The Walking Fool

I've now officially failed on the 'Walk the Taff Trail Every Day For Seven Days' challenge I set myself.
I did it every day until today - and yesterday, with the Trail and other walking, I topped out at 9.7 miles in the day. But, by the time I got to bed, my feet were two big flippers of pain. So this morning - notsomuch with the walking, or in very great measure, the moving about. I ended up going to Cardiff with d, and, when we could have got a train back in time for me to cut my feet further into ribbon steak, she told me to be sensible.

Sensible won out. What the Nazi Scales say in the morning is pretty much up to them. I've done what I could do this week - in the last four days, I've walked over 35 miles. Have I eaten well? Up to today, yes. Today, we had lunch at Jamie's, which involved both bread and pasta, and in my case, some frozen yoghurt - yes, dessert of a kind, but again, I'm testing the Aristotelian principle, and this time, generally I'm winning.

I also have ended the day without getting on the bike, so ultimately, today's been a higher-than-normal food day, and a lower-than-normal exercise day - absolutely the antithesis of what a Monday should be. But as I say, whatever tomorrow's reading is, it is, and we move on from there. Any journey will have setbacks. The important thing appears to be not let them push you back, but to accept them and move the hell forward.