public relations

Impactful communications
with an Agile twist

To herald the start of the financial year, I’ve done something drastic – I’ve cancelled my gym membership.

It wasn’t particularly a bank-breaker but I came to a startling conclusion earlier this year…. That after months of pounding away on the treadmill or cross-trainer, I don’t like the gym.

Yes, I quite enjoyed escaping from the house and toddler-induced chaos and listening to music that doesn’t involve nursery rhymes or Disney film soundtracks.

But the physical act of working out in the gym feels so sterile and pointless.

I also have one of those characters like Marty McFly from the Back to the Future films – if someone calls me “chicken”, I’ll refute it passionately and take on whatever challenge has been thrown at me.

Hence last year, two colleagues and I (plus one hungover husband – not my own, I hasten to add) took on Bodmin Ten Tors in aid of one of our charity clients. I felt like Daphne du Maurier’s heroine Mary Yellan stomping across dramatic landscape, but without the impractical dress. It was an incredible experience.

Since then I’ve got a bit of a walking bug. Not obsessively, but I completely love tramping over the Cornish coast path, whatever the weather.

Because running is boring and repetitive, I would avoid running in the rain completely. But I’m more likely to handle classic Cornish sideways rain and blowing winds whilst wrapped up in soft socks, hoody, coat and hat.

And it’s not just me. My friend and fellow frazzled mummy Sammy has set up a women’s walking group, aptly named Hiker Chicks (you can find them on Facebook). This weekend we tackled the stunning stretch of the south coast from Gorran Haven to Portholland between St Austell and the Roseland.

I had brand new boots (early birthday present) to break in. The sun was shining, the banter was entertaining, the gorse smelling it’s most coconutty (if that is a word).

We were joined by bees, butterflies, pheasants and scattering of meadow flowers. We took a lot longer than anticipated because we lingered to take in the sweeping views.

I’d persuaded my long-suffering mum to look after the girls, and as I rounded the headland from Caerhays, I could see my two daughters paddling in a perfect rockpool with Sammy the Labrador chasing them. I was also handed a beer and a pasty on arrival.

Nothing can bring you such Joie de Vivre as sunshine, our beautiful Cornish landscape. Bring on the Green Gym.

To herald the start of the financial year, I’ve done something drastic – I’ve cancelled my gym membership.

It wasn’t particularly a bank-breaker but I came to a startling conclusion earlier this year…. That after months of pounding away on the treadmill or cross-trainer, I don’t like the gym.

Yes, I quite enjoyed escaping from the house and toddler-induced chaos and listening to music that doesn’t involve nursery rhymes or Disney film soundtracks.

But the physical act of working out in the gym feels so sterile and pointless.

I also have one of those characters like Marty McFly from the Back to the Future films – if someone calls me “chicken”, I’ll refute it passionately and take on whatever challenge has been thrown at me.

Hence last year, two colleagues and I (plus one hungover husband – not my own, I hasten to add) took on Bodmin Ten Tors in aid of one of our charity clients. I felt like Daphne du Maurier’s heroine Mary Yellan stomping across dramatic landscape, but without the impractical dress. It was an incredible experience.

Since then I’ve got a bit of a walking bug. Not obsessively, but I completely love tramping over the Cornish coast path, whatever the weather.

Because running is boring and repetitive, I would avoid running in the rain completely. But I’m more likely to handle classic Cornish sideways rain and blowing winds whilst wrapped up in soft socks, hoody, coat and hat.

And it’s not just me. My friend and fellow frazzled mummy Sammy has set up a women’s walking group, aptly named Hiker Chicks (you can find them on Facebook). This weekend we tackled the stunning stretch of the south coast from Gorran Haven to Portholland between St Austell and the Roseland.

I had brand new boots (early birthday present) to break in. The sun was shining, the banter was entertaining, the gorse smelling it’s most coconutty (if that is a word).

We were joined by bees, butterflies, pheasants and scattering of meadow flowers. We took a lot longer than anticipated because we lingered to take in the sweeping views.

I’d persuaded my long-suffering mum to look after the girls, and as I rounded the headland from Caerhays, I could see my two daughters paddling in a perfect rockpool with Sammy the Labrador chasing them. I was also handed a beer and a pasty on arrival.

Nothing can bring you such Joie de Vivre as sunshine, our beautiful Cornish landscape. Bring on the Green Gym.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *