Bon voyage

Bye Neil and Becc. We'll see you at the weekend.

Raffle winners

At last, the winners of the great Oxfam Raffle

* Baby gear goes to Moyra Poipoi of Alicetown
* Grown up gear goes to Lauri Dower of Auckland
* Madame Fancy Pants necklace goes to Jo Hubris
* Toast Clothing bag of his choice goes to Sam Broad (Rhiannon - I will send you his contact details so you guys can sort out what he wants)

All winners will be contacted stat!


Many many many thanks again to all those who sold tickets, donated goods and gave generously.

K xx

We love ...

On the walk to end all walks, Neil and I, for a reason I forget, started talking about old British comedies like Benny Hill and The Two Ronnies. In my house, Christmas was about the Morecambe & Wise Christmas Special as much as it was about presents. We used to joke that Eric Morecambe (right) was my Dad (tall with glasses) while Ernie Wise was our Uncle Roy in Auckland (left) who is short and has white hair. Anyway, Neil and I, to ease the pain in various parts of our bodies, started singing the Morecambe & Wise song that they played at the end of the show, Bring Me Sunshine.

Anyway, just as it is impossible to be sad looking at penguins, it is also impossible to be sad singing this song. Even if your feet have swelled up and your legs are in agony and you can't remember your name. Bring me Sunshine, in your smile,

Bring me Laughter, all the while,

In this world where we live, there should be more happiness,

So much joy you can give, to each brand new bright tomorrow,
Make me happy, through the years,

Never bring me, any tears,

Let your arms be as warm as the sun from up above,

Bring me fun, bring me sunshine, bring me love.

Bring me Sunshine, in your eyes,

Bring me rainbows, from the skies,

Life's too short to be spent having anything but fun,

We can be so content, if we gather little sunbeams,
Be light-hearted, all day long,

Keep me singing, happy songs,

Let your arms be as warm as the sun from up above,

Bring me fun, bring me sunshine, bring me love.

Words - Sylvia Dee, Music - Arthur Kent

For more Morecambe and Wise stuff, see http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/classic/morecambe_wise/

Roll up, roll up, get your tickets here

Many, many thanks to all those who have donated goodies to the Great Oxfam Craft Raffle to help us get towards the $5000 we promised Oxfam we would raise for them. I'm sending out copies of the flyer above and tickets to various people in the next few days. There are two prizes - one for babies and one for grown ups, both worth $100s but lucky for me under the $500 limit before the raffle is officially called "gambling" and requiring fancy schmancy printed tickets etc.

If you want to buy tickets, let me know - if you're in Wellington we can meet on a dodgy street corner somewhere. If you're not in Wellington, we'll sort something out. Yes, even you Aucklanders can get a slice of this action.

There are other ways to help us reach our goal - if you buy something through the Oxfam Unwrapped website and quote our team number OTW07_413 (Mortimer Terrace Posse) we get a $20 credit to our fundraising total. Also, if you want to set up a regular donation to Oxfam and quote our team number we can a whopping $250 credit. Or if you are completely nuts and want to get black toenails for a laugh, you could sign up to next year's Trailwalker, quote our team number and we get a $250 credit.

We have until June 15 to raise the remaining $2000, and if we don't, I imagine Oxfam will be sending the boys round to knee-cap us all.

26 weird hours in the life of Kimberley Rothwell

At five minutes to six on Saturday morning, the entire team is smiling. L-R Beccy-boo, Natalie, Matty J, Kimpy, Baggott, Joe

Nearly six hours and 28kms later we're at checkpoint two. Note Kimpy's glazed but content expression as she clasps a hot cup of tea

Early afternoon, Joe deals to his feet 10km down the line at checkpoint three

Midnight. Just before the second to last leg where I stopped feeling so shiny. Before then, I could be heard saying things like "I feel fantastic" and "We're so lucky it's not raining." Afterwards, I could be heard saying "If I ever say I'm going to do some fundraising again, shoot me."

