This One's for Tim

Tim in Fiesole - our 30th wedding anniversary It's now over seven months since I took part in the desert trek and, still, when I think of that time I smile. I can't quite remember the physical difficulty of walking in such intense heat, or how the smell of the portaloos made me retch. What I do remember is the laughter, the smiles, the comradeship. I set out to raise money by punishing myself. Well, I certainly did that. What I didn't expect is that I would make new friends, that I would sign up for other challenges, that I am strong. When Tim was diagnosed with a brain tumour, a few people told me I was brave. When he passed away, it seemed to be the thing to say. I didn't know how to respond. I wasn't being brave at all. What do you do when a loved one needs you? It's not bravery that makes you stay. It's love. You have no choice but to go on. I didn't warrant or deserve to be called brave . I was scared, terrified. I can't tell you how the anxiety...

Monday, 4th April: We were woken in the early hours by barking and howling. Some of us thought they were dogs, others thought they were wolves. It was disturbing. The sounds grew close, and the darkness combined with the lack of sleep made the fear almost suffocating. I swallowed it down. This was an organised trek and we had experienced guides who knew what to do. The dogs or wolves passed by, their calling now fading and I drifted back to sleep, only to be woken minutes later by what sounded like a huge unoiled engine. It was a donkey. And we would grow to learn that this donkey got excited whenever it met other donkeys, its enthusiasm erupting with an ee-aw that drowned out anything else. It's exuberance couldn't help but make you smile..... except at three o'clock in the morning! Theo called us to wake up just before sunrise and bleary-eyed I heard the sounds of zips as we all emerged from our tents. Breakfast was a glorious affair of breads, boiled eggs, fava beans, y...

Saturday, 2nd April and Sunday, 3rd April: I awoke early, apprehension gone. There was no time now for 'what-ifs' or for bailing out. T-Day was here, and I was on my way. The drive to Heathrow was smooth and I met a group of other early birds at Costa. We bonded from the start, nerves covered by laughter and excitement. The plane journey was only five hours, but Jordan is two hours ahead of UK time, so we arrived a little after midnight. Queen Alia International Airport was quiet and small. We had a 'fixer' who moved us along, took our passports to be verified and then on to the coach. The air was warm and still. We met Theo, our guide who works for Dream Challenges . He is Dutch but has lived in Jordan since the nineties and he was the man who would lead us, push us on, and wake us in the morning. He was the man we depended on to get us through. Although at that time, we didn't realise how much we would rely on him, how much we had to trust him. The coach drive wa...

This time tomorrow I'll be on the plane, jetting off to Amman. I'll have met my fellow trekkers (although I feel I know so many of them because of our Facebook and WhatsApp groups). I'm sure that worries will be overshadowed by excitement. But ultimately, this trek is to raise money for the cancer charity of our choice. Each participant will have their own reason for taking on the trek. Each person will have someone close to their heart driving them to do this. I am no different. You all know why I'm here. And I'm feeling wobbly. Tearful. On Tuesday it was three years since Tim passed away. Tom Parker of The  Wanted  passed away on Wednesday; he was just thirty-three years old. This month is brain cancer awareness month. I am proud to have raised so much money for The Brain Tumour Charity . But most of all, I am proud of all of you who have given up your hard earned cash and put your faith in me. During the training, faith in myself has wavered, but yours hasn't...

It's been a challenging week: mud, mud, and more mud. But I can honestly say that Suffolk mud is not a patch on Essex mud (which is really clay - well, they make bricks out of it). But instead of squelching deeply into brown, sticky stuff, I've slipped and slided my way across fields - and even landed on my bottom. Oh, what larks! Today the mud's drying out - I even ventured out this morning in hiking shoes rather than hiking boots or wellies. But I did manage to trip on a bramble branch and projectile launched landing on my knees and hands. I haven't done that for a while - Tim used to huff at me as it used to happen so often. So I had to walk home with muddy knees feeling like a complete fool. I think the people around here are getting to know me...... This morning I've got a Nordic Walking class which I'm really looking forward to. I've sponged the mud off my walking trousers so hopefully no-one will know about the earlier incident! And now we have just t...

I'm back in Blighty with my walking boots on and my trusty training partner by my side (well, she's never really by my side as she dawdles to sniff out interesting things and then races past me at super speed). After the sunshine and warmth of Southern California it was surprisi ngly difficult to head out into the chilly wind. What's happened to me? Am I becoming soft in my old age? I'm the woman who loves the wind and the rain.... or have I been kidding myself? I like to think that I'm simply acclimatising for Jordan and that once the trek is over, I'll be back to searching out bad weather and wallowing around in it. With only four-and-a-half weeks to go, I've also been accumulating my kit. The kids kindly came with me on a shopping expedition which was incredibly helpful - they really were on a mission to have me kitted out. I'm not a great shopper and become bored after half-an-hour. It's testament to their commitment that we were in the shop for ...

