Snippets...

My celebrity slimmer fave Natalie Cassidy is in this week's Look magazine reportedly 'back to her old Albert Square self' i.e. fat. She's supposedly put on 2 and a half stone and gone up to a size 14 after comfort eating as she's finding it tough to find work since quitting Easties. Apparently she's been 'forced' to concentrate on theatre but a starring role in The Cherry Orchard was critically panned.

Did anyone notice that Ricky Martin became a father to twin boys this week? Some surrogate arrangement - naturally! He's taking a year off (from what?) to be a full time parent.

Who can't wait for the latest reality show Celeb Air to hit our screens on ITV2 on Tuesday? I know I'll find it hard to resist watching certainly the first episode. It's the usual 'celebs' - Kenzie, Chico, Tamara Beckwith and husband and wife reality show faves Lisa Scott Lee and Johnny Shentall. The celebs 'work' as airline employees both on the ground and in the air and the winner gets money to give to the charity of their choice...whilst they get to line their own pockets with magazine and other deals.

Talking of other deals Chico has been touting about his own 'Chico time' tv show - a cross between Jim'll Fix It and Barrymore's My Kind of People. He hopes ITV will sign him up.

And one of my fave tv programmes, Come Dine With Me, is also getting another celebrity airing. Who could forget the last time this was done with MC Harvey (boooo!), G4's Jonathan Anstell and I can't remember who else! This time round it's old rogue Peter Stringfellow, Linda Barker, Blue's Lee Ryan and newly single Michelle Heaton. Again the prize is £1,000 to give to charity but I'm sure it will boost (even it it's just for 5 minutes) their flagging public profiles. Maybe Michelle will cop off with Lee. Or Stringy.

What not to Wear...

I look rough at the moment. As I type this blog my hair is scraped back by a pink Hello Kitty lycra head band that my mum bought me from the kid's department in H&M. She thought I might want to wear it out running...I don't think it will be getting a public airing but within the confines of my own home - I love it! Anyway staying with the subject of my hair. It's baaaad. Way too much grey, frizzy and currently not been washed for 2 days so sticking up all over the shop. I blame my hairdresser entirely. We were scheduled for a nice colour and cut this week when she only went and did a sickie! Well I'm convinced she did a sickie because she had apparently been moaning about the fact she was going to have a quiet, boring day so opted to stay in bed instead. I didn't find out until I turned up optimistically at the salon having changed my plans to go to London with the boyf for the day. I now can't be seen for 8 weeks - 8 WEEKS!! This is a tragedy.

It's not just the hair it's the clothes. When we did eventually make it to London I dressed to impress. Or so I thought. I caught a glimpse of myself trying on a nice red 'Chanel' stylie bag in French Connection in Covent Garden and was mortified. The top that had looked soo nice with black jeans and wedges on a night out, just dragged me down when paired with grey skinnies and pumps for the daytime (even though the guy at the Krispy Kreme stall had told me he liked my co-ordinated look).

Taking this into consideration you would've thought I'd have spent the whole of yesterday beautifying myself but no. I was gardening so there was no point when I was just going to get covered in mud. And today? Well the dog had to be walked so I just threw on a baggy white t-shirt, 3/4 length camouflage combat shorts, hid my face and hair under a black cap and added a pair of old flip flops to the mix. Why I wore flip flops I don't know, wellies would've been more appropriate. It was fine on the pavement but once we hit the fields I audibly squelched and my legs got covered in grass cuttings which I'm still picking out from between my toes now. Ewww just seen my crusty heels...

Anyway I'll spare you any more of my body image woes. Hopefully I'll manage to pull something out of the bag before my return to work tomorrow (urgh!). At least I have one good thing - my eyebrows! We have a new Benefit Brow Bar in Debenhams in Chelmsford and I made the most of my 20% discount voucher from the Essex Chronicle to go and have them done. Nothing else might be working for me at the moment but at least I've got awesome brows! Check me out!

Last Choir Standing

When the boyf asked me if I fancied tickets to go and see a new BBC series called Last Choir Standing I was extremely dismissive. I thought it would be dull. Choirs?! Nick Knowles? Pah! Whilst he looks nice and dirty he does absolutely nothing for me. I'm now eating my words.

We came to the programme rather late in the day, only once the live shows hit our screens, but it's been fantastic viewing. The choirs have ranged from traditional Welsh male voice such as Only Men Aloud (who won the final last night) to funky church gospel in the form of Revelation and my faves, the Welsh school Ysgol Glanaethwy (been fab hearing Nick Knowles try and say that every week).

Apparently singing as part of a choir is one of the nation's favourite pastimes and there are 25,000 registered choirs around the country. I'm sure there's going to be a second series so I'm off to find me a choir to join...

