication and tenacity of all my fellow Janathoners. I was also touched and amazed by the comments on my own blog - presumably some folk have been serving some kind of prison rehabilitation where reading very boring pieces about nothing is part of your reintegration into society!

Janathon is a real online community event. Few of us would get through if left to our own devices. And yet with the gentle support, pressure, nagging and nurturing of our fellow heroes/victims we keep ploughing that furrow. It's been my first time in such a group and I am glad to have met you all, and touched and excited to have been accepted as part of the great Janathon gang.

So it's done! Amazing! 31 days - jogged, logged & blogged

Somehow, the fact that it was dark and cold, I wasn't very motivated, my legs ached all the way round, and it was all just a bit of a struggle was ... well ... just right really! I know the idea has been bandied around that Day 31 should be somehow a celebration and I can see the attraction - but I quite liked the fact that the final day was pretty representative of why and how it had been a challenge to get there.

It had been a long day with much driving, various tech annoyances at work, and all the fun of a governors' meeting as soon as I got home. As has so often been the case, therefore, it seemed my run was crammed in before a late dinner. As I ran I seemed to end up having a stitch nearly all the way round (which is not so usual) - adding to the high self-consciousness that is already inherent in pretty well every step of each run I do anyway! Maybe my body knew that somehow this was the last one and it simply wanted to mark the occasion in its own way? 0r maybe I've got there just in time, and my body is/was finally about to go on strike? Who knows - but it definitely all came together to remind me clearly just how much I've had to push myself to keep going!

However, despite all the above, and taking into account ice and snow, rain and wind, extraordinary procrastination and inherent laziness, I can truly now announce that I HAVE JANATHONED.

Tomorrow if I get a chance I will write a final round-off blog. But for now I am simply going to revel in my own amazement.

For with this final paragraph, the whole thing is DONE!!!! 31 Days of consecutive up, out, and jogged. 31 Days of logged. And now ... 31 Days of blogged as well.

HOORAY!!!!!!

So it's not quite Amsterdam, but even one canal makes a change ...

I would like to say that today's run - which was a circuit along the canal and back up through the centre of Devizes to a friend's house - was inspired by the opportunity to spread my wings and run somewhere different. And there would indeed be some truth in such a rumour were it to be promulgated. However ... underlying truth has a way of making itself felt in my experience. So shining the bright light of real honesty I suspect that the real reason today's run (which despite the wonderful sun we'd had earlier still ended up being mostly in the dark, sigh) ended up being Devizes was because it allowed me an extra half-hour of procrastination first as I drove over!

However, it was still a good idea, even with a semi-frozen canal shining back at me despite the dark, and regardless of the bemused look of various people wandering through the town centre. The interest attached to novelty must have worked too, as despite the cold, the aching, and the general "only two more days, after this only tomorrow" motivational self-talk theme of the day, I still managed to keep going for just over 2 miles.

Of course when I arrived at my friend's house, lighting the place up with my usual brick-red post-run colour, and looking just the part in my cold-weather-yes-I know-I-look-weird-but-at-least-I-don't-have-hypothermia running gear, I did get questioned somewhat closely regarding my sanity! But hot food and the company of some of my favourite smallfry soon solved those problems. (And after all the two year old was wearing nothing at all when I arrived, so he was hardly likely to, nor could he possibly have justified, moaning at my choice of attire!).

My findings today, in summary, anyway: canals are a recommend (at least with a decent tow path); town centres have the benefit of plenty of shop windows to distract from the heavy breathing/stitch that is otherwise the main preoccupation; and finally ... being on the last day but one and having jogged, logged and blogged is Janathontastic!

So I've really done 29 days - and the end is in sight?

Amazingly, I have now run every day for 29 days. Only two more days to go! Woo-hoo!

Today was a 1.7 mile traipse around one of the routes that I never thought I would get to know by day, night and (today) twilight as well as I now do. It started off hurting quite a lot (bizarrely my right kneecap felt as if it was going to sort of fall off - anyone?) but later on it settled down and the usual calf-moans came into play. However when I was nearly back just after a mile I pushed myself on to do another little loop that added on a bit extra so that left me pleased with my persistence (even though I suspect my calves are consulting their union again to find out if they've got reasonable cause for complaint).

It is interesting how you settle at your own level. Many of co-Janathoners would barely think a run of less than 2 miles registered on their list of options. My respect knows no bounds - indeed this month has only encouraged my awe if anything! For me though it remains a huge achievement (the only catch remaining that there is a limited amount to say to the big wide world on the topic so blogging does become more of a challenge). If I can keep going to the end I will look back with surprise, bewilderment, but also - secretly - quite a bit of pride too. (Peace quiet and stillness on Tuesday is looking pretty attractive too on the other hand, it's not all about the Janathoning, it's also about looking forward to the post-Janathon...)

For now anyway I am done. Day 29 is jogged, logged and now also blogged. Til tomorrow lovely people!

So 4 weeks but no chips? (Whingy blog alert!!!)

Today it was cold and I was tired. The idea of going jogging was unappealing whether because of the basic problem of having to get changed, through to the unpleasant thought of going outside, before any question of actual running even got mentioned. I was also suffering ache-y twinges all down my legs, no doubt simply my body asking desperately if I was ever going to stop this mad daily infliction.

