The fourth instalment in a series in which I answer the ongoing question “How do you fit it all in?”, which people ask me when I tell them what I do. Continue reading “How Do You Fit It All In? #4”
The third instalment in an ongoing series which was born of me not wanting to keep dealing with people’s incredulous looks when I tell them what I do. Continue reading “How Do You Fit It All In? #3”
…because this is how these things go. One day I’m swimming for three quarters of an hour, pounding laps up and down the pool, walking home in the light mist of rain under the orange glow of the street lamps, climbing the stairs to my flat, winding down with a book for the evening, getting into bed feeling almost well.
And then the next day I wake up and my ribs are aching and I taste blood in the back of my throat, and it feels like there is acid coursing through my veins. On the way up the stairs from my bedroom I stumble into the wall and have to rest there for a moment, because seven steps is just too many to be able to climb in one go. I try to work, of course, because I am me and that is what I do, but ultimately I have to admit defeat and pull a blanket around my shivering skin and curl up on the sofa.
Finally, things are starting to stabilise. Rather than having no energy at all, I have a teensy bit of energy, which lets me do about one thing requiring exertion per day, unless I am having a Particularly Bad Day, in which case no things are done.
That’s much better than being able to do one thing per week, though.
The doctors have said I can try doing a bit of exercise again, and as someone who normally swims every day, the fact that they recommended swimming was highly pleasing.
I love swimming. I also love books. So when I was asked whether I wanted a review copy of Turning, Jessica J. Lee’s memoir of a year swimming in lakes around Germany, I of course said yes.
It’s always a bit weird reviewing a memoir. How do you review someone’s feelings?
You don’t, of course. You review how they presented them to you.
I can’t believe 2015 is nearly over. The year has flown past so quickly, probably due at least in part to the fact that I’ve been out of the country so much. There were a couple of periods where I’d fly somewhere, fly home, dump my stuff, pick up the next round of stuff, and leave immediately. There was a point when I flew from Barcelona to Birmingham with a four-hour stopover in my own house.
Inspired by several of the travel bloggers I follow, I thought I’d do a round-up of my salient travel moments this year. Some good, some bad: all ones that I don’t think I’ll forget in a hurry.