Oh and I just have to add how perfect is Mylene Klass's life? She's extremely successful, has a gorgeous baby daughter (who, according to Jo Wylie is even cuter than Gwen Stefani's son Kingston) and she always looks nothing less than beautiful, although maybe a little too on the skinny side.

Happy Christmas!

Top floor of my local Debenhams this week - fake Christmas trees and Christmas cards...in August. Why oh why oh why? Every year people comment about how ridiculous it is and how much 'earlier' Christmas starts - well certainly for the retail business. I have no intention of starting anything to do with the festive season until the end of November when we hit Prague for the Christmas Markets yay!

Rosie's Return

You might've read in the paper about the amazing Rosie Swale Pope who has just returned from a 5 year adventure running around the world. I've been following Rosie's fascinating trip over the last couple of years in Runner's World magazine (they provided her with some of her equipment).

Rosie started her journey on her 57th birthday in October 2003 aiming to run around the world on her own, entirely self supporting on a very low budget to raise the profile of prostate cancer which took the life of her second husband Clive. She said his death taught her how precious life is and how short it can be and how you HAVE to grab life adding "you have to do what you can do while you can and try to give something back".

Rosie is no stranger to adventure travel having sailed round the world from England to Australia in the 1970s with her first husband and her daughter. Her second child, a son James was born on board the boat. In 1983 she sailed the Atlantic solo and later trekked over 2,000 miles through Chile on horseback.

Rosie didn't start running until she was 48 and during her trip around the world she endured freezing temperatures suffering pneumonia, frostbite and a breast cancer scare. The last 30 miles of her journey home to Tenby in Wales were slow progress on crutches as she'd fractured both hips. How many of us would've just given up?

I think Rosie is an inspiration. Obviously she seems to like this kind of thing but from reading some of her stories this was beyond tough. I also wonder what she will do next!

You can read more about Rosie at www.rosiearoundtheworld.co.uk

Bloody Blackberry...

I'm on leave this week. We've not gone away, just taking some much needed time out at home. It's been great so far. We've tried out a fantastic new restaurant in Chelmsford, been to see our local non-league football derby, taken our niece and nephew to see Wall-e at the flicks and tomorrow we're off to London. However, it's been hard for both of us to forget work because of technology. The boyf got a text yesterday to say could he phone the office. He immediately panicked thinking it must be important for them to contact him on his holiday. When he rings today it's nothing major at all so why couldn't it wait until next week?

For me it's been the curse of the bloody Blackberry. A while ago I decided to just have one mobile phone - my work one. A couple of my colleagues had done this and said it actually worked out cheaper just paying the company for your personal calls. It's caused a bit of confusion as I can't remember who I've told I've stopped using the other phone meaning some friends still text it and of course don't get a reply.

Then came the changeover to the Blackberry. We'd all been reluctant to get them but it would solve our email problems when working off site so we gave in. Not only have I found the thing a nightmare to use it means you never switch off. If the thing is on, then you're 'working', you're contactable. Emails keep popping up (including from colleagues working on Bank Holiday Monday??) and it's meant I've not really forgotten work. I've tried not to have it on much but I do like to check for texts and phone calls. So with this week forcing the issue I'm going to buy a new personal phone. Who said technology was a good thing?

I get a buzz from a bargain!

There's a piece in today's Sun about how celeb BFF Fearne Cotton and Holly Willoughby have been spotted out in the same dress (the premise being that Fearne who wore it first then lent it to Holly). The Sun are claiming this is proof that even celebs are feeling the credit crunch and are trying to think of ways to save money.

I'm not convinced. I think it's more like a typical girlie thing. Me and my 'sistas' have always shared clothes. Passing stuff on when we get bored of them or they don't fit and if they're no good for us then we pass them on to family and other friends. I recently became the proud owner of a fantastic pair of black three quarter length trousers passed on from my BFF's brother's girlfriend and I can't wear them enough. Even if they only last me a couple of months or I go off them it doesn't matter - they cost me nothing!

Last week me and the sistas hit the charity shops in Leigh-on-Sea. Ok some of them smell...the one next to the wet fish shop in particular reeked of smoked haddock so we didn't stay in there long. It was an extremely successful trip. I got a Top Shop t-shirt, still with all the labels on, in really good nick for £2.25 and a Top Shop black skirt for £2.50. Granted you do have to be a bit picky. Some stuff is a bit bobbly and worn and I would NEVER buy underwear from these shops - ewwwww! I also got a crystal candlestick for £3 - they're currently selling almost exact replicas for £16 in Next.

Charity shops are fun. Where else would you find 'the book of Beaver'...and by spending in these shops you're also giving something back. You also avoid looking like the High Street clones. And if you really can't bear the charity shops then just hit TK Maxx instead. Happy Shopping!

Bye Bye Beijing!