However, I decided motivation of the day would be chips. I would run round a loop that ended at the chip shop, and then walk back (eating said chips). So I set off. I even managed to force myself on an extra little loop. I kept going despite lots of people who all looked up for a night out and clearly thought I was mad. I eventually warmed up enough that my fingers didn't feel as if they would drop off. I ran on and decided I could warm down once I'd ordered.

But then, disaster. On asking the assistant in the chip shop, shed told me that the chips are cooked with the fish. No!!!! For a vegetarian this is to say the least problematic. I briefly dallied with why not, but then sighed and left. Chipless. And rapidly becoming chilled. And with a walk (only half a mile but even so) home with no salt, vinegar or yummy warm stuff to keep me going.

Oh well, I suppose I shouldn't complain really. I am getting there and nearly through this month of Janathonitis. But I really don't think a few chips on a very cold night were too much to ask!

(PS - blog started yesterday but finished today. Now for my next run/log/blog and sadly no more enthusiasm than I showed here ... oh well, bye for now, back soon ... hopefully ...)

So brevity is a virtue?

Jogged.

Logged.

Blogged.

(Good things, when short, are twice as good: Baltasar Gracian)

So it's the Big Smoke?

I am sure that if I still have any readers who haven't given up entirely on me, it is only through some amazing (if even less comprehensible) commitment and stubbornness of your own that exceeds even my Janathon madness. I long ago gave up on any doomed attempt to keep this interesting!

However Day 26 is brought to you courtesy of the wonders of the Big Smoke which at least makes a change! Sadly I failed to take full advantage though. Behind Euston station may not jump out at you as the most thrilling area of London town, and indeed my enthusiasm, time and the weather conspired to make my run somewhat less than enthralling (down the road from my hotel, along past a few shops, back along a parallel road, round a petrol station, then another even less exciting loop). Clearly either tiredness or Big Smoke awe came into play as for the first time I also fell, luckily with the only injury being that inflicted on my dignity... a concept already somewhat lost in the reality of my existence anyway!

So I'm sorry folks ... Briefly yesterday had the potential for anecdote and interest but no joy! Still ... Day 26 done!

So it's this blog itself that's becoming the problem?

Following on from my last blog, I have now jogged and logged today's (very short) run and am finally almost caught up with myself.

I am flabbergasted ... 25 days in and I have so far managed (with a little bit of last minute deadeline-itis) to Janathon every day so far. I am beginning to allow little glimmers of hope that I might even make it all the way. Wouldn't that be grand? Don't tell anyone though, or it'll never happen ...

The support I'm getting from fellow Janathoners, friends and family is just fabulous (and as for you lot, reading this - I am in awe of your boredom threshold!). Aching muscles yelping at me, travel and work gaining the upper hand diary-wise, tiredness and mere procrastination fighting back: the hurdles mount. But the support I've been getting is astounding and I do think I should say thankyou*.

Interestingly, as time has gone on I have become accustomed to worrying about when to fit in the Janathon - but worrying more about what on earth I am going to blog about. It's all very well if you run miles every day, are an expert on monitoring your maximum heart rate, and are a supreme photographer.

However.

For me there is a very simple process.

1. Self-talk.
2. Get changed and out of house.
3. Set off, often without any much of a plan as to which direction, sometimes simply "the way I didn't go yesterday".
3. Walk. (aka "warm up")
$. Set phone up to GPS-track me.
5. Start jogging.
6. Put phone into specially-purchased belt.
6a. While jogging along check to see if phone working, trying not to bump into any lamp-posts while distracted. If it isn't glare at it unproductively then fiddle. Put it away again.
7. Keep jogging along one of several routes distinguished mostly by whether they are more round the outside of one of the nearby housing estates or through the middle.
8. Breathe. Breathe more raggedly.
9. Feel vaguely amazed I am still moving.
10. Self-talk.
11. Keep jogging and continue to endeavour not to bump into anything.
12. Focus on getting past the one mile point if at all possible.
13. Keep jogging beyond a mile if I can summon up the energy/time, and am not feeling too sorry for my legs, or worried about the possibility that my breathing might stop altogether.
14. Slow, turn off phone, and back to walk.
15. Try and log run on phone as I walk home. (walk home aka "cooling off")
16. Faff around failing to find key to get in.
17. Get into house.
18. Collapse on sofa/bathroom floor.
19. Stare at red face in mirror, more in sorrow than in anger. (It's such an attractive look I find.)
20. Wonder, worry and wibble over how exactly to keep you from falling asleep in my latest blog.

And so I move, in one simple step, from the whole jogging self-talk and procrastination setup, to the totally separate but bizarrely similar whole blogging self-talk and procrastination process.

This Janathon: it is a strange and wondrous concept indeed! But with this blog, nevertheless, I am done for today, and so I hereby pronounce:

Day 25, consider yourself well and truly Janathoned.

* Today for example I had NEW EQUIPMENT! If any of you are mad enough to have read all these ranting diatribes you will have formerly seen me raise concerns over the great hairband quest. Well yesterday I arrive home to a small package through the front door ... with some fantastic new hairbands** therein, specially provided to help see me through. Sally, you are a star!
** I appreciate such a gift leaves me with one fewer on the list of possible excuses for giving up, and my gratitude for such encouragement is possibly therefore mitigated, but I'm officially ignoring this element of the situation due to my over-developed stubborn streak retaining as all too often the upper hand.

