And I have walked five hundred miles…

And I will walk five hundred more!
If you can manage it, this should really be sung in a very broad Scottish accent, or chanted, if singing is not your forte. And I can proclaim here and now that I have in fact walked more than five hundred miles. Seven hundred and forty-five point six four five miles to be exact, since the middle of March this year.

Yeah, I know I’ve talked about this subject before in this blog. My second ever post to be exact, about my new pet pedometer. But I’m going to talk about it again at the risk of boring you to death because I have once more reached the million steps mark. But this time I missed it!

From around nine hundred and fifty thousand steps I kept watching and waiting for that amazing moment when the tiny numbers would again miraculously change from all the nines to zero. A moment I imagined as similar to that new millenium feeling when we thought that anything might happen. That all the clocks would stop ticking, alarms start ringing, computers begin bugging then melting down into a slimy green puddle in the middle of our desks, and the world generally ceasing to exist as we had known it up till then.

Those of you old enough to remember will know that none of that actually occurred. At the last stroke of midnight we all just screamed “Happy New Year cum Millenium” and went back to doing what we had been doing the minute before. Drinking mostly, dancing maybe, stumbling about the place certainly. Nothing new, strange, exciting or different took place. Just the worst hangover ever, the morning after, to remind us that this year was going to be a big one and this day was going to be hell.

Weirdly I also thought something extraordinary was going to happen at my second-time-around million-step moment. Maybe someone would rush up to me in the street with a gold-plated medal on a ribbon? Or I would be presented with a gushing bottle of champagne by a tall blonde girl in a tight yellow polka-dot dress? Or perhaps I would just feel that my own Everest summit had been reached once more and that I would stick a second OMG flag into the fluffy white snow at my feet.

None of that! Why? Because I didn’t even notice. I just went upstairs as usual last night, took little Peddie out of my pocket, clicked on the total steps button to check progress and saw 6579. Click, click, click. I must have made a mistake. The same number appeared in the total steps section. Drat and double drat. No fireworks, trumpeting horns or applause. Nuffink. I had become a millionaire again with no-one ringing at my door holding the big fat cheque.

So as we did on January the 1st 2000, I went to bed, slept off the disappointment and the anticlimax (without the splitting headache), got up this morning and set off again down the road towards the next million.

But this time I am singing, not clinging to the box of Alka-Seltzer. Stomping along the street and singing along in time with my steps – I’m on my way from misery to happiness today. Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh!img_0326

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