Is it wrong to cry at an Olympics Closing Ceremony? I'm not talking major sobs, just a sense of overwhelming emotion. I've loved the Beijing Olympics so much. I don't know what I'm going to do with myself now they're over. No more Olympic Breakfast, no more highlights in the evening or getting up in the middle of the night to watch an event. No more Michael Johnson with his witty commentary. I think its been a fantastic fortnight and one I shall never forget.

The Closing Ceremony had me opened mouthed at times (just like when I was watching the Russians in the synchronised swimming yesterday). I really hope London 2012 is just as spectacular. Talking of which our 8 minute segment when the Games were officially handed over to us was good. Leona looked fabulous decked out in gold singing 'Whole Lotta Love' on top a transformer stylie London bus accompanied by the legendary Jimmy Paige on guitar. My only criticism was she could've rocked it out a bit more. She looked a little awkward on the dancing front.

And then there he was...old Goldenballs himself. I couldn't help but cheer. Becks looked hot! Unlike Sue Barker who has been wearing some dodgy outfits throughout the Beeb's coverage. Oh and someone really should've had a word with Boris Johnston. He should've done his suit jacket up and he couldn't control his hands. You could tell he was REALLY fighting not to put them in his pockets and in the end he gave up and just did. It was also quite comical the whole flag waving thing. Not only did the poor Chinese guy handing it over to the Mayor of Beijing get the flag caught on his head but then both Mayors struggled to wave the pole around!

We then had the live coverage of the Visa 2012 party. Me and the boyf both applied in the ballot for tickets but were unsuccessful. I was a bit underwhelmed by the whole event. Predictable...the cast from We Will Rock You as the opener...then they dug up Sophie Ellis Bextor to sing 'Nobody Does it Better'. We even had a guest appearance from Liz McClarnon fresh from winning Celebrity Masterchef - woot!!! Are we really interested in what she has to say about the Olympics?

Claudia Winkleperson seemed to struggle with the whole presenting thing. The only reason I wished we had gone was Phillips Idowu who made an appearance in a red Mr Perfect t-shirt and a vile Bugs Bunny jacket. Oh and Michael Phelps. I didn't get that. Why would he turn down the opportunity to carry the flag for his country in the Closing Ceremony and opt to come to our party instead? He looked knackered literally fresh off the plane. His interview was cut short by the arrival of the Red Arrows. The eagerly anticipated headline act was Will Young who (I'm sorry Paul) was really average. He didn't get me or the crowd going at all. If you missed it you didn't miss much.

So Bye Bye Beijing thank you it's been great and bring on London 2012 - I can't wait!!

I got a medal!

Unfortunately it's not an Olympic gold but I'm still proud of it. I did the Mersea 5 this morning which is one of my favourite local races. Mersea Island is a sort of 'secret' place 15 miles from Colchester in Essex. It's very pretty, with lots of nice houses and a traditional seafront full of colourful beach huts.

It's not an easy course - 'undulating' is how they describe it which basically means there's some ups and downs. The main hill, although a long climb, is nothing compared to the Thrift Green Trotters 10k last month so it felt relatively pain free. The only problem was the typical British Bank Holiday weather. It was cold, windy and very, very wet. Yet I managed to achieve a personal best on this particular course finishing in 47 minutes 40 seconds (still awaiting official time). I was under instructions from the boyf not to talk my way round and finish in 48 minutes so I was chuffed.

Zip it!

I like to talk...lots...and to anyone. I'm not fussy. I talk to complete strangers - in the park, the supermarket, just totally randomly. In doing so I like to think that I'm spreading a little bit of Pixie happiness, sunshine and love. I like just getting to know people. Always have done. This can come in handy when you're on a night out with your single girlfriends and they want to meet men. Old gobby usually bowls over and makes first contact (no alcohol required). I also have a tendency, a bit like Prince Phillip, to say out loud what other people are thinking and sometimes that can get me into trouble. I should engage my brain before I open my mouth.

Last night I was walking through the park with the dog. There was a lot of football training taking place as usual. We tend to get some of the London Premiership clubs coaching local youngsters, that sort of thing taking place. Anyway I spot this guy who I've seen on numerous occasions. He's always decked out head to toe in Spurs gear and bears more than a passing resemblance to former Spurs manager Martin Jol. Now I LOVED Martin Jol with a passion. I couldn't resist the opportunity to go over and talk to this man even though it meant interrupting him in mid conversation with someone else. So over I bowl, bold as brass and comment on his similarity to my former hero, he laughs and then puts on a funny accent and says that of course he doesn't speak Dutch. I then notice that actually this guy is quite a bit younger than Martin Jol so I hastily add that and he says "cheers darling" and is all grins. So off I continue with the dog thinking I've done good, I've made someone's day when that awful familiar sinking feeling sweeps over me. Martin Jol is quite portly...what if I've insulted this bloke and am now going to be responsible for him becoming manorexic? I briefly contemplate going over to apologise but think I'll probably only make things worse so I just walk home, head hung low to confess my faux pas to the boyf...in future I should learn to zip it.