So I've got to do what in the next hour ...?

Frankly, Helen, this is getting ridiculous. (I've given up the self-talk only while running. I've decided to get serious and self-talk on my blog too!)

Yesterday I got home quite late and then went out Janathoning (yes, I know it isn't necessarily a verb but as it has become the dominant feature of my entire rhetorical landscape it's linguistic role has also developed apace). Amazingly I managed to keep going for a whole three miles. I even managed to log it when I got back. I know not how these things happened I grant, but the phone (my portable GPS mechanism!) tells me they did. Then my bed called, followed by up, out, drive across several counties, work, zoom to Sainsbury's to grab food for lunch, work, drive, in, grab laptop, dash out to governors' meeting, and finally back. So now it is well over 23 hours since I got back yesterday. Thus this desperate and heartfelt blogging before my 24-hour deadline.

Then next? Oh yes, now I must faff around finding a change of clothes, and force myself out again to carry out today's jogging duties. Thank goodness we're getting there and nearly through this Janathon malarkey!

Anyway, sorry folks I've gotta dash, apparently I've got this weird Janathon commitment to keep before dinner and bedtime ;-)

So where do I find the time fairy?

Running every day has been a real test not only of my fitness and my commitment (or stubbornness, depending on perspective), but has also been a challenge on the planning and organising front. Getting out and running every day means the Janathon is permanently at the front of my brain, and I find myself repetitively thinking through my day/week to identify possible slithers of time to practise my speed-dressing skills and get tired, hot and sweaty. I know, I make it all sound so attractive!

Today, true to form my Janathon-jog was indeed crammed into a small gap. However this small crevice of time was at least to be found hidden between cycling and walking outings with two different friends; hopefully such diversity in my exercise routine is also adequate excuse for a pretty quiet and non-descript outing in itself. I started yesterday to blog too, and am now continuing/finishing at lunchtime on Monday. It's almost like living my own blog!

Having found this slither of time, though, at last day 23 is jogged AND logged AND blogged!

So less than 9 hours on and I'm out again?

Yes, after my last-minute squeezed-in mile, welcoming Saturday in with heaving breath, cold fingers and a hacking cough, I decided that today was also looking uncertain and to get up and out was the only way I could be certain of doing my run.

It nevertheless took some determination. My bed was warm and cosy. I faffed on Twitter. I faffed on Facebook. I faffed on Twitter some more. But eventually I got up. The moment of truth arrived - run the bath now and enjoy a calm, gentle, warm, cosy morning? Or on with the gear still scattered next to my bed and back out into the cold wintery morning?

I peer out of the window. Hmmm, that is a huge ex-puddle ice trap across most of the road outside my house. It looks really very cold. My house is hardly a sauna, but comparatively it suddenly glows with warmth and cosiness.

"Helen." Stern voices are called into play in my head. Not working? "Helen, Helen, you have no milk, you need milk, this is the perfect way to ensure a nice coffee." (I leave out the obvious "when you get back" additional tagline.) Then somehow Janathon discipline does after all kick in. I start to mechanically don my running clothes. I avoid any possibility of switching my brain on again as I get dressed, find a key and some change, seek out the gloves and hat that are my shield against reality, and leave the house. As I walk again I start to cough a little. I have a cold, I need to go home! No, I scold, it is just the cold air. Walk on. Now jog ...

2.8 gasping miles later I walk round the newsagent buying milk and a paper. A lovely woman in the queue is entertained by my walking up and down rather than queueing and lets me go in front of her as I explain it might just entirely paralyse me if I don't help out my protesting calves by keeping moving (the idea I am "warming down" remains something I cannot say although, as ever, my face is lit up like a beacon in the dark). As I walk the last stretch home clutching my paper it starts to sleet. This is sort of the final straw but also, surely, my vindication. It was not yet 10am and I had Janathoned again. 22 days straight ... and even the sleet held off until the very last moment.

It is hard and getting harder, this Janathon. But with the support and help (and mild incredulousness, it has to be said) of all my friends, family and fellow Janathoners, we still go on. I wouldn't be doing it without you :-)

So when exactly does commitment become stupidity?

Early doors out of the house, a long day in work mostly consumed by training, a late drive up the motorway, and then dinner at the house of a colleague: all sounds like a full day rounded off with lovely food and company doncha think? And indeed it was, lovely!

However ... in such a schedule when does fit in one's Janathon? Oh no, the crisis point had finally arisen! The simple time required to get changed, run, showered and changed back just didn't seem to be available.

And so, at 11.40 last night I arrived home. By 11.50 I was out in running gear with gloves, hat and above all a burning determination not to fail to keep me moving. Every step was noticed and logged, every breath deliberate, every corner rounded one turn closer to being home again and able to collapse onto a warm and cosy sofa. But I did it. By midnight I had run over a mile, and by five past I was back at home and heading directly for bed (no shower at that time of night I'm afraid!)

I still don't know, well through Saturday (although within, naturally, my 24-hour target since I can't not blog after doing what's supposed to be the hard bit!), whether I can describe such behaviour as dedication and fortitude ... or whether it is better viewed as a mixture of stupidity, stubborness and a clear inability to see the wood for the trees. Please feel free to vote again if you wish!

However, the end result is that so far I have kept it up, and secretly - now the ice and the yawning is behind me - it makes me smile. My Janathon continues!

