When I know I have a busy day, in commitment to others and outside the home, I make sure I claim back my time. I get up early and feed my pot first. I prioritise me.
This morning saw me up at 6am and out, down to the sea.
It was so beautiful this morning, with a slice of lemon on the horizon. I knew I’d made the right decision to get up and out, while the rest of the world was sleeping.
And of course I had to get in. June and the water is still cold. So it woke me up, job done. But it also calmed and focused the mind. When I’m with the sea, I can do anything. Nothing is an issue or a problem. It’s just gravy.
Once out of her embrace, I took to walking along the front, continuing my ultramarathon training, increasing my time on my feet each day.
Now home and completing my visual journaling over coffee. I’m satisfied. I know I’ve given myself the time to ease into the world on my own terms. This means I’m a happy bunny and for the rest of the day, I’ll be basking in this joyful light.
I went out walking this evening. After I stuffed my face and got settled down to watch some ultramarathon training videos on YouTube, I thought it would be more benefit to my body to get out and move her.
I tried an ultramarathon last year along the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path. I didn’t complete it because I ran out of time. I was just too slow to complete the 50k / 31 miles within the official timeframe. But I had a grand day out. It was glorious; the weather, the path, the sights and movement. I really enjoyed my day and I wasn’t too fussed about not completing it. I
knew I would try again.
And so it happened. I’d reached out to Into Ultra a couple of years ago for support for getting into ultra. I thought if not just advise then maybe some help financially with the kit and stuff. It hasn’t really happened till now.
They sent around an email offering free places in races coming up this year. And one took my fancy. SheRaces Trail Series Peak District 50K. There’s a 25K also which I know I can complete but it wouldn’t be as much as a challenge as the 50K.
A couple of days ago running coach Hannah Walsh shared a great Instagram post highlighting that just 0.007% of people have run an ultramarathon, and of these 0.0001% are women. That’s a really small number.
I like the idea of being able to complete an ultramarathon. I’ve completed 4 marathons, the last one being 2022 in Loch Ness.
To be amongst that small percentage of people, never mind women, never mind black women, who have ‘run’ an ultramarathon, is something to aim for.
And of course I’m not going to run it. I will run walk crawl as per usual. But this time, I know what to expect in terms of the pain, the terrain, the challenge, and toll it takes on the body.
I’m in training now. And there’s never enough time to get to my peak. But what is my peak? I’m an aging overweight black woman, but I’ve never felt more like myself and operating on my own terms. So that’s peak for me!
So this is as good a time as ever to give this ultra malarkey another try.
Consistency breeds confidence. This is my mantra. Consistency breeds confidence.
So as long as I get out walking each day build up the time I spend on my feet, I’ll be grand. And whatever else happens, it will be a grand day out!
Saturday 2nd August is the date of the gathering in the Peak District. You’re more than welcome to join me. Cheer me on. Supply the water and midget gems if you want!
For the last two days I’ve been completing my refresher course in Outdoor First Aid Training.
First completed during the pandemic, my certificate had run out and I needed to retake the course.
It’s simple, First Aid saves lives.
Basic first aid can mean the difference between life and death. A Red Cross survey showed a staggering 59% of deaths from injuries would have beenpreventable had first aid been given before the emergency services arrived.
Only about 4-5% of the population in the UK are First Aid trained. This for me is not enough people taking responsibility. This for me is not enough people l caring about other people’s well-being. This for me is not enough people demonstrating care in community.
What maddens me further is that women are more likely to not receive life saving first aid because people, usually men, are uncomfortable about exposing women’s breasts in conducting life saving CPR. So more women are dying without receiving first aid because of other people’s embarrassment. Fucking hell. I’m telling you now, if it’s the difference between showing my boobs and being able to live for another day, fucking get my top and bra off as soon as possible and start saving my life. You have my consent now.
I’m now trained up for another 3 years. But I won’t be leaving it there. I’ll make sure I’m refreshing my skills more frequently as well as moving onto an advanced first aid skills training course. I don’t think you can ever be prepared enough for saving a life , as who knows what scenarios will present themselves in real life, but at least I will have the confidence and the know how to try and save a life.
You know I love the movie, Sinners. I’m onto my fifth watching of it.
One of my favourite songs within the movie is this one Dangerous sung by Hailee Steinfeld. I could rage on for hours about this song; it’s melody and words and underlining beat. But for now, I’m taking the word dangerous and running with it.