Big Baps!

Why does Jordan keep having her boobs reduced? She used to be Queen of the Inflatables and proud of it. Her latest round of surgery has seen her go down to a 32C - I've got bigger boobs than Jordan!! Check these puppies out!!

(Apologies to the gorgeous newly wed Mrs Marshall for dragging her image into this seedy post!)

So sad...

Did you see this picture in the papers today? It made me feel soooo sad. It was of 11 year old gorilla Gana holding her dead 3 month old baby boy Claudio desperately searching for any sign of life. Claudio suddenly died in his mother's arms on Saturday from a suspected heart defect. Visitors to the zoo in Germany were in floods of tears as they watched this tragic situation unfold in front of them.

Gorillas like humans mourn their dead (sometimes even burying them under leaves) and distraught Gana has not let keepers near Claudio's body. This is explained by the long gestation period (longer than humans) and a high infant mortality rate amongst gorillas. Your average female will successfully rear an infant on average only every 6 - 8 years. What is even sadder still is Gana rejected a daughter she gave birth to last year at only 6 weeks old. I just want to go and give her a big hug.

Pure evil!

If you watched Corrie tonight wasn't Tony Gordon just pure evil? Sent shivers down my spine!

Is it a Phixx?

So we had the eagerly anticipated return of X Factor this weekend and the much publicised trauma for new judge Cheryl Cole of her former Popstars the Rivals 'mate' Nikk Mager turning up to audition. Nikk (surely he is really plain Nick Major?) now does working men's clubs up North whilst we all know Cheryl's story.

Did anyone else think this was all a bit 'staged'. There was no mention of his 'success' with electro 'boyband' Phixx. The boyf saw him on the GMTV sofa this morning loudly proclaiming that despite Simon Cowell telling him to call it a day, he was going to continue with his dream. His deluded excuse was Simon said that just to make Cheryl cry and for a bit of dramarama. For his part Nikk had a chest infection for a whole month leading up to the day he auditioned. He then burst into Sam Sparro's Black and Gold...

I never did like Phixx anyway. They murdered Duran Duran's Wild Boys which is totally unforgivable.

Phillips Idowu through to the final!

Phillips Idowu continues to rock my world. I unexpectedly caught his heat in the triple jump this morning. He managed to jump 17.44m on his first attempt automatically qualifying for Thursday's final. The qualifying distance was 17.10m. It looked like he's still got plenty in the tank so fingers crossed we don't get a repeat of Athens 4 years ago where he failed to register a single legal jump in the final.

If you haven't already seen the Powerade Olympic campaign then Google it...naked pictures of Phillips jumping! Amazing... I have a full page spread cut out of a magazine which I'm hoping to frame at some stage!

V for free!

We chose not to go to the V Festival this weekend (too expensive) opting instead to watch the coverage from the comfort of our own lounge without the need to worry about mud, rain or portaloos. My highlights were Alphabeat - they're sooo cheesy but totally infectious and boy can they cut it live. Unlike the Sugababes. They should really call it a day. We've watched them on the TV singing live at several big events this year - supporting Take That on New Year's Eve, at Nelson Mandela's 90th birthday and T4 on the Beach. They're dull as dishwater and have really weak voices. Girls Aloud blow them out of the water! They looked totally fabulous as ever. Really sleek and stunning in black catsuits. The only downside was on the hair front. Sarah was sporting a dodgy quiff and poor old Nicola's new bob was a funny colour...and I'm not talking ginger!!

What was even more bizarre was that we could lie in bed last night, windows open, listening to the Verve clear as a bell (we only live a mile or so from Hylands Park)!

It's all about Paula...

So I went to bed last night at 10pm for a couple of hours sleep before the women's marathon. The alarm went off and the boyf promptly turned over and went back to sleep. I struggled out of bed 10 minutes later, bleary eyed and switched on the TV. I curled up on the sofa with the dog but it all felt a bit surreal. I drifted in and out of sleep having some bizarre dreams. I don't think I actually saw very much of the race apart from the finish. The boyf was then very much awake shouting downstairs asking what was going on (he had the radio on in the bedroom).

We're not big Paula Radcliffe fans in this house by any means. She gets far too much attention (in our opinion). There always seems to be some tragic tale when she doesn't perform as expected. For example, you wouldn't have realised it from the Beeb's coverage but she wasn't the only Brit running in the women's marathon. Mara Yamauchi and Paula's fellow club mate Liz Yelling were also competing. Yamauchi came an impressive 6th - no-one mentioned that though did they? Poor old Liz took a nasty tumble but continued the race with a suspected cracked rib coming 26th (two places behind Paula) yet you didn't see her crying.

I'm not a total Paula hater, you can't deny she's a great runner, and I'm sure she doesn't want all the added pressure on her. However, it would be nice if the media gave greater recognition to other British runners.

