Moonwalk - done

I would be lying if I thought it would be easy, but nothing could really prepare me for the physical and emotional rollercoaster that was the Moonwalk.

Ready and raring to go: my mum and I at Moonwalk city

When I first signed up for the 26.2 mile overnight walk for breast cancer I didn’t realise what I had in store.

Sure it’s a marathon but it wasn’t like I was running it, essentially it’s just a long walk…right?

Wrong, very wrong.

It took my mum and I just over eight hours (including loo stops!) to complete the gruelling course around central London.

As the clock ticked over to 11.25pm we set off, marching with speed and determination with a crowd of 14,000 other women and the odd chap.

The atmosphere was fantastic and my stomach fluttered with excitement.

After all the training and preparation and agonising over decorating the bra, the moment had finally come.

Setting off through Hyde Park in the dark the miles seemed to tick over quite quickly.

Spectators cheered and shouted words of encouragement while boozed up party-goers clapped and raised their glasses to us.

As we passed a kebab shop in London Bridge blasting ‘We are Family’ at full volume its owners and customers danced wildly, gesturing to us to keep going.

At mile 10, as the Half-Mooners split off to head to their finish point, we continued on along the river by the light of the moon, feeling surprisingly good.

It wasn’t until we wound around the streets of Kensington and Chelsea at about 5 in the morning that things started to get really tough.

Well-wishers and friendly drunks had vanished and most of the city was asleep.

We had walked 18 miles, a massive achievement anyway but we still had more than 8 miles to go.

I was feeling okay, I ached all over but I still had reserves, while my mum had well and truly hit the wall.

My friend Gemma had by then reached the point where if she slowed down she might not get going again so we watched as she vanished into the crowd ahead.

Giving my mum words of encouragement while trying to maintain I was fine and not struggling at all (obviously not true), we reached the last stretch, entering Hyde Park for the final three miles.

By this point we were barely walking, I think hobbling would better describe our state.

And that final mile…wow. I felt like a fatigued adventurer trekking through the desert, looking for an oasis in the wilderness.

The road stretched on and on ahead of us and as the finish line failed to materialise, it really felt like there was no end in sight.

And then like a mirage, there it was.

I put my arm around my mum’s shoulder, the emotion surging in my chest, tears welling in my eyes, and with the biggest, weariest smiles we crossed the line.

The sense of achievement and pride in what we had just done was overwhelming.

Nearly 12 hours on I still feel a bit wobbly when I think of that moment.

Yes, my feet look like that of an 85-year-old – red, blistered and swollen – my legs are stiff and aching and when I get up I resemble the Ascent of Man in 3D, but we did it!

We made it!

And I couldn’t have done it without the support of all my brilliant friends and family, from coming out on training walks with me to giving me a leg rub after them (thanks Jon!) and of course by digging deep to sponsor me.

I’m so proud of myself, but mainly of my mum – you are amazing!

Emotional: Mum and I crossing the line

I’ve now raised £360 for a vital cause so thanks so much to everyone who has donated, without your money this whole thing would have been pointless.

If you haven’t sponsored me yet you still can here. 

Walk the walk

It’s been three months and more than 160 miles since I started my training for the Moonwalk.

And now the date is nearly here. In just five days I’ll be strapping on my hideously be-feathered and sequined bra and stepping out for a midnight stroll.

My decorated Moonwalk bra

Well not a stroll exactly, a walking marathon – yes that’s 26.2 miles – all in aid of breast cancer charities.

I’m not going to lie, I’m a little apprehensive about the whole thing.

Not just of walking around in public in my bra for all to see (feathers or no feathers), although that part doesn’t exactly fill me with joy.

No, I’m worried I won’t finish. ‘Oh don’t be silly, you’ll be fine!’ I hear you cry.

But what if despite spending hours trudging around London in the rain in my ever-so flattering pink mac, I don’t manage to reach the end?

