This is a merge of my 'Wanderer' blog that tells of two years of my three years on the streets, and a new blog that tells of my life after the Diocese of Winchester ripped through my life for for the last few years on top of the previous serious harm that left me homeless
This is a day to day blog of my life as I continue to survive, work on recovery and on the social problems that I have and try to come to terms with limitless traumas I have survived along the way.
This blog is in tandem with my blog about my experiences in the Church of England

The former name of this blog and the name of it's sister blog are to do with my sense of humour, which I hope to keep to the end, which appears to be ever more rapidly approaching. At least I laughed, and I laughed at the people who were destroying me. Don't forget that.

Here are my books, which I wrote for you if you would like to know more:

Wednesday, 6 January 2016

Wednesday evening

Good evening peeps.

Well I am sitting here wondering if I am dreaming, and seriously thinking about roast potatos with quorn chicken for tea!
I am completely allowed roast potatos any time I like because I cook them in fry-lite not fat after par-boiling them.

This morning I did several extra rounds for the shop due to the late papers.
Then I came home to the housework and paperwork and dragging wash loads over to the laundry.
We are having a new washing machine fitted in the flats but it is not running yet, and I will probably just go to the laundry anyway rather than struggle with change for the machine here, especially as my clothes need to be thoroughly dry so there is no damp in the flat.

Anyway. Then it was dentist time. Time for my final dental assessment and fitting of a new bite guard.
Because my clenching and grinding with stress is so bad, I am allowed to wear the new one during the day if need be. But the hospital said I will bite through it very quickly and they are keen to get a splint fitted.

Anyway, that was all OK and normal.
But sitting in the waiting room at the dentist changed my life.

So, I was sitting there, and I was reading the magazines as you do. Last month's local magazine was there and I idly flicked through it.
I saw and advert there and I had to re-read it.
We have been granted lottery sports funding locally and some programmes were on offer.
Because it was last month's magazine, I wasn't sure there would be any places left.
But I phoned them when I got home.
They cheerfully put my name down for one particular programme.

So this evening instead of catching up my gym. I got down to the athletics track.
Oh peeps, do any of you know or remember my dream is to run again, a dream that makes me cry?

The diocese of winchester took so much from me when they destroyed me, and part of that was my health and fitness.
The asthma is irreparable but I don't know about the other health issues and how they will affect it.
If I do any exercise I have to use a blue inhaler or tablets.

You hear me talking about gym sessions and my 100 reps of 22.5, which are perfectly true. My strength is still there even though my upper body is smashed up. But with aerobic training such as treadmill, cross trainer etc, I still struggle due to my back and legs and lungs, however, I am OK with the rowing machine.
So I have a 50:50 chance of safely completing my new running programme. My blood pressure was reading 130:95 aftter this evening's training, which isn't bad considering what it reads at routine readings before ramipril sometimes, and it will come down soon.

Anyway, so I went down to the running track, they had mistakenly told me that today was an informal drop in for instructions to start off, so I stopped for petrol on the way, so when I got down to the flood lit track, the instructions were already being broadcast over loudspeaker to a  big group of rather worried and excited people who, like me, are all in poor shape and are prepared to train up to or back up to, mini/half marathon standard. Do you remember how I used to be able to run from standing without training in those marathons?

Anyway, so we were started off, and at first it was brisk walking and then trot and run. Basically my old favourite, fartlek training.
This is how to get running fit.

Wow. Peeps, as you know I suffer trauma when I return to or regain anything that the diocese took off me and I expect to see Jane Fisher there having me kicked out and alienated.
At the end, we had a warmdown brisk walk, but some, including me, couldn't resist running in down the home stretch!

I know people will be dropping out over the next few weeks, but I hope that if I am not incapacitated tomorrow as a result of this, I will continue to train.
The next four weeks or so are build up and then we really start the running, and homework is plentiful if required.
 Technically I shouldn't be doing this at all, but damn it, I shouldn't even be alive, so I will proceed and if it doesn't make me more ill, it may well help my health.
It did cause Jersey flashbacks, but maybe not such bad ones.
 I have never done a formal running training programme and I feel it is what will really enable me to run if that is going to be possible.

I have a programme and a load of diagrammes of warm up exercise and a list of instructions.

I am sitting here watching Hollyoaks.

Running isn't easy when you have been through so much trauma and illness that your body has grown because you have been frozen and unable to move or do much. I wobble.

As I was running I wondered. Shall I rename Life After the Diocese 'The Journey Home'?
I also wondered about the beginners tennis programme.

Florence is struggling. But if she can hold together for two days, her best friend will assess her and give a verdict and probably order the starter motor that we didn't order before.

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