Perfect Day

It's Such A Perfect Day

I'm Glad I Spent It With You

One day, early this week, I had a text from Fran telling me she felt really great. When someone's having chemotherapy a text to say they feel great is like a bonus sunny day when you were expecting thunderstorms. I replied to say she should absolutely make the most of these days. But shouldn't we all? 

Lou Reed wrote Perfect Day after spending a day in Central Park. It's about simple things done off the cuff, not grand gestures. Going to the park, drinking sangria, going to the zoo, seeing a movie. Spending time with people you love. Simple things; perfect day. Fran's approach to her illness and treatment has been to grab those perfect days when she can. To consciously set out to have them. Heading into the last spring bank holiday weekend we could do worse than follow her lead.

Perfect Day was recorded again in 1997 as a collaboration - a diverse collective of artists from all walks of life, genres and (lets be frank) ability getting together to raise money for charity. Sort of like our own team for the Grand Union Challenge. Like the 1997 version, which was recorded remotely by artists that didn't meet until later live performances, our team has been training and preparing for the 100k walk in a variety of ways and locations. I thought this post might be a good time to introduce you to our collective: 

Me (over there on the right >>>>) :

It was me that hatched this, plainly ridiculous, plan to get a group of people together and walk 100k from London to Milton Keynes. I suppose that makes me the Lou Reed of the group (minus the heroin addiction and hopefully with better hair). When Fran told me about her diagnosis I just wanted to do something. Anything. I've lost too many people to cancer. It's a topic very close to my heart. I'm not sporty. Not remotely. I have been known to get out of bed too quickly and pass out so I'm always a little wary of physical exertion. That said, I figured if I can just keep on putting one foot in front of the other for long enough, even I should be able to walk 100k.

Jamie:

My husband. The sporty one. Lost an aunty and a cousin to cancer within months of each other. Ran his first London Marathon last month (that's him grimacing as he crosses the finish line above) so he has very few toenails and a lot of blister experience. Joined the team to show his support for Fran and "to keep his fitness levels up" (??!) Second to join the team, I guess that makes him Bono? 

Stuart:

Fran's husband. The camera-shy one (I couldn't find a single picture of him online - apart from this one of his feet. I'm sorry). Third to join the team, which makes him either the woman from Morcheeba or David Bowie... Can spend a whole 5 hour training walk talking about F1 if we let him, but he brings spare Yorkie bars and is therefore forgiven. One of the loveliest men I know. And I know a few lovely men. 

Michelle:

The busy one. Michelle works in one of my teams and is currently studying part time while working full time. She's fitting training walks into a packed schedule of lectures, assignments and full time work. That's her on the left, on our first training walk from Market Harborough to Northampton about to walk through a very long, very dark tunnel. I'm at the back taking the photo and all I could think of was Scooby Doo...

Em:

The remote one. Em works in Yorkshire during the week and so is training by herself mainly. Em probably shouldn't be doing this walk, given that she has a few problems with her back. But she figured that if Fran can go through chemo, the least she can do is go for a very long hike. That's her on the right in the picture above. She turned up without shoes for that walk. We're hoping things have improved, kit-wise, since then. 

Siobhan:

The London one. That's her in her usual habitat above; a London boozer. Siobhan's husband is an endurance event veteran, having completed the Marathon De Sables in a very respectable time last year. He's currently injured so is training vicariously through her. As a result she's aching a bit and I'm feeling a little like Boyzone must have felt when recording Perfect Day alongside Bono and Elton. Out of their depth.

Shelly:

The detail focused one. Shelly joined the team last week so we eased her in gently with a 10 mile walk to Stoke Bruerne.  At 9.7 miles we reached our destination, Shelly barely breaking a sweat on the hottest day of the year so far. As we sat down for a well-earned drink Shelly promptly announced she was just off to walk the other 0.3 miles, otherwise it would bug her. A real completer-finisher that one. 

And you!

The collective wouldn't be complete without the brilliant, generous people who have sponsored us so far. We're so grateful for your support - of us, but more importantly of Fran. Every time she sees another familiar name pop up on her sponsor page it raises a smile. So thank you to you all.

If you'd like to join the collective you can sponsor us here:

http://www.justgiving.com/FransChallenge

Have a wonderful Bank Holiday - I hope you get to have at least one Perfect Day. 

You'll Never Walk Alone

When you walk through the storm

Hold your head up high

And don't be afraid of the dark

At the end of the storm

There's a golden sky

And the sweet silver song of the lark

In December last year a very good friend and colleague was diagnosed with bowel cancer. She had been visiting the doctor for over a year with symptoms and had some difficulty being taken seriously - she is young, female, isn't overweight, doesn't smoke or drink to excess. She didn't fit the profile. 

Cancer didn't care. Cancer doesn't care. 

Cancer, as the well worn statistics tell us, will do that to 1 in 3 of us. It's common, it's pervasive. And yet when it sweeps into your life - turning plans on their head, challenging your view of the world, making you second guess your lifestyle choices and curse your bad luck - you can feel really, really alone. 

So when Fran's diagnosis came last year her friends and colleagues wanted to do something to show her that she wasn't alone. We can't do the tough part. The surgery, the chemo, the pain and frustration and slog that is fighting the toughest fight one person may ever have to fight. But we can show her that she isn't walking through this storm alone.

Our way of doing that was to sign up for this: www.grandunionchallenge.com One hundred kilometres from London to Milton Keynes along the Grand Union Canal. Non stop. On foot. For 24 hours. 

At the time, I saw some vague, tangential link between the original logistics infrastructure of the UK that is the Grand Union Canal and the logistics industry that introduced me to Fran and that makes up our 9 to 5 (and the rest!). Now, the symbolism is much clearer. We are walking a very, very, very long way because the process of taking on an ultra endurance challenge way outside our comfort zone is our way of saying "You won't walk this alone". 

The walk takes place in just under 6 weeks. I'll post (between walks and training and bathing my feet in epsom salts) about each of the team, our progress, Fran's progress and other musings. If only because it will give me an opportunity to ask people to sponsor us here:

https://www.justgiving.com/FransChallenge

Please do. It can be your way of walking with us and showing your solidarity for Fran, and all the other 1 in 3's.

Thank you.