The Wandle Trail

The idea of getting to mile 25 and having to bow out with a blister and a mild case of hypothermia sends me into a bit of a panic.

Saying that, there’s no reason to believe I won’t make it. I’ve followed the training plan to the point where I’ve got calves the size of rugby balls.

Yep, I've been all over the place. From walking up and down the banks of the River Thames and following the Wandle Trail, to traipsing up the A3 on my way home from work.

I've got to know parts of London I probably never would have visited.

Underneath it all I know I'll finish because it's such a vital cause.

Walking a few miles a week is nothing in comparison to what women (and men) with breast cancer have to go through.

And if walking for eight hours through the night in a bra helps researchers get that little bit closer to winning the fight against the disease, then I’m ready.

So too I hope are you… to sponsor me that is! Well this whole thing would be pretty pointless if I didn’t manage to raise any money wouldn’t it?

So if you haven’t already, please visit my fundraising page and donate whatever you can afford.

Thank you!

People Power

The lengths people will go to for power have been well documented throughout history.

You only have to cast your mind back to the Second World War to realise what the drive for power (mixed with a cocktail of fascism and hate) can do.

That is of course an extreme and perhaps obvious example but the list is endless.

Assad in Syria, Taylor in Sierra Leone, Pol Pot in Cambodia, the US in much of the world…

Hey it doesn’t even have to amount to gross human rights atrocities.

What about Nick Clegg, who sold out his party along with everyone who voted for it, just for a sniff of power?

But like most things there is a flipside to this – for every mind-melting act of abasing violence and betrayal in the pursuit of power – there is another force that strives to crush it.

People power is alive and well across the world, as we’ve seen in North Africa and the Middle East in the last year.

Those fighting injustice everywhere – whether in Saudi Arabia against an oppressive regime or in Britain against an unjust policy – will keep going as long as it exists.

Power and all that it evokes was the theme for the second issue of PoV Magazine.

Exploring everything from the power of humanity and war photography to superheroes and the power of Formula One, this bulging issue is a feast for the eyes… and the brain.

Read it here:

Open publication - Free publishing - More art

Big brother is watching

People in the UK spend nearly half of their waking life watching TV, on the phone or online.

So it’s inevitable we're giving away more and more information about ourselves, either by updating our Facebook status or ordering our weekly food shop online.

Like most people I accept this as an unsettling but inevitable trade-off for the world of freedom and possibility opened up by 21^st century technology.

But a proposed new law allowing the Government to monitor all phone and online communication is a price I’m not willing to pay.

The plans will call on internet service providers to gather information about the public – namely who is talking to who, and when – and allow security services to access it.

It may sound like a policy more at home in China or within the pages of 1984 but the UK coalition wants to make it a reality, in order to; you guessed it, “protect the public”.

When will the Government realise the public rarely feels more threatened than when its civil liberties are at risk?

Collecting information from the general public is not only an affront to privacy, it’s open to widespread abuse and negligence by authorities which have all too often proved themselves incompetent when it comes to handling sensitive information.

In Dominic Raab’s 2009 book ‘The Assault on Liberty’, in which he relays the steady creep of anti-terrorism legislation brought in by the last Government, he makes this point.

‘A broad brush approach is open to abuse. It was disclosed that during one month in 2007 police at Gatwick airport conducted hundreds of random searches outside the (already wide) rules, without the required ministerial authorization. And the wider the powers, the greater the risk that innocent people will be caught in a net so widely cast.’

Now in government MP Raab is sticking to his guns, leaking an Information Commissioner report that warned strict safeguards must be put in place if the plan goes ahead.

In response to it he told the BBC it “fundamentally changes the nature of the relationship between the state and the citizen”, turning every individual “into a suspect”.
The popular argument in favour of such ‘security measures’ is that if you have nothing to hide you shouldn’t mind the authorities gaining access to your private data.

But what is the point in using this in our supposed fight against terrorism, if by doing so we are wearing away the very thing that makes the UK worth protecting?