So they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but ...

This afternoon I started my "looking stupid evening" by cycling home from the station in hat and gloves and long coat, and with long trousers tucked into my socks. Well it's always important to start the way you mean to go on. It wasn't yet dark at that point, but even so most of my attention was taken up with avoiding the visible frost/ice and hoping against hope I didn't hit any of the treacherous black stuff,

Once home I sat with my laptop on my lap, huddled in a ball, feeling chilled and contemplating the Janathon jog still required of me. The more I contemplated the dark and ice outside, the closer I huddled. Even from my sofa the very idea of going anywhere seemed a thought best left unimagined.

Nevertheless, the jedi power of the Janathon was upon me. Despite all my screeching common sense, and my pathetic excuse-finding, a couple of hours later I got myself out of the door following a heavy dose of "it'll only get even colder and icier the longer you procrastinate".

I never intended to go far. And I didn't. However at least I kept going a short distance, buoyed for a couple of corners by the self-talk promises that my run would be very short, and boosted for a few lamp-posts further by the attraction of radiators, hot drinks, food and a log fire on my return. A really rather spectacular moon kept me going for another few paces, as it shone beautifully through some well-placed trees and lit my path. And I suppose I should be grateful to another source of distraction too, namely the sight of a fellow jogger who was wearing only a white T-shirt. Yes, that's right. Just a very thin slightly loose T-shirt. (Well yes, ok, I assume he probably was wearing either trousers or shorts too - I was so shocked by the bare arms I didn't even think to check!) As I say, I should no doubt be grateful to him since at least it made me feel warmer than someone.

Perhaps I should also be grateful for the contrast that there can be no doubt he posed. If he looked merely cold I definitely took the prize for fool's outfit of the day. Trousers and trainers as per usual; then on top a sports bra, t-shirt, old jumper; long fingerless sleeve-glove things with normal gloves underneath poked out from the end of the jumper (fingers tightly curled in balls of course in a forlorn attempt to retain fragments s of warmth); a twisty-scarf-snood-thing covered my head and lower face, and was tucked right down into T-shirt, clashing and scrunching up both T and jumper; finally, to complete the outfit on top of the twisty thing I perched a black beanie-type hat, and shoved into the tiny gap between hat and twisty-thing I placed my glasses, certain that they were so jammed in at least I could be pretty sure they wouldn't be falling off however badly I skidded! Oh yes, I looked FABULOUS darling! (Though as I ran it did occur to me that should I come across a slightly lost #UKUncut or student demonstration in an obscure cul-de-sac of the local housing estate at least I'd fit right in!)

Anyway, with the protection of all those layers (and the beneficial social protection of knowing there was no way anyone would be speaking to me, or, no doubt, even acknowledging this weird jogging oddity passing through their line of sight) I went and I jogged. And that is what matters I believe.

So in summary that was me, and that was the Janathon Experience Day 20. Done, dusted; jogged, logged and blogged.

So the avoidance of thought can be essential to the achievement of outcomes!

Time is a strange and warped concept. Having been away last night (just working at an office rather too far away for easy commuting) I arrived home tonight at about half seven having had to defrost my car at the station before driving the last stretch home.

I felt that the last time I had run was weeks ago (yep, yesterday morning in reality!). The Janathon seemed a strange and alien creature, prowling the dark night entirely unconnected to me. Trying to avoid thinking about it I kept just telling myself to go and run. Physically and emotionally though I felt totally disconnected. I didn't even hate the idea of going out (yes, regular blog-readers, your cynicism is fully permitted) though the cold, dark and icy roads did not feel exactly as if they were welcoming this tired, hungry and drained worker bee. Somehow it simply felt that whole concept must have been happening to someone else.

Still, you will be proud, dear Janathon cheerleaders.

I knew dinner and then the post-prandial slump would be fatal. I knew even sitting on the sofa or curling up with coffee would scupper any chance I had too. So I went through the usual contortions to get the sports bra on; I donned the just-about-wearable sports kit retrieved from the dryer; I found the trainers; I shivered a little and found a beanie hat*; finally I shoved the phone into my new running belt and left the house.

And 25 mins or so later I was back. 2 miles done, with endurance if not with joy. So before I turn into a pumpkin I bid you all goodnight and many excellent Janathon morrows. Finally I am jogged, I am logged and now, too, I am blogged.

* Hat benefits - The beanie avoids any need for tidy hair or for the latest edition of household-hairband search ** and is therefore to be recommended to all

** Am currently considering patenting the daytime-tv rights for Household Hairband Quest so keep your eyes peeled on those obscure freeview channels

So sometimes it's actually ... not vile?

Less than twelve hours after I whinged and moaned (to myself of course - if only I had the breathing power to whinge and moan out loud!) while running my previous evening away in the rain, here I am blogging again!

And it's definitely time to say a huge thank you to all of you wonderful Janathoners and all my friends and family who have been nagging, praising and generally helping me keep going.

For this morning (whisper it secretly) was not so bad! Yes, it became another rest of painful endurance - but that was my own fault for pushing myself to the three mile mark. And I did it. What's more ... I (just) crammed in those three miles in under 30 minutes. I think this might just be my peak day!

