By: Blonde Two

Don’t panic, I know that the title above looks as though the Blondes have been doing maths but we know our limits and, in fact, this blog post is about how maths doesn’t really work.

I bet you thought I was talking about age when you read it first.  I could pretend here that I don’t know about being either thirty or forty but who would want to when both have been so good.  I must be a very lucky girl because each decade just keeps on being better than the last.

I could, of course, have been talking about walking (surely not Blonde Two).  I am not sure that I have ever walked thirty miles let alone forty in one go.  I really must do a long distance walk sometime.  I know though, because our Ten Tors youngsters have told me, that 45 Miles is much, much more than 35 Miles but that the jumpy to 55 Miles doesn’t seem to be as quite as big.  Complicated, but you can see that the maths is already starting to not work (leave any numbers in our hands for long and they will deteriorate – it is because entropy increases when Blondes are around).

What I was actually pondering in this blog title was my swim this morning.  I would like to tell you that it was somewhere wild and Dartmoory but nothing as adventurous as that I am afraid (although there did seem to be rather more plasters, toe nails and floating bits of hair in the pool than usual).  Anyway, my swim is usually thirty lengths long.  It only takes me twenty minutes these days, partly because the doc advised me against breast stroking (I think he was talking about swimming) with my dodgy knees and I have to do continuous front crawl (faster but tough on the arms).  This morning’s swim was forty lengths long – obviously there was a Blonde reason for this.  I wanted to see what it felt like to swim a kilometre.  I had read about two Dartmoor Rescue chaps who are planning to swim sixteen kilometres in the sea today to raise a bit of money – you can read about their challenge and even join in with a sneaky donation here

And here we get down to the reason for all of this Blonde blather … I discovered that forty lengths is a disproportionate amount more than thirty lengths.  I could do thirty in my sleep but that last ten, boy did they test me.  I am not sure I could manage sixteen kilometres in pool, sea or puddle but, being Blonde, and having got the idea into my head, I am not satisfied with my single kilometre and want to go for a whole mile next!