Snooping on our own people is not the answer to Britain’s security problems and it never will be.

In the words of Benjamin Franklin, “Those who would give up essential liberty for a little temporary safety deserve neither.” 

Catching cancer early saves lives

A survey by Cancer Research UK has found thousands of people could be dying because they’re too frightened to go to the doctors.

Of the 2090 people questioned, 40% said they might put off going to their GP, even when they had symptoms, because they were worried about what they might find.

Catching cancer early can raise the chance of survival massively, meaning thousands of people in the UK could be needlessly dying every year.

Cancer Research UK said if Great Britain matched the best cancer survival rate in Europe, around 11,500 deaths could be avoided. And late diagnosis is at the heart of the problem.

I know too well the distress cancer can cause.

Two-and-a-half years ago my boyfriend Jon’s sister Lilly ended up in hospital when doctors found a tumour on her pituitary, a gland found at the base of the brain that produces hormones.

She first went to the doctor with stomach pains a year earlier but was mistakenly diagnosed with IBS.

When the problem didn’t go away Lilly saw a specialist, and after months of tests a scan found the tumour.

Despite a successful operation to remove it, the nightmare for Lilly and her family didn’t end there.

Just weeks later she was rushed to hospital when she started fitting.

A closer look revealed why - another tumour, this time on her pancreas.

I can remember the moment I found out Lilly was in intensive care. I had been out of the country for six months travelling around Asia, so the enormity of her ordeal hadn’t really registered.

Touching down at Heathrow, I switched on my phone.  My heart stuck in my throat as I read the message from Jon telling me the news.

In the arrivals hall greeting my parents I fought back tears, the reality of the situation finally hitting home.

Although Lilly said her GP was great from the beginning, she admitted her experience had made her realise how vital it is to get even the slightest lump, bump or pain checked out.

She said: “To be honest I coped with the symptoms for way too long as I thought, well hoped, they were nothing. I would say any change in your body is worth checking out as if you catch it early they can keep an eye on you.

“Even a slight delay can make a massive difference; it was progressing fast and a two day delay with my scan caused complications that could have been avoided.”

Although experts are still trying to work out the cause of Lilly’s cancer, she is now thankfully in remission.

In her case, catching it early not only spared her chemotherapy but almost certainly saved her life.
Later this month we will be celebrating Lilly’s 30^th birthday, and after everything she’s been through I know it will be a special one.

 

Lilly has inspired me to take part in this year’s Moonwalk in London, a power walking night time marathon, to raise money and awareness for breast cancer.

If you would like to sponsor me please give generously (26 miles is a long way in a bra!) here. 

Silence on arms is a ticking bomb

This week UN negotiators are meeting in New York to discuss a global arms trade treaty, ahead of final negotiations this summer.

Believe it or not there are currently no laws in place to control the sale of arms around the world – from bullets and cluster bombs to tear gas – although the trade in consumer products like coffee and bananas are heavily regulated.

With Amnesty International estimating that around 1,500 people are killed in armed conflict every day, this is a huge opportunity for the UK government to save millions of lives.

Yet it’s already showing signs of backing down, with foreign minister Alistair Burt saying in this week’s Independent on Sunday, "there would have to be compromises".

The West has been shaken by the violent crackdown that’s happening in Syria at the moment.

And with countries like Russia thought to be still selling the very weapons being used against civilians, something needs to be done to control this trade.

The idea that Governments around the world are profiting from slaughter is abhorrent but it’s been going on for decades.

According to The Guardian’s research, in the year ending in September 2010, £215million worth of UK export licences for ‘controlled’ products were granted to companies selling to Libya.

‘Controlled’ goods can include everything from radioactive material to guns and tear gas.

So it’s likely crowd control equipment sold to Libya by the UK was used against protesters during last year’s uprising.