Same old Spurs...

Yesterday was Super Saturday. A shed load of Olympics to watch and the return of the Premiership. It felt nice and warm to have the legendary and highly excitable Jeff Stelling back on Soccer Saturday. A predictable first game result for Spurs though. After the usual pre-season success we lost away from home. It's going to be a long season...

Run for your life!

My BFF Buffalou sent me a link to an interesting article on Marie Claire online this week about how running is the key to slowing the ageing process. Researchers from Stanford University compared a group of runners and non-runners who were all in their 50s when the research started. 20 years later 34% of the non-runners were dead compared to 15% of the runners. Runners not only have a healthier lifestyle in general but are less likely to die prematurely from cancer and other diseases. The researchers stated that "the health benefits of exercise are greater than we thought" and encouraged people to continue to exercise particularly as they got older. With that in mind I'm off out for a run...

Now THAT'S what I'm talking about!

If you didn't see it then you missed a historical moment in athletics this afternoon. It was my highlight of the Beijing 2008 Olympics - I'm not even sure if my man Phillips Idowu can top it!

The men's 100m was touted as this big three way battle between Asafa Powell (Jamaica), Tyson Gay (USA) and Usain 'Lightning' Bolt (Jamaica). I couldn't wait to watch it. Gay surprisingly didn't make it to the final making it a head to head between the two Jamaicans. Bolt had looked in amazing form in his heats and the semi. You could tell he was keeping some in the tank for later. Even so he wiped the floor with the rest of the contenders.

Then it was show time! Bolt looked unbelievably chilled. The rest of the athletes were in tracksuits and he just had on some baggy shorts like he was off to the beach. Then they were out of the blocks and there was no contest - Powell might as well not have turned up. Bolt took his foot off the accelerator 10m from the finish, appearing to just stroll over the line yet he still managed to break the World Record.

Sprinters usually have quite a lot of attitude but Bolt comes across as just a nice regular guy. He doesn't get much hassle in his homeland where the cult of celebrity is non-existent. There's an article about him in this month's Runner's World magazine. Whilst other athletes obsess about what they put in their bodies he clearly doesn't, loving nothing more than chowing down on a good bucket of KFC. His trainer can't even get him to take pills, supplements or shakes (unless it's probably a chocolate one from McDonalds). On an average day he has dumplings, yams and fried green bananas for breakfast. He celebrated breaking the last World Record by taking his entourage to McDonalds for burgers, nuggets and BBQ sauce. I wonder where he'll be eating tonight...

Game on!

The prospect of the London 2012 Olympics just gets better and better. Here in Essex we were due to host the cycling at Weald Country Park in Brentwood but the course wasn't seen as challenging enough and we thought 'game over'! Until this week that is when it was announced the cycling would now take place at Hadleigh Castle Country Park near Southend. Yay!!!

I am particularly excited about this as Hadleigh Castle holds special memories for me and my mum. We spent loads of time there counting its bricks and trying to guess what it looked like back in the day for a school project. This is one of her most cherished mother/daughter moments along with seeing me through music school, fluoride treatment and the trauma of terrible PMT/period pain (which she still has to put up with to this day!). She even bought me a picture of the castle a couple of years ago. Needless to say it's a must that we go and see the cycling there together. Game on!

We're on a road to nowhere...

My journey home from Portsmouth was not a good one. I should've heeded the early warning signs. I dropped Uncle Ken at Cosham station, mere minutes from the hospital, but even that wasn't straightforward. We had to queue on the approach road to wait for the level crossing barriers which went up and down like nobody's business. In the end Ken decided to bail out and walk the rest of the way.

The A3, even through the roadworks, was fairly pain free albeit a bit of a crawl at one stage but I was prepared to tolerate that. It was the road from hell, the orbital of doom, that broke me. And how cruel it was. The sign said 10 miles to the Dartford Crossing - a mental and visual sign that you're almost home. After all it's just like a pleasant trip home from Lakeside or Bluewater isn't it?

Over 2 hours later and I'm still sitting there. According to today's papers a protester (I won't give his campaign any more publicity than it's already had) scaled a gantry over the motorway at 7am causing 15 mile tail backs. He eventually climbed down at 4pm but the damage was done. I had no food or drink and no-one to talk to. Once through the tunnel the queue on the other side went all the way back to the A12 where I turned off for home.

And that's where the second problem occurred. I knew I might hit some V festival traffic (and to be honest it could've been a lot worse) but I was desp for the loo and just to get home. So what should've been a 2 and a half hour journey turned into almost 6 hours. I don't want to drive again for a while...

Yellow Food

I'm going home today - yay! Spent 6 days in Portsmouth and not seen any of the sights. It's almost like being in a band on tour (without the sex and the drugs or trashing the hotel room). It's just your hotel room and the venue. In this case a hospital where we sit in a Portakabin in between interviews.

