There are only eight days to go until I attempt my next stupid challenge and I’m not reluctant to tell you that I’m nervous.

When I signed up to the Macmillan Cancer Relief Mighty Hike from Keswick to Ambleside all those months ago because Dianne “fancied” it, I thought “ahhhh, plenty of time to train”.

We kept talking about it, without actually doing anything (because that still counts, right?) and then all of a sudden it was nearly Easter.

“We’ll get Easter out the way, then start,” we decided.

We managed a walk up Sale Fell, mainly due to the organisational skills of Jane, which made us feel good about ourselves, then carried on just talking about training.

Meanwhile, Lisa had managed to get out and train for her charity walk – the Moonlight Walk in London, which she conquered like a true champion.

Being a farmer, she lives in the middle of nowhere and lambing season means we never really see her then as she’s too busy being all James Herriot.

So, although I could have made the effort to train with her, my idle gene stopped me.

What is also irritating me is an acquaintance on Facebook.

She is also doing the walk and is an avid and active user of the old FB.

As a result, I have had to put up with her daily progress diary (video, no less!) of how many miles she’s walked and how much money she’s raised.

It’s making me grumble to myself as I scroll up and down my timeline. But my irritation is irrational.

She’s doing so well and I’m annoyed because she’s raking the dough in – I think I’ve posted twice and half-heartedly asked people in the office for cash.

Actually, scrub the word irrational and replace it with jealousy.

So, anyway, we decided that there was enough procrastination going on and agreed to walk from Cockermouth, through Setmurthy Woods to the Lakes Distillery and back again.

We thought it would be a great training route and the distillery would be an amazing incentive to make us carry on.

We took Dianne’s dog Max and my husband. They’re both good off the lead.

It was a lovely walk and as we approached the distillery, we all felt quite smug.

It was a beautiful night and we sat outside, deciding to treat ourselves to a pudding and a coffee.

We talked about ordering a taxi home. I think we were only half joking.

The walk back wasn’t as pleasant, mainly because my faithful walking boots have decided to betray me and rub my feet raw.

So now I have three more blisters to add to the two from the other week.

It’s a good job I bumped into Adele Holmes from Cockermouth.

She’s a chiropodist and I immediately asked for footcare advice, which I know is rude in a social situation but she didn’t really mind and gave me the lowdown.

If she helps my poor tootsies through this walk, I’ll be forever grateful.