Labour leader Ed Miliband has shown his support for the treaty, saying: “A key element in helping prevent conflicts, and making them less deadly when they occur, is better controls on arms supplies.”

But double act Cameron and Clegg have been pretty quiet on the subject.

Government ministers are speaking of compromises but how can you compromise on human life?

It’s high time the UK stood up for the individual instead of big business. I don’t remember Cameron’s Big Society mentioning anything about destroying societies overseas.

This week will help decide the content of the treaty – what will be controlled – as well as how it will be enforced and who is allowed to take part in the talks this July.

Now more than ever is a crucial time for the potentially game-changing treaty.  So here’s hoping the UK stands it ground and does its bit to make the world a safer place.

Raise your hand

If you asked a group of people to raise their hand if they had their dream job, I’m guessing less than half would do it.

Let’s be clear here. I don’t mean these people aren’t happy doing what they do or they don’t enjoy their day jobs. Maybe it’s the best job they’ve ever had.

No, I’m talking about whether they have their ultimate, one-in-a-million, wake up every day and pinch yourself kind of jobs.

Okay so this isn’t based on any kind of scientific research, call it anecdotal observation.

And this is so much more the case for creative people.

How many poets do you know who only write verses to pay the bills? What percentage of artists can afford to live off their canvas?

I don’t think it’s a high number. Otherwise where did the term ‘struggling artist’ come from?

This is where PoV magazine steps in. It’s a place where creatives everywhere – be they journalists, photographers or sketch artists – can get their stuff published without their bosses sticking their noses in.

It’s a quarterly free online magazine based on a different theme each time and the first issue is out now.

Take a look below, enjoy and if you’re a creative person with something you want the world to see, why not get involved?

Open publication - Free publishing - More art

Some justice at last

This week brought justice at last when Gary Dobson and David Norris were finally convicted 18 years after killing teenager Stephen Lawrence.

A catalogue of failures in the original investigation made this a landmark case, exposing institutional racism within the Metropolitan police.

For me it was interesting that this case came to a head as I was reading ‘In the Place of Justice’ by Wilbert Rideau.

The book is a memoir of Rideau’s 44-year stint in one of America’s most violent prisons, Angola.

He ended up there after he killed a cashier during a botched bank robbery.

As a 19-year-old black man in 1960’s Louisiana – at a time of racial segregation, the Klu Klux Klan and mob rule – killing a white woman made him public enemy number one.

During his three trials Rideau was never allowed to give a defence against his crime, which was grossly embellished by the prosecution.

For example, they claimed he decapitated the bank cashier. This was not true.

What he did was terrible – after all he did take someone’s life. But while he always admitted his crime, his enemies continually made out he was a dangerous man who had set out to kill that day.

In reality he was a frightened teenager who did the unthinkable in a moment of panic.

The prosecution’s claim was later disproven but these stories – a result of anger and bigotry by the overwhelmingly white population meant Rideau served double the time for what he did.

After escaping the electric chair when the state introduced a moratorium on executions Rideau made it his life’s mission to try to put right his wrongs while inside.

He became the prison’s first black editor of its all-white newspaper The Angolite, winning a plethora of journalism awards for writing exposés on life behind bars.

But as those guilty of similar crimes were released he continued to lose countless appeals for clemency, despite having the support of corrections officials.

Even in the ‘90s Rideau came up against prejudice as politicians used his case to win votes from the white population.

Rideau was eventually freed in 2005 after a retrial found him guilty of manslaughter not murder.

Now I don’t think for one minute his case can be directly compared to that of Stephen Lawrence, who was killed in an unprovoked attack. He was the victim while Rideau’s actions put him where he was.

But I was struck by the power of racism to interfere with justice - keeping the guilty free and the reformed locked up.

As Doreen Lawrence said, this week’s verdict is not a cause for celebration.

This is a step in the right direction for the fight against racism in this country, but both here and in the US we still have a long way to go before we can stand up and say we are free from prejudice.