7.45 am Sunday morning. Back at the apartment in Taupo just before I had a shower and crashed out for a few hours. Feeling pretty chuffed.

Ten cups of tea, a kilo of jetplanes, and a roll of strapping tape later ...

L-R Mortimer Terrace Posse - Joe, Neil, Kimpy, and Matty J - cross the finish line after walking 100km. We rolled in at 7.30am, 25.5 hours after we started. (The clock says 23.5 hours because it was started at 8am the previous morning when the runners set out. We walkers set out at 6am.)

Yup, we did it. We completed the Oxfam Hellwalker 100km challenge. To see our results and the times we did for each leg, click the banner on the side bar. It takes you to our team page.

Things I won't forget about those long 25.5 hours of trudging:

0.02 kms : Neil having to take a pee before we had even walked 100m. We were one of the last teams to leave Taupo domain.

10kms : Some lovely middle aged ladies calling Joe's legs "shapely" and flirting with him like a bunch of school girls.

14.7kms : The sight of Joe's feet like pieces of raw meat that he meticulously dressed at the first checkpoint.

30-odd kms : Neil singing Bring Me Sunshine and telling Tommy Cooper jokes as we strolled across picturesque country.

38.1kms : Running to a checkpoint after ditching my bag with Natalie. Running after walking feels gooooood. So does skipping. Who knew? Then having Natalie put a cup of tea down in front of me without having to say a word. Love her.

50kms : Mugging a marshal for his cup of tea, but finding it wasn't tea at all, it was soup. So disappointed.

55kms : Going into warp speed when the rain began and we were still 2kms from a checkpoint. I couldn't wait for those fat lazy boys to keep up with me. I believe the grass under my feet caught fire.

57.5kms : The chops at checkpoint four - I could have eaten the bone they were so good and I had the Athlete's Hunger.

63.7kms : Getting texts from our pals lounging around back in Wellington.

64.5kms : Losing my Waikato Times beanie. Sob.

68.8kms : Turning around to see a line of torches in the dark, like loads of people going to work in the mines.

71.1kms : The lack of bacon sarnies that Oxfam promised us at checkpoint six.

78kms : Stopping at an aid station having a blister dressed, thinking my feet were in a bad way, when a guy who hadn't changed his sweaty wet socks for nearly 80kms came in with puckered feet that were shaved raw underneath.

80kms : Hitting the wall on the last real climb, wobbly legs and all. Had to sit down and eat bananas and breathe deeply.

85kms : Singing Dominion Road about five or six times to distract myself from how awful my feet felt. Making a note to thank the salesman at Shoe Clinic for making me buy shoes a size too big.

86.5km : "C'mon, let's get freakin' going!" Getting stroppy when I just wanted the whole thing over with.

90kms : Saying "we are so freakin lucky with the weather" about a hundred times - we only had a few drizzle patches when it was meant to hose down the whole time.

94kms : Thinking Matt was wearing a red cap on backwards when the light came up as we walked beside the lake. That was the only hallucination any of us had. Disapponting.

All the time : Every man and his walking stick asking Joe if he had broken his arm on the walk. He was wearing a sling to protect the shoulder that he broke in a bike crash six weeks ago.

Becc's indefatigable chipperness. Sorry we couldn't match your enthusiasm sometimes, Beccy boo. Neil constantly talking about crack, asking when the next (*&(@#*^#$ checkpoint was, and talking to his Beccy boo on the walkie talkie.

100kms : Crossing the finish line to the loud applause of our crew, including a fez-wearing Natalie.

Falling asleep on Joe's lap in the car at 7.35am.

Hot pools. Oh ... my ... GOD

Falling asleep on Joe's lap after going to the hot pools at 6.30pm.

Falling asleep on Joe's lap after dinner at 7.30pm.

Wearing my medal in the car on the way back to Wellington.

Anyway, I'll be sure to post more pics as they come to hand. There are many juicy ones of blisters, and as my big toenails are going black, I may document them over the week. The glamour.