There are only six weeks to go and I've reached 91% of my fundraising target! Thank you so, so much all you lovely supporters. Training's on hold at the moment as I'm away from chilly Blighty, visiting Mum in sunny California. Even 6,000 miles away from home I miss Tim. I suppose that ache will never go away. I've got a song in my head that won't go away: If I had words to make a day for you . I sang it to Tim on our last Valentine's Day and I meant every word. If I could've made a day that lasted for all-time I would've done it. I'd have done anything to keep him here. I would have given my life. But I'm not unusual - that's what love is, after all. And I'm so lucky to have had a love that strong. Lovely friends and supporters, hang on to those you love. Make each day special. Try to live every day with love, with all your heart. Hold on to it with all your might. It is the most precious thing we have. Jane Lomas is fundraising for The B...

  It's been a busy week. With only just over ten weeks to go, the pressure's ramping up. Training's going well. I'm not quite where I want to be but as it took so long to get over the chest infection I'm trying not to be too hard on myself. As well as walking longer distances I joined a class last weekend learning how to Nordic Walk. What a revelation it was! Done properly (and I'm still trying to refine the technique!) it burns more calories than normal walking and uses many more muscles - especially upper body. I had a super time as well as feeling as if I'd done a work out. My class mates were great fun and the instructor was wonderful. So much so, I've signed up to weekly classes. No, I won't be Nordic Walking in the desert, but I've learned better posture and how to walk more efficiently which can only help.  A lovely surprise is that the instructor and a couple of people from the class have donated to my fundraiser - so now I'm up to 86...

This Christmas has been hard. The hardest since Tim died. I'd thought it would get easier but somehow everything crashed down this year. On Boxing Day I couldn't get out of the chair and since then I've days when I've functioned (and even laughed) but days when I haven't been able to get out of bed. Perhaps it's remembering his last Christmas when he was bone-achingly tired. When he seemed vulnerable. Something in him had shifted. On 4th January we knew why - a brain tumour. But we still had hope at that point. We thought it might not be too bad, that it could be removed. It would take a couple of weeks before we learned the truth. Little did we know that we would be planning his funeral in less than three months. It's hard to say, but I've been right on the edge, these last few weeks. Weighing up if my life's worth it. If I want to face God-knows how many more years ahead. Alone. Lonely. Missing Tim. I feel selfish writing this. Tim would be so cros...

Last night I began watching the latest series of the crime drama, Shetland . I’m late to it, I know. I was full of excitement when it came out but I couldn’t watch it. Not until now. As many of you know, I found solace in Shetland after Tim died. The landscape and the people helped me to heal. Helped me to learn how to breathe again. Helped me to see that happiness might be possible again. Although Tim and I had n ever visited Shetland (well, he’d had an emergency overnight stay there once – he’d been taken off an oil rig but it was too foggy for the helicopter to make it back to the mainland. He told me he was in a hotel, miles away from anywhere, and the sun didn’t set until after ten o’clock), I was drawn to it. Instinctively I knew that I had to be there. Perhaps Tim’s memory had lodged itself deep in my mind, I’m not sure. But I didn’t remember his story until I was in Shetland and I drove past a sign for St Magnus Bay. Magnus had been the name of an oil rig he’d worked on sev...

I'm almost at the end of my three weeks in the Lake District. It was to be part holiday, part writing but most importantly..... trek training. The first week went well. I was testing out my toes, making sure they were broken in gently. I had odd bouts of discomfort but on the whole I managed. I'm learning how to alleviate the twinges before they turn to pain. Realising how different terrain creates different pressure which leads to toe trouble. I've even discovered that 'hiking' socks don't work for me - they're too thick and bulky. My Fitbit was ecstatic! It's never seen so much movement. And it was really encouraging to sit back with a hot chocolate at the end of the day and see how many steps I'd done. Yay! for the Lake District. Bring it on, week two. Well. On week two I started with a bit of a cold. Nothing to worry about. This week I'd planned to take  on two longer treks and if I could manage my toes, a sniffle wasn't going to stop me....