Let us list:

- it didn't rain
- it felt (again, don't tell) almost pleasant to be up and out once I'd got out the door
- after about one mile, jogging gently downhill, I had the remotest momentary glimpse of why people might do this and perceive it to be enjoyable
- it wasn't windy
- it wasn't icy or snowy or dangerous
- and finally ... it's not yet 9 am and I am jogged, logged and blogged.

Day 18 of the Janathon: I have you vanquished!

So it is as I thought ...

Today I was up and out of the house by 7.30, and back about 9, having driven in varying heavinesses of rain - and some fog for additional entertainment - for about 3 hours back from my last meeting, as well as all the rest of the driving to get there earlier in the day.

At this 9pm checkpoint it was still raining.

My chances that it was going to magically stop raining if I hung out and waited? Well, ok, there was a chance. The laws of probability and my understanding of weather patterns (tiny as that is) tell me such meteorological developments were possible. My intuition (and although no weather guru I do have a good line in pessimism and cynicism) was that if I waited I might be rewarded by only drizzle - but was more likely to be a true winner with driving rain instead.

So I get changed. I stare bleakly out of the door. I retreat inside and find a wrap-head-covering thing. I stare bleakly out of the door again. Go Helen Go. (Or to steal another Janathoner's intellectual property (or perhaps merely borrow it momentarily, with full credit provided) Run Helen Run.)

So I'm out. And I walk. I get my phone out to "start activity" and can barely see the screen for fogged up glasses. Then I jog. And it rains. It's not chucking it down, I should be grateful I know. But for the very first time I really have had to go out in what can only be described as steady rain. I think all these things I now blog. I avoid surface water. I feel confined within my wrap thing and my blurry glasses, in a small, wet world, through which I can barely see those annoying barriers that cross the end of paths in our local housing estate (and have been placed there I assume to stop bikes and motorbikes, but operate as far as I can see solely to irritate!).

It still rains. I avoid another big puddle. I self-talk. I must persist. I remind myself how lucky I am to have my health and my wellbeing*.

I jog on to within, now, a few hundred yards of home. Finally I slow again to a walk and get out my phone to turn off the logging app, trying to minimise any potential for water damage again. Up here. Across the road. Key into lock (eventually). And I'm home again - albeit wet, and tired, and totally unclear why this was ever a good idea.

It is now maybe an hour later. I have dried off a tad, eaten a sandwich, received a couple of lovely supportive tweets, and spoken to my brother. Oh and written this griping monologue. At least that has made me smile at my own self-fulfilling negative stroppiness!

Yes, it is as I thought. Running in the rain is bleak and horrible. It is not "refreshing" or "fun" or "enlivening". Or maybe it is on Planet I'mARealRunner. On Planet Helen it isn't! Nevertheless ...

Let us smile. For it is day 17. It is late and I am tired. But I have jogged. I have logged. I have blogged. And the Janathon continues.

(*re the whole wellbeing thing - if you haven't seen all the #ombh stuff please take a look at the link, or if you're a Tweeter follow the #tag, and support many of our fellow citizens who do not have the mobility or health others amongst us take for granted. To find out more visit http://onemonthbeforeheartbreak.blogspot.com/)

So we've made it to day 16!

Day 16! 2.6 miles jogged and logged and shortly also blogged! Woo-hoo ... that means we are half-way there!

That feels like it should be fantastic. And now, some hours down the line (been for a walk and good gossip with a friend in the meantime!) it's beginning to seem at last a good thing.

However to be honest I am bemused and bewildered. On the one hand it is a feat that amazes and surprises me. On the other hand I am also somewhat disappointed. I thought that this would be a milestone of great significance which would inspire me and motivate me to ever greater things. I would reach this point and set myself targets for the second half of January to surpass the wonders achieved already. Sadly it seems I do not react as predicted. Much of my self-talk as I ran today (I assume you all do that too? Or is it just me?) - despite the fact it was daylight, amazingly! - was about telling myself I couldn't give up now. My internal gremlins kept telling me enough was enough, I'd proved a point, this would be the perfect Sunday point to stop. I strode on - keep going Helen, just to the lamppost, and the next corner, and over the road - but the sceptical voice kept on too.

So what do you think? Should I listen to my "good" or "idiot" voice and keep on with this grand plan and see the Janathon out if at all possible? Or should I take this moment of wow-16-whole-days astonishment to allow my trainers to rest while my shoulders recover from the sports bra grooves?

Incidentally - see yesterday's blog - it was even windier today. Anyone know the forecast from here on in? It is definitely not my favourite, wind, so maybe today is not a good day to be making big decisions, but even so ...

Your votes please (with a nod to Mark and Lard): do I stop or do I carry on?

So ... what do we think about wind then, folks?

I had kinda worked out that it might rain when I decided to do this, and despite idealistically thinking it would be avoidable had also, underneath, acknowledged that might be a bit unrealistic. (Mind you, so far I've avoided driving rain. And you know what, call me boring, but if I can continue that right to the end (should I get right to the end, of course, which is seeming increasingly unlikely) I'll be quite happy not to have had any "full experience" concept that anyone is wishing upon me.)

I had also factored in dark. Although I was privileged - due to starting a new job - to begin by having the ability to run along Brighton front for a few days in daylight, I always knew that once that new job started I'd probably have to get (even more) determined and factor in running in the dark.