I'm so freakin proud of my team. At about 2.30pm Oxfam took our team picture, then we did an action shot in which we were told to smile and make sure our arms were swinging.

Sun, stardom, and screaming

My feet, Lyall Bay, this morning

Wellington is still experiencing some of the finest weather EVER in the history of Wellington, but yesterday me and Taylor would not have known it. We walked from Owhiro Bay Road up to Hawkins Hill, across to the Wind Turbine, over to Wrights Hill and over to the Skyline Walk. It was chilly. On the way to Mt Kaukau, the wind was so strong and cold and horrendous that at one stage I was sure I was going to get blown over. Huge mists were screaming over the hillsides. My pony tail was whipping into my face, I was having trouble going forward into the head-on northerly and we decided to pull the plug just after passing Crofton Downs. So we walked down off the ridge into the suburbs, through Otari-Wilton's Bush and back to Taylor's in Brooklyn. Once we were off the ridge we discovered what a flippin' glorious day it was. People were out doing their gardens and washing their cars and going to birthday parties. I was shattered at the end, and wondering if I can really do this thing. My knee was pretty sore, and my hips were screaming.

Sweeney, with his latest acquisition (his four teef) being very cosmopolitan at the Maranui Cafe

Today, I did my first cafe review. Seeing as it was another glorious day, me, Ange and Sweeney (who is nine-months-old tomorrow) went to Maranui Surf Lifesaving Club at Lyall Bay. I am pleased to report the hollandaise was very tangy, and my eggs were soaking in it.

"I really think the government ought to be putting more money into health care benefits for cats. Specifically, more meat. Preferably fillet steak," Charles Rothwell of Vogeltown told Radio New Zealand News today.

After hollandaise bliss and a bit of perving at the boy with the Side-Show Bob hair at Maranui, we went and bought a lemon tree and a blueberry bush. I planted these in our garden and Bramwell interviewed me as I dug the hole to plant the bush in. I am quite useless at digging holes, and was convinced that there was a layer of concrete just under the surface. So in the audio I am puffing away like a chain-smoker as I talk and dig . Bramwell is making a documentary for Radio NZ about carbon neutrality, and the reason I planted the trees is to offset the carbon emissions made during the two flights I've taken this year. The documentary will be played on April 15, but I don't know what time. Stay tuned, listeners.

The last bit of decent writing I did

Now that I'm editting, I don't get as much time to write, and it's actually quite nice to have a break. But I managed to bash this out for yesterday's Life section in the paper, and although I thought it was cheesy, it brought Sarah my divinely talented and patient colleague to tears.

