Lets not try to over-egg the pudding. After all I’m not attempting to pull a sled to the South Pole, run an ultra-marathon in the Sahara or disappear off to Afghanistan to defuse IEDs. But with less than 4 weeks before I start, I reckon I am just beginning to get a small insight into the psychological stresses generated at home when more adventurous people than I will ever be prepare for expeditions or long tours of duty abroad.

My life has become dominated by this little project and my preoccupation is probably more of a trial to those who are close to me. I suspect that Kate can’t wait to see the back of me, my obsession and my growing selfish sensitivity and irritation to any words of doubt or upset at my impending absence. But I also suspect that I am going to miss the family and comforts of home much more than my family think I will.

Despite some enlightened listening to Radio 4’s ‘Woman’s Hour’ as I walk, I now find the training boring, repetitive and yet strangely addictive. I get restless and ratty when I take a day off and I worry incessantly about how the family will thrive. Equally strangely, I now worry much less than I did about  logistical coordination and I am quietly confident that if and when the plan slips I will find a way to make it work. But then I worry that this little project will eat into the old finances more than it should and probably ruin the chances of returning to the remnants of a career afterwards.

I am now more than just itching to get going. I need to be out there.  Yet I am becoming increasingly terrified of what I might have let myself in for. I fear embarrassment through failure of any kind, but I fear injury and not capability. I realistically understand that there isn’t much I can do if injury strikes with real consequence and that minor injuries and fatigue are going to take their toll. But…. Hey! It’s only a bloody walk!  So stop being a woose, and just get on with it Hilly!

N.B. Due to the persistent inclement weather….Item for shopping list:    WADERS!!!

This might be a cynical tactic, but I wonder whether this picture will soften the hearts of potential corporate supporters enough for them to help me with some of my costs?

Methinks that 63 miles in three days and a good bath might be a tad much for my training partners. Though I might add that Willow the cat didn’t even come. Introducing Bramble (left) and Bracken!

Seeking support for some of my expenses continues to prove depressingly tough. It’s essentially a process of getting repeatedly ignored or fended off by a shield of Corporate Responsibility Managers who tuck themselves behind a single nominated charity and / or ‘Corporate Policy’.

Now please don’t get me wrong. I am fully aware that in not being a high-profile celebrity or elite athlete with the prospect of prime-time publicity or a TV series of my venture I am unlikely to be able to give a corporate sponsor the return they really seek  (though I will try, promise). I also fully understand any genuine reasoning due to lack of a budget. In my old business world I was quite adept at having to explain away unexpected and sometimes chunky over-spends. Nevertheless, budget restrictions were still a genuine reason I had to use on many occasions. So if you can help – please get in touch. I have a real desire not to be bankrupt by the end of this project and could do with help for the following: Fuel and gas (est. £3,000), basic food and provisions (est. £4,200), boots and kit (est. £1,000), insurance for the motorhome and free stopovers with facilities for the odd bath, laundry and occasional comfy bed.

In chasing support, I have to say that the generosity of smaller organisations and individuals is much more encouraging. Any support, whether large or small, is something that raises a big fat cheesy grin and an excited skip to my step every time. Whether it is the generosity of a complete stranger, or that of a friend or old business contact, my motivation takes a little leap forward with every act of kindness. As a small return to their investment, all of my business supporters to date have a deserved page of their own.

Now then….  Much more importantly than any of my bleating above, I have just opened a Virgin Money Giving page to accept all donations to the SIA and MSNTC. This can also be accessed via my Donations page and will remain live for the next 12 months. So please have a little dig in your wallet, purse or pocket and see if you can’t cough up loads of your hard-earned, begged, freshly laundered or inherited cash and give it to two excellent causes. The more you give, the fewer excuses I have to give up. So go on – make me suffer!

In other news: Mud, miles, mud, miles, family colds sniffling and coughing all around me, more mud, a few more miles….errr….that’s it really!

With another week completed, the training total now exceeds 800 miles and I have apparently ascended Everest twice – though I have yet to suffer from altitude sickness or frostbite in the Vale of Belvoir. Oops – is that fate I’ve just tempted again??? Anyway I hope nobody minds if I admit to being a little chuffed at having put 102 miles on the training clock this week as well as taking some time to acquire a motorhome.