It's been an extremely busy week but we've had a good team which has helped lift the mood when needed. The food has been the absolute worst though without a doubt! I've lived on jacket spuds and cheese (either grated or cottage) - yellow food! I'm craving vegetables and just something different and fresh. I couldn't face another meal last night so stayed in my room trying to wade through my mountain of write-ups till midnight.

I don't know what happens in this Premier Inn around 5 am but it's like they crank up the boiler ready for people to get washed. So needless to say I've been awake for some time now. Me and Uncle Ken have got the feedback presentation to deliver today then it's the drive home, hopefully not getting caught in a load of traffic on the M25 or A12 making their way to the V Festival.

Bye bye Pompey! Next stop Romford...

Wet and wild!

Urgh...it's only Wednesday yet I feel totally and utterly exhausted. I've set my alarm for 6 (a) so I can watch the Olympics and (b) because I have loads of interview notes to type up and certainly the ones from Monday don't make much sense to me now. I tried to knock them out last night after dinner but they take an age. After an agonisingly slow 2 hours with my eyes and brain giving up the game I went to bed.

Yesterday it was totally wet and wild here as I think it was elsewhere in the country. I had planned to go for a run before work but was not equipped for the torrential rain outside. It continued at regular intervals throughout the day interspersed with deceivingly clear bright blue skies. We all got soaked at some stage. I had to drive to a different hospital site to interview someone fairly senior in the organisation. I walked into her office 15 minutes late looking like a cross between a drowned street urchin and a Miss Wet T-shirt entrant. It was not a good look.

I did manage a run before dinner, my first in a week. I took a short, fairly scenic route down to Port Solent. It was a huge effort though, particularly running into the wind which was like having elastic bands round your ankles trying to ping you back.

Of course all this exertion requires the right kind of fuel and we're definitely not getting that on these visits. The more you think about it we're taking in utter rubbish - even stuff that you think is healthy such as the porridge at breakfast. Whilst it may look like a pavement pizza, it does taste good and is advertised as a fresh low fat option. Yesterday we discovered that it actually comes pre-packed and frozen - all they do is warm it up and somehow even that can go wrong. We're not even sure what's in it. It seems that toast is probably the safest option.

At lunch I circuited the canteen several times, weighed down with my bags, in search of sustenance. This was to the great amusement of B who I didn't realise was watching me from afar. The hot dishes just look totally unappetising. They tend to have a standard red cheesy slop appearance. Vegetable Moussaka looks exactly the same as Vegetable Lasagne. So I opted yet again for a jacket spud...which was rock hard.

Things did improve slightly last night as we ventured over to the flash tower block Purple Palace opposite us. Their restaurant was a distinct improvement. Modern surroundings and a better standard of reheated food...we were begging them to let us transfer across but there was no room at the inn.

Oh well breakfast in an hour and 10...

Olympic Fever - Nicole gets gold!

I'm loving the Olympics. Me and the boyf had our own intimate opening ceremony party for 2 on Friday night. It just makes you wonder how on earth we are ever going to compete in 2012. We couldn't even do decent fireworks for the Millennium...

I'm loving the coverage from the Beeb although I'm soooo not loving Sharon Davies. Don't get me wrong she has this fabulous Amazonian to-die-for body but I'm convinced she's had fillers in her cheeks and she's showing way too much flesh. She's also coming across as a bit too opinionated telling team GB swimmers where they went wrong and what they should do next time - as if that's what you want to hear as you're being interviewed live to the nation and you're feeling totally shit about your performance.

I loved Nicole Cooke winning gold in the women's road endurance cycling race but am disappointed (and frankly bored) with the whole Tom Daley child prodigy diving thing. His 'partner' in the synchronised dive has slated him completely for them coming last today. Grow up mate! Move on! This isn't doing you any favours. Ever heard of the Olympic spirit?

Pompey's Poor Relation...

It was touted as the day from hell - almost the amount of interviews we'd usually do in 4 days condensed into one. However it went fine and there was no need for Red Bull, just an emergency trip to the hospital pharmacy to buy some double strength Ibuprofen (I've had a headache for 2 days).

The journey last night was straightforward even in torrential rain. I was expecting major congestion caused by despondent Pompey fans after their defeat in the Community Shield but I only passed one or two scarf bearing cars.

I had perhaps unrealistically high expectations that we would be staying in Sandbanks this week. That we'd be holed up in a Premier Inn in a marina location with beautiful vistas of tranquil waters and the weather would be balmy. In reality it's another retail/business park which is home to the usual Tesco Extra, KFC, Pizza Hut and it's been overcast and grey.