Kimberley Rothwell goes from zero to 100 in three months - taking on the Oxfam Trailwalker challenge in which she and three teammates will walk 100km in 36 hours this April. The girl who didn't even own a decent pair of trainers reveals how she's doing it.
--------------------
AS I PLOD along another walkway on a weeknight, pop another blister that has sprouted on my heel, inhale another meal of pasta, I ask myself what is the point of walking 100 kilometres?
I thought it would be easy _ it's just walking after all, and anyone can do that. Walk 100km in one go and raise some money for a good cause. If others can do it, so can I. But it's a grind, this training. It's grinding away at my feet, my knees, my spare time. It's not like the 40-hour famine in which you watch movies and eat barley sugars and groan when food ads come on the telly, then eat an entire cheesecake the next day. It's step after step after step for hours on end.
The Oxfam Trailwalker has been going for 25 years and involves teams of four walking the entire 100km course in less than 36 hours. The course is set north of Taupo, taking in Huka Falls and Craters of the Moon geothermal area. It's gentle country, not like tramping in the Tararuas or climbing up the Red Rocks track. At least, that's what I'm banking on. We also have to raise $5000 for Oxfam, primarily through people sponsoring us on the walk and donations.
When I think I can't do it anymore, when getting up at 6am on a Saturday to do another walk just seems too much, when it's raining and there's something good on the telly, I think about Cambodia.
In Cambodia, people sit atop piles of bricks on the backs of trucks for many kilometres over dusty rutted roads. Barefoot teenage boys walk along those roads carrying huge lumps of ice in their hands.
The stories of people who walked hundreds of kilometres to the Thai border to escape the Khmer Rouge are mind-boggling. They didn't have comfy walking shoes or water bottles or scroggin. They just endured.
It's ironic that it should be those images spurring me on as I stuff another protein bar in my face because some of the $5000 could end up in Cambodia.
But it doesn't stop my feet hurting.
Before I started all this, I hated tramping. I hated sandwiches and scroggin and the thought of eating chocolate for anything but pleasure was unknown to me. I just wanted to raise a lot of money for Oxfam, the 100km came second. But it's quickly taking over my life.
I have become an expert on which brand of tape and plaster will go on what shaped blister, and Nike shareholders can all pay off their mortgages on what I've spent in sports socks.
My diet has changed considerably since I've started training. I used to be the girl who ate half of what everyone else had. I considered deep-fried foods a complete food group. Now I eat everything, including the pattern on the plate. I almost swallowed my fork the other day. Nuts, bananas and water have become close friends.
A Vogel's sandwich with leaves and tomato and mayonnaise after a good three hours in the hot sun up hill and over dale tastes really, really good. I don't feel guilty about all the barbecue sausages I've been scoffing. I'm an athlete now, you see.
The next challenge is the weather. As summer ends abruptly with rain lashing the windows and wind toppling small children, I expect my training will turn into trudging.
I expect mud will replace sunburn. My sandwiches will get soggy in my pack. My iPod might get wet. I will spend more time thinking about the needle-like rain in my eyes and my waterlogged feet than anything else.
But then I will think about those people sitting on the trucks, just enduring what they have to endure. And I'll keep walking.

Summer lovin'

L-R: Ange, me, Nat, Matt, Becc on Mt Vic, Waitangi Day

Us lucky folk in Wellington have had four straight days of windless, sunny, warm evening-ed weather. It's been unbelievable. Saturday, went with Chris and Yasmine to Te Horo and hung out, ate good food, made a sand blob, talked about pus with our hosts Chrissy and Caroline, and had a lovely dinner for Chris' birthday back at our place. Sunday, did the Skyline Walk with Neil. We didn't talk about pus. Monday, rode my bike to work in my jandals and rode home again in jandals with only one stop on Hutchinson Road to put my lungs back into my chest. Went to Ange's for her birthday bbq where there were, at one stage, four babies at various stages of development - from walking (Bela) to unstoppable grinning (Leo) to just getting the hang of crawling and solids (Sweeney). Tuesday, went for 10km walk with Ange, Neil, Matt, Nat and Becc from Mt Albert to Mt Vic and back again. Then off to Eastbourne for a well-deserved meal and a gawk at more semi-naked teenagers getting skin cancer than I have ever seen in one place. Went to bed around seven cos I was knackered.

Today is also another brilliantly sunny still day. I walked to work with Pavement in my ears, imagining myself looking like a total rock goddess in front of 40,000 people adoring every note I pluckled. Must pratice guitar tonight.

Walking, walking and more walking

my new walking shoes, Friday afternoon

Yesterday Neil and I walked from the bottom of Mt Kaukau to Makara, and then a little bit more. I was feeling pretty good until we walked down Trickle Falls, a gnarly mountain biking track, which did my knees in and put me right off ever mountain biking again. We started just before nine am, and with scorching lungs reached Mt Kaukau about half an hour later. The weather was perfect, and we kind of dawdled along the skyline walk, taking in views of Wellington and Ohariu Valley, it was so clear you could probably have made out houses in the Marlborough Sounds if you looked closely. Just enough wind to cool the sweaty spots. Rippling pink and gold grass. Little tiny people doing tiny things in their tiny houses in tiny suburbs. It were splendid. We made it to Makara Hill Road by midday, a good hour or so before we were meant to. My new walking shoes held up well, just a bit of rubbing on my heels which I expected. So to fill in a bit of time before Becc picked us up, we went up Makara Hill, looked at the amazing view, then stumbled down Trickle Falls. When I got home, I ate everything I could get my hands on, had a bath, and fell into a coma. Then the hot Korean guy won Survivor, and I made a bit more of Chris' diary. Charlie curled up on my bed and stuck his white rabbit-like feet into my face, and today, I biked to work in my skirt and jandals. Life is good.

And on the subject of life being good - Sue from Craft 2.0 has said the posse can have a stall at the market on March 17. We'll be selling donated crafty things and baked things. It's on at the Dowse museum in Lower Hutt, and will help us towards our $5000 fundraising goal. That's so great - I am so chuffed! Thanks to all those who have offered to send crafty things to sell, probably best if you send them up to me at work: Kimberley Rothwell, Features, The Dominion Post, P O Box 3740, Wellington. If you wanna sell some baked stuff we'll co-ordinate closer to the time. Any other suggestions for things we can sell will also be gratefully accepted. Merci bien.

It starts today

On April 14, myself and three people who will probably never speak to me again after that date are taking on a bit of a challenge. It's called the Oxfam Trailwalker and it has two bits to it:
1. Walk 100kms with three teammates in under 36 hours on a course near Lake Taupo.
2. Raise $5000 with those same teammates before June.

In preparation for this, we are doing two things:
1. Walking everywhere all the time anytime
2. Organising a quiz night, a corporate box event, and getting people to sponsor us per kilometre we walk.
And while I type this, I am thinking of maybe running a fundraising stall at Craft 2.0 like Melissa did for the Ghalia family. Perhaps other carfties out there could donate some stock for it? I'll get back to you on that one...

My indefatiguable teammates are:
1. Ange Rothwell - she of the determined will who biked up that big hill on the round Taupo race and didn't get off to stop, not even once.
2. Matt Taylor - who says the walk will be just like 13 rounds of golf. Easy.
3. Neil Baggott - the Wolverhampton lad who is three times the tramper the rest of us are, and could end up carrying us all over the finish line.

So this is where you dudes come in - and I know you're out there. If you want to support us, there are plenty of ways you can do it.
1. You can sponsor me per kilometre I walk. I'm aiming of course to do the whole 100km (and am going to buy myself an Ipod as a treat if I do make it) but you never know... Either email me or leave a comment with how much you want to sponsor me per km.
2. You can make a one-off donation here.
3. You can come to our quiz night (TBA) and our corporate box night (also TBA). I'll keep you posted.

But whatever you do, check out Oxfam's work here - this is where the money we raise is going.

Many thanks in advance, the Mortimer Terrace Posse

Over hill, over dale, through the mud and in the hail

Yesterday I started "training" for the Oxfam Trailwalker that me, Ange, Neil and Matt are doing in mid-April. We're the Mortimer Terrace Posse. The challenge involves walking 100km around a course near Taupo consisting mainly of open farmland, in under 36 hours. The average time it takes a team to complete it is 28 hours. I walked up Brooklyn Hill, Washington Ave, and down Connaught Terrace to my house. Some of the houses in C Terrace have an even better view that Mortimer Terrace, you can see right down into Te Aro and beyond to the waterfront. You can watch the cricket at the Basin, or fireworks from the stadium. Superb. It took less than an hour to get home, so was well pleased. This morning, I got up at ... 7am (that's two hours before work, which is unheard of for a Kimberley) had breakfast (also a new thing) and walked to work via Mt Cook. I have a wee blister forming on my heel. I imagine by April my feet will be hard like rocks.

I think I may have taken on too much this year. What with training for the walk, raising the $5000 we said we'd raise for Oxfam, starting a jewellery business, being Aunty Kimpy one day a week, learning the guitar, going back to the Alliance Francaise to continue my French study, training to tutor refugees in English, and my work commitment with possible overseas trips if I get a grant, I think something's going to have to give. Just don't know what yet.