A preparatory butt massage

Him: "This is going to sound weird, but I think a bare butt massage would really help you out."
Me: "..."

Ladies and gentlemen, my personal trainer, a man who I find completely fabulous, if in possession of some of the strangest ideas I've ever heard in my life. But (no pun intended) since I'm dedicating the next six months of my life to fundraising and training for a hardcore trek across the Andes then to hell with it, why the devil not? I shall be booking a session with the sports massage lady on my next trip to the chiropractor's.

Is this a typical part of preparatory training? I hear you gasp. No. No it is not. Except for people like me, who manage to mess up their lower back and need to get it sorted before the real training begins. Which means a corrective programme to start with, and the aforementioned bare butt massage. I really know how to get my timing right.


I have now told most people about the trek, except my boss, who will be slightly trickier because I have booked it for the two weeks before our magazine's print deadline. If I set up in a way that makes him think I'm going to resign, he won't mind the holiday timing...right? We'll see.

I told my martial arts buddies this morning. The laughed and asked if I was fitting it in around my pilot training, helicopter licence, SCUBA qualification and Japanese lessons. Funny, guys. But with a pertinent point: part of the reason for my ending up with depression is that I have a tendency to push myself too hard, expect the world from myself and beat myself up if I don't deliver. My therapist uses the word 'harsh' without a second thought when we talk about how I treat myself. Or used to. Part of my rehab (yes, I'm running with 'rehab', it makes me sound like a tortured artist) is remembering to be kind to myself, to take breaks and to have a lie in every now and again. And I'm not about to lose sight of how important that is: depression is beyond rubbish in every way, and I'm the kind of person who is coming out of it determined to reduce my chances of being crippled by it again. Things are never certain of course, but it turns out going easy on yourself is kind of fun. I think I'll keep it.

My sincerest thanks to the eager beavers who have been super quick off the mark and donated to the cause already, I know you are among the people who best understand what this means to me. The fundraising begins in earnest as soon as that delivery of self raising flour, butter and icing sugar arrives!