In terms of accommodation we're like the poor relation. On one side we're overlooked by a superior Marriott. To the other is a new, tower block style modern Premier Inn. For some reason we're in an old school 'value' version. The consensus is it definitely ranks in our bottom 3. As does the food. We've had a vile meal in the Beefeater next door. It started promising for me with butternut squash soup followed by couscous salad. The latter was drenched in vinaigrette and offered little in terms of couscous but copious amounts of red onion. In the end I was forced to eat a chocolate brownie ice cream sunday to get rid of the taste. Not a good start to the week...

P.S The reason for the picture of the crazy Pompey fan? I'm hoping to bump into him this week!

Papermill Lock

To all you Essex haters who think we're nuffin' but huge retail parks and cheap seafront, come and visit Papermill Lock (www.papermilllock.co.uk). Just 10 minutes away from Chelmsford, this gorgeous piece of waterway is like something straight out of Rosie and Jim. We had a lovely walk there this morning culminating in a fab piece of homemade cake at the tea rooms.

Here I go again on my own!

Another day, another hospital... This morning I visited the most modern hospital I have seen yet. It was more like a shopping mall. No smell of disinfectant here! It had a grand piano in the entrance and a lovely funky coffee shop offering amazing goodies. What a great place to work or be sick!

As usual there were big signs informing patients, visitors and staff alike that smoking was not allowed anywhere on the hospital site. I wish I had a camera with me as there were hordes of ‘puffers’ right outside the main entrance blatantly breaking the rules.

Parking is another hospital bugbear. In line with its modern build there was a multi-storey car park. Bonus! You paid on exit and luckily our meeting finished just in time to make the 3 hour cut off. Or so I thought… I stood behind a man trying to feed the parking machine with the contents of his ‘change’ jar. As the machine didn’t accept 5ps I offered him 2 x 20p to speed up the process. This then sent me over into the 3 – 6 hour bracket meaning I had to cough up £3.20 instead of £1.60… I’m sure I was at least 2 minutes within the earlier time slot so it’s all just a con anyway.

After leaving London I headed off up the motorway to the Midlands. I don’t often travel these distances alone so it was a bit of a novelty. I decided to stop en route at Newport Pagnell services as it was just over half way and I knew them to be a ‘nice’ Welcome Break. Well they’ve deteriorated, not to quite the extent of having rats in the car park like the M6 Toll Services, but unless you wanted to consume a greasy bucket of fried chicken or a whopper then you were a bit restricted food wise. I opted for a trusty cheese and marmite toastie with a cup of White Tea and regretted not stopping at the earlier services which had offered M&S quality…this was made even worse once I ventured back onto the M1 and passed not one, but two service stations with Costa Coffees. This included the famous Watford Gap services which I always thought were ‘not all that’. Noted for future reference!

I arrived at my final destination to find there was no room for me at the Inn. They’d only got one booked for B. Luckily they weren’t full so I’m in. No biscuits though! And no life-size cardboard cut out of Lenny Henry. Maybe someone’s already stolen it.

Whilst we’ve not stayed at this Purple Palace, me and B have stayed at this Junction off the M6 before in more salubrious surroundings across the road at a Hilton. I vividly remember taking my life into my hands to cross 6 lanes of traffic to get to the 24/7 Tesco. I’ve just been there for some emergency chocolate and cash.

In addition to the Tesco mega store the 'business' park has a bowling alley, 14 screen cinema, Nandos, Burger King, Pizza Hut and Taybarns which is next door. Now I've never heard of the place before but it's an all you can eat buffet gaff which offers everything from pizza/pasta to grills to chow mein and profiteroles all for under a tenner. I don't know why I think it sounds a bit upset stomach inducing. I will reserve my judgement until after I've had my dinner!

Yaaaaaaawwwwwwwwnnnn!

The BBC ran a fab piece on their website yesterday about some new scientific research which claims that yawning is contagious between humans and dogs. This copying activity suggests that dogs are capable of empathising with us humans. It was previously thought only humans and their close primate relatives found yawning contagious.

In tests a human stranger would say the dog's name, make eye contact and then yawn. The dog would respond by yawning back. Sadly we tried it numerous times with Flyn last night and nothing. He usually does some fantastic really loud stretchy yawns but when we attempted to get him to do it on demand he stubbornly refused. He’s clever that dog! And the research is obviously flawed!

It's like thunder! Lightning!

The weather yesterday was extremely clammy so it was no surprise that we had some major thunderstorms last night. Whilst this offered us humans some welcome respite from the humidity and a spectacular light show, it didn’t go down so well with Flyn the Wonder Dog. He doesn’t like anything that goes bang whether that’s motorbikes, fireworks or indeed thunder. So cue some hilarious behaviour as he cowered under a small table, in the cupboard under the stairs on top of a pile of carrier bags and old curtains and then eventually fell asleep on the boyf’s boots on a shelf in our bedroom cupboard. I really wanted to take some pictures because he looked so funny but it felt very cruel as poor thing was clearly petrified.

I woke up in the night to find him trying to climb the walls via my bedside cabinet and then promptly jump onto the boyf’s head as some thunder rumbled in the distance. We told him to get off and then didn’t see him again until the morning so he must’ve found a good hiding place somewhere.

You call that running?!

Facebook has a great application called Runlogger. You can log your distance and times and compare yourself to other runners across the world.

I started logging my miles on 17 September 2007, so just under a year ago. Today I logged my 200th mile. Instead of cracking open the bubbly and treating myself to a new pair of trainers, I hung my head in complete shame. 200 miles might sound great, but if you average that out it’s a pathetic 4.33 miles a week….a distance I can easily cover in one outing. Compare this to Dan Pickering, our only entry in the Men’s Marathon in Beijing, who has been racking up an average weekly mileage of 130 in preparation for the Games.

So these bare facts just highlight to me that I’m an extremely inconsistent trainer going weeks, sometimes a month, without running at all. I hope to knock out my next 200 in half the time. Watch this space!

Dunk me!

I’ve become addicted to soft boiled eggs. I’m usually a scrambled only kind of girl and even then no-one quite makes it like my mum.

I discovered my love for the boiled variety on holiday as it was the focal point of the traditional Turkish breakfast. The egg tended to be hard boiled so scant chance of a dunk.

After an initial disastrous attempt to replicate this at home (I blame Delia entirely for faulty timings) I’m now becoming a bit of a dab hand. Yum!

Fat is not fun...

In fact it's just plain miserable. Today's Sun features a big splash on Britain's fattest teenager - a 15 year old girl who weighs 33 stone. Her vital stats make staggering reading. She's a size 38. Has a BMI of 74 - anything over 35 is seriously obese so you do the math. A whopping calorie intake of 13,538 a day...what she should be eating is 2,000. Her boobs are a humongous 64D and she has a 64 inch waist and 74 inch thighs. Due to her size she can't get in the bath and sleeps on a low futon as she has to kneel before she can stand up. She often falls down the stairs at home as her left leg has a tendency to give way.

This teenager, who should have her whole life ahead of her, has been told to lose 20 stone or she will die. Health chiefs have told her she's too young for gastric band surgery, slimming pills or gym membership so instead they're sending her to a fitness and weight loss boarding school in the States (home of the King size portion) for 6 months.

It just makes me so sad. She says she sought solace in food after the death of her Dad. Whereas her mum feels she is to blame and if you look at the picture of the pair of them you can see why. She too has gone from a flabalicious 31 stone to 20 so she's not got a good role model. Apparently even as a baby she wouldn't eat normal foods - spitting out baby food which was then substituted for tinned potatoes. She wouldn't have normal milk so instead had condensed. At Easter she ate 7 large chocolate eggs (now that's normal!).

I hope for her sake that she loses the weight - I really do. Maybe instead of 'treating' her by sending her to the States (which to me seems a bit short termist), her and her mum could be re-educated about food and get out in the fresh air and do some exercise together. Otherwise when she gets back from the States she'll just slip back into old habits and die before she reaches 21. Tragic.

Watch out, crazee old ladies about!

At what age do you make the cross over from reasonably sane adult into a totally dotty geriatric who does bizarre things? There are two old ladies that ‘cruise’ our local park. I don’t know what their ‘line’ is. I assume they are getting some fresh air and keeping fit but they do so in a very strange way. They like to pick up dogs. Not in a genial "morning, what a lovely dog you have, can I stroke him" manner but in a really creepy lecherous fashion…. almost like they’ve got a big net and a van waiting round the corner to make off with your prized pooch.

Me and Flyn the Wonder Dog have encountered the doggy duo on numerous occasions. They come armed with bum bags full of treats and offer up lines like “you know you want it”. The boyf bumped into them this week for the first time. The ladies said “oooh he knows us – we’ve fed him before, your wife usually walks him doesn’t she?” Out came the treats which Flyn promptly spat out. They aren’t Pedigree quality…they always look a bit manky and I’m never sure if they’re spiked with something.

This morning we spied one of the old ladies from a distance. She was flying solo and suddenly headed off into the bushes dividing the park from the local fruit farm. I wasn’t sure if she was suffering some dementia induced ramble or desperately needed to relieve herself. Flyn wanted to follow her but I stopped him. Then round the corner came her partner, Evil Edna. Flyn goes straight up to her ignoring this beautiful young female Westie who was trying to say hello to him. He should’ve been jumping the hot bitch (she was on heat). Instead he bared his teeth and demanded one of Edna’s vile rust coloured treat sticks before promptly walking off chomping as I said called out a hurried "thank you". She didn’t even get so much as a stroke…

As for the crazee in the bushes I don't know what was going on there. Maybe she was waiting to surprise Edna by jumping out and shouting a big fat "boo"!