Day 15 did indeed involve running in the dark (it was raining in the morning - proper, heavy rain - do you think I'm daft?). It didn't really involve rain (I'm a hardened (idiot) Janathoner now, and a light drizzle is barely noticed against the mantra of "keep going, keep going, just keep your legs moving child" which I am sure is audible to all within 50 paces even though I think it's just in my head ...).

However it did involve wind. Now I hadn't factored in wind. It's quite a pain isn't it? It kind of ... blows. A lot. Annoyingly. I guess it is also supposed to help push you along but how come I don't notice that, I just notice it blowing my hair onto my (lovely red and sweaty) face, and generally making it feel as if I've added a whole extra dimension of pain and difficulty into the equation?

So folks, I don't know how you feel about wind, but personally - I'll do without. Maybe it's lovely on a warm spring day in gorgeous sunshine, when it's really a gentle breeze. But proper wind, in the dark, redirecting the drizzle into my face when really it could go somewhere else; well thanks but you're welcome to it, I reckon.

Still I managed two miles! Hooray! And so on we go. One more day and we'll be past half-way ... :-)

So rules are made to be pushed to the limits aren't they?

I'm sure the rules say you need to blog within 24 hours. So in the spirit of conforming while also pushing to the limit I am finally getting round to it about 23 1/2 hours later!

Mind you the blog reflects the jog so appropriately in being crammed in to my day. Yesterday I actually had plans for the evening (don't tell anyone but I went for a walk and visited a friend - I know, socialite of the year, me). So my jog was necessarily short. And solely to ensure a neat and appropriate symmetry this blog also shall be short - nothing to do with the fact I have to get changed now and start the whole flippin' round-robin all over again!

So it's kinda like supermarket shopping ...

... but the opposite?

Yep that's right. Today's dodgy untested and totally unverified (but usefully distracting to ponder between aching calves and misty glasses) theory^ is that scheduling supermarket shopping and procrastinating re jogging sort of require the same but opposing thought processes.

There is oft a rule cited that one should not shop while hungry, as the balance of biscuits to boring is good for neither body-shape nor bank-balance. In contrast if the very last thing on your wanna-do list is running but (due to previously mentioned competitive idiocy) you "have to" go anyway, hunger is a great motivator. Well ok, that and the briefest of breaks in the rain anyway (even if it did restart raining all too quickly once the latest jogging victim was spied from the control box).

In summary I firmly recommend that you consider going for your run, fellow Janathoners, when already hungry and dinner is waiting. GPs and personal trainers the world over are probably having palpitations as I type. But motivation through prevarication ... that could really take off as a concept I reckon.


^ sorry re long adjectival brackets, please just put out down to late-night blogging, which while less likely to induce vomiting by creator than late-night drinking, is possibly more likely to induce deposit and complaints among audience

So I hear there are no more brownie points left in the whole of Wiltshire?

Well that's easy to explain. That'll be because I have just become entitled to every last brownie point in the area. And any that have wandered here by mistake. And a few spares that were handed over to make up the numbers from Somerset too.

The reason? You may have guessed the underlying rationale, but not have understood its true significance. For I have gone running. For a 12th straight day. And in the rain. Yes it was just a mile. But it was in the rain, do you not understand?

So I am now even more knackered than before I went. And I'm wet. And I can't come up with a single interesting thing to say about it apart from those two fundamental factors. But I went out, and I jogged, and that is surely enough on a cold damp dark January evening.

So it was going well at 7.30 but...

By 7.30 this morning I had hauled my protesting legs out of bed, into running gear, round a large-ish block (for me) and home again. I had recorded my run online. I had relit the boiler (which had blown out for the third or fourth time this week - yes another nagging issue to bury my head in the sand over for a bit longer). I had even sorted some left overs into fridge portions. Wow was I doing well.

Now it is 10.30. I arrived home tired and late. I dined courtesy of the burger joint (ok it's a good burger joint, but honesty must nevertheless prevail). It seems I am incapable of coaxing my new (to me, though definitely not to the world) laptop to sign onto my wireless. And that third leg of the Janathon triumvirate, the blog, had almost escaped. I knew this whole efficiency and organisation concept would never take off!

However I have struck back. The blog is hereby declaring itself done. And so with no more ado, I bid you adieu; I fear we will meet again all too soon oh great blog-watchers and Janathon-martyrs ...

So did you really intend to show me what 6-something looks like? In running gear?

Yep, 6.15 this morning the alarm went off. And within moments, without my body moving a muscle, my brain entered a state of civil war:
=> "Get up now and then you won't have to do it later."
=> "It's dark. I'm tired. Look at the time."
=> "Get up you useless lazy person."
=> "It's really dark. And really early. And yesterday it was icy."
=> "You'll only have to run in the dark tonight, y'know."
=> "You could just give up on this whole daily running thing." (I know, the treachery of it, who'd believe it?)
... you can probably play the rest of this scene for yourself!

Outcomes tell tales though. It would appear that idiot-competitive-brain still has the advantage at this point, as amazingly I returned from my Monday Janathon just after 7 still alive, and even managing to raise a somewhat breathless, sweaty and pained smile (lazy-brain kicking back with "at least that's over anyway" I reckon).

It was still dark when I returned, with slightly bluer skies just coming through. Janathon-instigating-geniuses: you are clearly miracle-workers. I bow down to your superior abilities of persuasion and beg of you never to turn your powers to (even more) nefarious means.

