This is my new deerstalker cap. I think we can all agree that it is without question the finest thing I have ever owned. I do not know how I have survived these forty-one years without owning a deerstalker cap. I think perhaps I thought that a deerstalker cap was something only Sherlock Holmes could own, instead of something I could own because awesomeness.
And warm ears.
I shall wear it often. I may affect some sort of monocle to go with it, if I can work out how to grip things using only my eye socket.
Or perhaps a cane. A cane and a bloodhound and a travelling cape.
All the things!
You may be sceptical. You may doubt that this is the finest thing that I have ever owned. Ask yourself one question. If you were in a room with this deerstalker cap, would you put it on your head?
Of course you would. There would be nothing you could do about it. I therefore win all the arguments.
There are only five more sleeps before I put this deerstalker cap to its proper purpose, adorning my shiny noggin as I take on the Mighty Deerstalker race / experience / endless torment. Billed as ‘ten kilometres and then some’ (I’m guessing closer to ten miles), the race is apparently mostly offroad, through rivers and mud, up hills, in the dark, with obstacles, mostly lit only by the head torches of those running, and cargo nets, and tunnels, and ropes somehow, if the video below is to be credited.
I will be wearing my deerstalker cap, until it inevitably falls off and I am too tired to retrieve it. I will be reuniting with The Beard for this particular endeavour. The Beard informs me that he does not have a deerstalker cap, which means that I will probably win all the things.
Although he did think to purchase running shoes with ten inch teeth jutting from the sole, which in retrospect is something I perhaps should also have considered.
Maybe buying a deerstalker cap and calling it good wasn’t the very best gameplan I could have come up with…
Bollocks. Got The Fear now. Whose idea was this blog post anyway?
As challenging as Saturday will be, it’s actually only one (horribly ill-considered) stop on my long journey to The Wall. On June 18th I’ll be bounding* 69 miles (111 kilometres, metric fans!) in 24 hours or less along the length of Hadrian’s Wall, crossing the UK from Carlisle on the west coast to Newcastle on the east. While doing so I thought I’d try to raise some money for something more important than my own shallow middle-aged crisis. My daughter told me I should probably fundraise for Water Aid, and so I am.
Some of you have already given me some money, and I can’t thank you enough. I’m over a third of the way to my target (£690 – a tenner for every agonising mile). If you haven’t donated yet and can, please consider following the link and doing so. If you are friends with millionaires on Facebook or Twitter (or even people with a fiver to spare), then please share the page at the end of the link.
*Probably not bounding. Crawling maybe. Weeping, almost certainly.