For the record, it also happens to be my first ever century. Yes, I might have been a reasonably keen cricketer who played at club level for over 30 years, but for most of those years I was a swing bowler who in later years and after a knee operation, bizarrely converted to a 2nd XI lower-order batsman and wicket-keeper. I might have scored a good hand-full of 50’s but only on the rare occasion when I was coerced into opening the innings when the team was short-handed and believe me – that was rare.  So this walking ton does have a rather nice feeling about it even if I am aware that I need to exceed the feat every single week for 10 months if I am to complete 5,000 miles and be home for Christmas. And – by the way – my best sporting feat was never on a cricket square anyway. It was in a marathon canoe race….but that’s another story.

So, yes, the Blunder Bus is on order from a top man who could not have been more helpful – thanks Ian. All it needs now is insuring, collecting, equipping and understanding. Oh ….and yes – it needs a name. Kate has  suggested ‘Bella’ but I’d like to open this a little wider and invite suggestions. All are welcome and for trivial reasons I will put the best, filtered for cleanliness, up for an online vote.

To finish for today – I’d like to thank prospective support driver Simon and the friendly members of the Grimsby Fell Walking and Climbing Club who I joined for a stroll around the nether regions of Charnwood Forest today. Though Simon and I have worked for the same company for over 20 years, we’d never met. So when he rashly responded to a work intranet article and volunteered for three weeks in my company, I thought it wise that he complete a ‘prat check’.  Well it seems I passed – as he’s inked into my schedule now.  Today made a refreshing change to my usual walks and I don’t think I was being overly generous in sharing out some of my local mud and frivolous conversation with people and not sheep.

Before Christmas I tempted fate with the weather. Since then, the wind and rain have outperformed themselves with the worst set of storms for 20 years. Conclusion – I’m NOT tempting fate EVER again! If I carry on like this I will undoubtedly have to replace a washing machine clogged with mud and explore whether I can grow Gore-Tex as a second skin.

Positively, I completed 95 more miles (700 miles in all so far) and have successfully worn in another pair of boots. The driver support is also coming along nicely (though there are still plenty of gaps to fill…hint hint) and I am rediscovering friends I haven’t spoken to for many years. I am also delightfully surprised by the generosity and kindness of complete strangers. Having scoured the internet for a suitable motorhome I think I may have found one and the seller (you know who you are – Ian) is proving extremely helpful and generous.  All things being equal,  my Blunder Bus is on its way, especially if someone can help finance it for me. Which brings me neatly to…. my hunt for sponsors, which is now becoming a priority.

I am acutely aware that this project and the accompanying logistics could prove very expensive and seriously damaging to my personal finances. So, I am hoping – and not expecting – to attract some business sponsors to help me with some of the costs, be it a motorhome, fuel, gas, insurance, provisions, kit,  stopovers or even – he said with a vague hope – the lot. I’m more than happy to help any sponsor get a return, be it in the form of decals on a bus touring the entire coast, thanks and prominence in this website (1400 hits already) and talks or presentations when available. I am also aware that the charities want to do numerous press releases on the way round, though I am resisting this in the early days as I fear tempting fate along with the accompanying utter embarrassment if I were to break my leg ten minutes after setting off.

I know it’s not easy. I too have been on the other end of begging phone calls and emails. It was only a few months ago that I had control of a chunky budget. Though if the truth be known, my former bosses would probably say that my methods of obtaining (blagging) capital money were a tad sporting and that I was well versed at finding legitimate reasons for an operating budget overspend. However, if I had a call or email from a worthy cause or project, I’d like to think that I at least replied even if I couldn’t find a hole in my budget.

I also hope you don’t mind if I also bore you with a little addendum today.  In my wandering muses I have to admit that I’m a little dismayed at the sounds of the countryside at this time of year. Apart from the occasional far-carrying pheasant crow and the distant plaintive mewing of a buzzard, the only other sounds not drowned out by the incessant wind are the regular paired cracks of shotgun fire.

Now I don’t see myself as a born again eco-warrier. I accept killing to eat, be it fish or game and I also accept that sometimes animals need to be controlled, particularly when they are a genuine threat to livestock. But I do find it a little disturbing in this modern age to see and hear killing purely for the fun of it. When I asked one fatigues clad loner unloading his shotgun from the rear of his 4×4 pick-up the other day what he was hunting the reply was “squirrels”.  When asked a simple “Why?” he responded with a clueless shrug and I just walked on.   Later the same day another 4×4 drove past me on a bridleway and the two occupants barely acknowledged my existence. As I peeked into the back of their truck I spotted the carcass of a freshly shot fallow deer. I’d only ever spotted one fallow deer locally and it was becoming almost tame with familiarity. I’ve not seen it since.