Within Sinners, what can be seen as dangerous is the invasion of vampires, a life or death situation. What could also be seen as dangerous is a community of sharecroppers having a safe space to listen to music and dance and eat and drink on their own terms. To be free. This could be seen as dangerous by the white supremacy culture they are living under.
For me what I see as dangerous are the white men who are still running around in their white hoods, calling themselves the brotherhood, the protectors of white women and democracy and who do whatever is takes to keep the black people( they do not use this nice a term for such people) in line even if it means killing them all.
These white men in hoods, the Ku Klux Klan, deal out justice as they see fit, creating terror as the deterrent to black people thinking of stepping out of line. And that could be just breathing.
These white men could meet you on the street one day and be burning down your house the very next day. But you wouldn’t know who they be. You know the enemy is a white man but it could be the smiling face neighbour who hides behind the hood, concealing their identity and cause havoc with no repercussions or justice or revenge on them. To live in this sense of fear is unimaginable.
Today these Federal Officials and Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) marshals who are abusing their power, gifted by the Trump administration, to take people, children as well, from their homes, schools, work, off the streets and detain them, saying they are illegal, deport them, torture them for no reason except being seen as an ‘alien’ because they are brown and black are no better than the KKK. They wear the masks. They cover their faces. Conceal their identities and commit the crimes. The brown and black citizens of these communities are not committing any crimes except attempting to survive and thrive, living their lives.
Why cover your faces if you believe in what you are doing? Why conceal your identity if you are doing what is right, following the law? Why hide if you are proud of your actions?
This is dangerous. White men or white baby-men again have been emboldened and empowered to run havoc through our communities in the name of the law. Believing that they are doing what’s right in terms of some warped sense of superiority and the belief that they have a right to do so.
This is dangerous and has to be stopped. How? That is what we have to work out.
This is the message sweeping across countries at the moment, around the world, as we continue to move further to the right in terms of politics and governing people. Suppressing people and voices.
Thinking about my weekend in London at the Defeating Narratives of Division conference hosted by the Ella Baker School of Organising, and coming home to see peaceful protests in L.A. around the over stretching arms of Federal Officials and illegal immigration raids on communities being portrayed as chaos and unruly and needs to be stopped with military force. Trump, man!
What the fuck is happening right now? What false narratives fuelled by fear and intimidation are catching like wildfire and are taking hold? What is happening to democracy and fairness and justice?
I too am scared. I’ve been told by some to have fear and anxiety and start panicking in order to take action. Time is running out. Passing on this narrative of fear is making us on the so-called left no better than those on the right whose fuel is fear.
We have to be pushing back against these fears. Not disallowing them but acknowledging them and choosing to fuel our movement with love and solidarity and joy. We can come together as we have the power and spread a message of love and welcome and togetherness and there is no way that message can be twisted or used against us.
It is plain to see that communities who stand together, even if from different cultures and races and heritages, are powerful and those who are crooked and authoritarian are scared of this. Scared of us taking back our power and saying no, enough!
I’ll be writing more on this in the weeks to come. But for now I just had to mark this moment of disgust at what is happening around the world but how there is much to be celebrating and reinforcing and elevating. Stories of love and solidarity and people taking back their agency and power. Thinking of Burkina Faso here and other African nations who are standing up and saying enough is enough.
But all in good time, and for me ‘good’ time is slow time. Taking the time to bring about lasting change on our own terms.
“This week I’m joined by the inspirational Sheree – writer, creatrix, and space holder – whose work is steeped in ancestral memory, fierce tenderness, and a deep reverence for the wild, both within and around us.
Sheree walks the edge between the personal and political, the sacred and the embodied, calling forth the untold stories that live in Black women’s bodies and lineages.
In this soul-stirring conversation, we explore:
🌿 Honouring a daily writing practice while moving with the seasons of creativity 🔥 Reclaiming voice – how writing can be both resistance and healing 🖤 The story behind for black birds pushing against glass 🌊 Writing beyond structure, beyond ‘shoulds’ – from a place of truth and essence
This episode is a balm and a call to courage for anyone who longs to write from the wild, rooted place within.
🎧 Tune in now wherever you listen to podcasts or head straight to the Feral Words page.
And don’t forget to explore more of Sheree’s work over at Living Wild Studios – especially her regularly updated blog, which is a rich and reflective companion to her creative work”.
Living Wild Studios 