I realise this is supposed to be a blog about the run itself. But really, the housing estates of a could-be-anywhere-really, small west-country town lend little to the imagination, especially when that part of the brain clearly had more sense than its siblings, ignored the argument entirely, and opted to stay in bed come what may. In some glorious future maybe I'll actually enjoy the running. In the meantime though, while I see my mission rather more as forcing myself out, forcing myself along, and counting almost every step as one step closer to home again, trust me that this blogging about nothing, and blogging about blogging, saves you from a fate that could be worse ...

So does falling finally make me a real Janathoner?

I was so pleased with myself. Only a moment or two past 9am and I was up and out on the 9th day of this great Janathon adventure.

I can't claim I felt honoured to be up and out, but pleased with my own determination, yes I suppose so. It was early (ish - yes you can tell I don't have children!), cold and icy and still I was up and out.

Such small prides were always going to lead to commensurate falls. Lucky really that the prides were small; at least the falls were small too ...

Only yards from my front door I skidded and slowed my "warm-up walk" from cautious to fearful. I then found my confidence increasing and gradually set off along grass verges and with watchful eye did jog. It was a short route, brevity being justified by the need to be safe (and not at all caused by the sense that finally my body had had enough and every pace was going to be counted and recorded and held against me into the future...).

Various idiot-looking slides and stumbles had me looking around to see if I was to be candid-camera'd. (Of course no-one was interested at all. One always overestimates the attraction of one's idiocy in such circumstances I find.) Despite such distractions I nevertheless made it to all of 1.something miles and gratefully dropped back to a walk. Ha! I was done! I had braved ice and cold and even Sunday-morning-itis, and yes I'd be winning no medals but at least I'd gone and was nearly home. Ah coffee; bath; toast; a well-deserved collapse on the sofa. Thus does the mind skip ahead. Just across this road and round the corner and...

Ow! Ok, so I'm not really hurt but neither did I have plans to be sitting so suddenly or so spectacularly on the tarmac just here. Humph. I suppose that extra last tiny smidgen of pride was too much and the fall became unavoidable.

Oh well. I seem to have suffered no lasting injury. And compared to the major achievements, inspiring distances and news-worthy incidents blogged by others no element of my brief outing can really be counted worthy of a mention. But this is my Janathon. Getting up and out is plenty of achievement for me; ditto falling amusingly but relatively painlessly is enough incident to last me too. After all only way too many days left to go...

So it's day 8 and I'm still going?

I was pondering on about day 3 that the really hard time was going to be days 10-15 or so, when being still less than halfway through the month would coincide with starting a new job. However I had failed to recognize quite how much gentle motivation I was gaining from my mad (wonderful) going-to-do-a-marathon-soon friend I was in Brighton with.

Now back in Westbury on my own, without the attraction of sea or the support of my cheerleader, getting out of the door is proving a challenge in itself. I never had any illusions this'd be easy, but blimey sometimes a grey dark night can be a hard foe to fight.

I am, all the same, on day 8. And as of yet my competitive (idiot) streak is clearly out-playing my be-sensible (lazy) streak. We shall see! Thanks to all fellow Janathoners and to the wonderful #Twitter community too. There's no way I'd have run every day for 8 days without the whole gang supporting and driving me along.

Here's to more of the madness and hopefully also the slowly improving fitness that was supposed to be driving this whole mad concept!

So I've gone how far?

All week I've been using apps on my phone (an android) to track what I've been doing.

I've slowly realized that the two I've been comparing regularly tell me I've jogged for roughly the same time, but quite differing distances. Why does one say I've gone 1.54, and the other 1.79 miles? And which is right? It affects not only how far I can claim but also the speed of course. The maps seem similar - it's just the distance they register for the same run that varies. Hmmmm.

I know it's silly to use two; and of course I'd prefer the one that says i'm slightly less of a slowcoach going nowhere.... But i'm sure there must be a right answer too, and just choosing based on the one that makes me feel better seems a weak criterion. Any advice wonderful army of Janathoners?

Still, I am proud to have completed day 7 (even if there does seem to be still a LOT of this Janathon month left) and I can surely claim 1.5 miles at least? I think so anyway!

So today's key skill is not thinking?

It's cold. It's dark. I'm tired.

This triumvirate of thoughts go round and round in my head. I get changed focusing very determinedly on the practical movements of changing my clothes. I find a hairband. I have a new bit of kit but even that just looks problematic today (I'll defer the excitement to tomorrow maybe?).

It's cold. It's dark. I'm tired.

Helen, stop thinking. Be grateful it's not actually raining however, unlike this morning (which was the reason/excuse for the lazy start earlier in the day). Do not ponder on what you are about to do. Do not even acknowledge what you are about to do. You are getting changed. You are finding money so you can buy a pint of milk. You are locating a key. You are putting on trainers.

It's cold. It's dark. I'm tired.

Helen, you are now leaving the house. And you will walk, and then you will jog. Don't consider. Just do.

That was me an hour or so ago. Now it is time to say hooray! I am home again. I am changed, and warm, and have lit the fire. Above all I have run. I have recorded my run. And I have almost blogged.

So my learning for today? Do not look straight at what you are about to do. If possible avoid any direct engagement with activity at all (particularly when it is cold, and it is dark, and one is tired). In simple terms, learn the ability not to think and all will be well. Or if well is too optimistic nonetheless ... Janathon day 6 will be done!