  I've been quiet. Too afraid to carry on fundraising as I've had some problems with my feet. Well, my toes to be exact. It turns out I've got something called Morton's neuroma which is my own fault for wearing high heels with pointy toes when I was younger. To be honest, my mum probably told me I shouldn't and I'm sure I ignored her. After all, who cares about saving your feet for when you're in your fifties when you can be cramming them in to all sorts of shiny, heely things to go dancing (and, gosh, how I loved dancing). Anyway, I've had a steroid injection in one of the toes which stopped the pain for a couple of months. I've bought the widest fitting hiking boots known to mankind (just call me Boaty MacBoat Feet as I look like I have flippers on). I've been very careful to avoid any footwear that pinches. I've done everything I can. And now I'm in the Lake District for training (well, it's a holiday really but I'm justifying ...

One of the lovely ladies on the trek in April next year found a video on YouTube by Russell Morgan Davies who took part in the trek in April 2015 . It's been really helpful to see what people wear (we have a kit list but we're obsessing on it just ever so slightly) and what we might expect. I am now excited and terrified in equal measures. I am not a person known for bravery. Nursing lovely daughter, and then Tim were the hardest and scariest things I've ever had to do in my life. And I figure that nothing will come close to that, so what am I scared of? Here are my top five lists of good things and not so good things: Good things list : Sheep (oh, they are just adorable). Donkeys (I might have to smuggle one home). Beetles (I love the little critters - especially the shiny ones). Portaloos at least at one of the camps (another lady on the trek and I have been a bit anxious about the loo situation). Wow! That architecture (and a jolly good party at the end). Not so good thi...

Something's woken me. Something stirring in the back of my mind. I reach across the bed, gently, softly, not wanting to wake him but needing to feel his skin. Rest my hand on his chest and count with the rise and fall to lull me back to sleep. I jolt awake. Insomnia. I'm used to it. But in these early hours it's different. I make tea and toast knowing that sleep has drifted away. I come back to bed and turn on my little radio - my saviour when the night is too big. And on comes Lord of the Dance  - one of our wedding songs. And it feels so right. For today, is our wedding anniversary. I'm sure I was awake at this hour thirty-six years ago, filled with excitement. My parents' house swelled with relatives and I was spending my last night in my little box room. I was twenty-two years old and I was soon to walk down the aisle and begin a new life. But before that there was a frantic day filled with picking up the wedding cake, the hair salon, laughing with parents, brot...

When I signed up for this trek I knew I'd have to face several obstacles: losing weight, getting fit, the heat, hills..... Never in my imaginings did I think that my feet might be a problem. They are the things that are getting me there. They are the things on which everything rests. They are not supposed to be tripping me up. But they are. I've had toe discomfort on and off for the last few years but nothing to worry about. In Shetland it would sometimes play up but I put it down to my sturdy boots being too, well, sturdy. So I've been doing my training in my old faithfuls which I finally had to throw away as they were ripped, let water in, and then the soles began to flap around. Never mind , I thought. I can buy some new boots fit for the trek.  I was feeling a bit smug - a reason to spend some money, and bought nice and early to break in. Pride, they say, comes before a fall. Mrs Smug has now been replaced by Mrs Pie in the Face. My toe issue is back and it's excruc...

We're nearing the end of brain tumour awareness month and, to be honest, it all feels a bit raw. For today, it's two years since Tim died. It's been a tough month. Training has been slow. My writing's felt wooden. I've suffered from insomnia and managed on nights of four hours' sleep. Needless to say comfort eating has returned, shaking hands, racing heart and all the other things that go with grief and anxiety. But I'm determined to get back up again. I'm better than this time last year. At least I've managed some walks - not as many as I'd scheduled and my longest only seven miles - but it's a start. I'll get back on the diet as I know I feel better for it. And I'll try to shrug off March and make a note for next year not to plan too much because it might be a tricky month. I'm looking forward. Trying not to look back. This time next year I'll be fit enough for the trek. My new hiking boots will be worn in and my supplies at...

Training has begun! I had the dreaded weigh-in and measurements on Sunday and it was as bad as I thought. I have a lot to do to get in shape for the trek: Day 1 - travel from London to Amman (the capital of Jordan), then to the Dead Sea. Day 2 - walking for roughly 2.5 hours (4-5 km) Day 3 - walking for roughly 8 hours (16 km) Day 4 - walking for roughly 8 hours (18 km) Day 5 - walking for roughly 6.5 hours (10 km) Day 6 - walking for roughly 6 hours ( 6km) Days 7-8 - sightseeing at Petra and Wadi Rum with a farewell dinner before heading home. Dream Challenges has provided a training plan which they recommend you start six months before the trek. How wonderful - I hear you cry. Yes, it is rather wonderful but it looks pretty intense and I think you need to be fairly fit before starting it. I am middle-aged, fat, and very unfit. For the last two years I have used food as a crutch. I have a lot to achieve if I'm going to be ready for the trek. So it's walking, healthy eating ( ...