So who be this grey stranger?

The first thing I noticed as I exited down the steps and onto - again - Brighton front this morning was the cold. This was rapidly followed by hugging my top around me in response to the wind. And then some awe-inspired moments spent looking out at the waves and spray (while still huddling into my running gear in a hopeless attempt to create warmth out of hope and optimism). All of this while doing my "walk to warm up" (I jest not) which was trained into me back when I first discovered if one builds it up slowly enough, yes even people like me can eventually manage a mile or two.

However, then suddenly my attention was grabbed by another person stretched out in front of me along the promenade, attached to my feet. This stranger, grey and elongated, moved with me, with synchronised gait and mysterious loyalty.

Hooray! For despite the wind, despite the cold, I also, amazingly, had found the sun. Oh how glorious be the sun.

And thus did I find a little shelter from the worst of the wind, and started to jog (however slowly and tiredly on this my fifth day) and watched as my shadow inexorably pulled me along behind. With the support and help of this wondrous sun, and the inspiration derived from the crashing waves, I managed all the way along to the beach hut colour-chart in Hove and all the way back as well.

Tomorrow no doubt my calves will again wish to have their say. But today it appeared they too were silenced by the glories of a truly fabulous winter morn.

So it appears my calves believe in free speech?

I believe firmly in the right to protest, and being given the space to speak up for your rights.

As such, it was hard to stand true to my principles yesterday afternoon and evening while ignoring my calves as they articulated loudly and clearly their view on this whole Janathon malarkey. Each time I sat down for half an hour plus they clearly revisited their right to protest and voiced ever louder their demand to be taken into consideration.

So, true to my principles I agreed to some negotiation. And we talked. And then eventually we cut a deal.

The result was this morning's outing, a miler only retracing some of the route along and back from yesterday. Well ok it ended up being 1.4 miles to be precise, though I don't think that was really cheating (they aren't complaining yet, but maybe they're consulting their union ...). That did include two very brief bursts of upping the pace, for about 20 steps each time. (Yes, I would love to call it sprinting but I have too much respect for the English language.)

However, if I remember the Janathon rules rightly it all counts. So that means that somehow we're on day 4 and I'm still on track.

And now I'm blogged again too!

So I did what before breakfast?

There are some friends who are just basically very good for you. So having dragged my holiday pal out running on arrival in Brighton yesterday, she then spent the last few minutes before we hit the sack last night patiently bringing the conversation back - however often I changed the subject - to whether we'd get up and go out again before breakfast this morning.

Although she actually owned up to planning a longer run herself (which duly took place to Hove and beyond) her supportive gentle nagging is still probably the real reason I found myself jogging along the front this morning (albeit nowhere near Hove) before breakfast. And yes, I was pleased with myself afterwards. Sigh. How predictable I am!

So two-and-a-half miles of sea and sunrise. What more could one ask for on a winter holiday than the sustaining warmth provided by such self-satisfied smugness?

So that's what the end of the pier looks like ...

Having spent most of a rather nice day in trains or coffee shops, once it got dark I realised I really had to get out and do my bit if I had any hope of moving forward my mission.

And thus did I find myself running along Brighton pier and back, with my over-fit barely-noticing-she-was-running friend who thought we were going on a baby holiday ... but seemed remarkably positive about the suggestion that the very first thing we should do once we had found our room was to go jogging. Some people are strange ... I guess that's why we love 'em.

Anyway, according to the clock on my pedometer we managed just over 20 minutes of jogging, which was further than my "minimum" plan and therefore all good. At least it probably burned off at least one-and-a-half mouthfuls of the rather indulgent burger and wedges consumed earlier in the day.

And thus do we have day two anyway. And now I'm blogged as well. Ha. That's almost 1/15 of the way there (yes, I know, practising my numeracy as well, whatever next in this endless cycle of self-improvement ...).

So I'm already breaking the rules ...?

The rules of the Janathon are that this picture must be on your blog. Well as I dunno how to do that yet, here's a separate dedicated blog entry with a big picture instead. It'll just have to do for now!

For more visit www.janathon.com :-)

Maybe I'll find out how to get the picture onto the blog front page later. Or is that a challenge too far?

So at least it's a start, drizzle and all

So I'm mooching around on Facebook. And I see that @sareid has commented about a "gentle little 5 miles" with an additional comment.

So I click on the link to the Janathon website. What did I do in 2010 that I am imposing this punishment on myself in 2011?

Humph. Oh well. I suppose I'm doing this because ... well I am. We'll see.

Anyway, having spotted the Janathon thing early lunchtime, I've now had lunch and mooched away the evening til it got dark and now - I've been for a run! Hooray!

Just over two miles (nothing gentle about it, that's a long way for me - @sareid and I are in different leagues on this one) but I've done it, and now I've set up this blog too. It drizzled gently all the way, it was dark, and I really need to sort out a better way to carry my phone-come-workout-companion. But still, I found my trainers, I didn't die horribly, I stuck to streetlights so can also claim the being sensible badge, and now I'm back. Hooray!

Only 30 more days in January to go (they did say a run around the garden counted didn't they - shame they don't know the size of my garden but I reckon that definitely counts as privileged information...)

Back tomorrow then I suppose!