Well, dressing up as Wonderwoman was one of those things. I could do it to mark World Ovarian Cancer Day, turn myself from One Woman walking into Wonderwoman walking. Geddit? It would be funny, I thought. It would attract attention, people would shove fistfuls of money into my donation tin, attracted by my cheery grin and dashing bravery. I'd manage another first for this journey; in addition to going home with people I met in pubs or knocking on doors to ask strangers for hospitality, this time I'd wilfully embarrass myself. Everyone wins. But somehow, while carrying the outfit in my rucksack, I never managed to sit up in the morning and think "Today is the day I will dress as Wonderwoman."
So I put the question to Facebook. A helpful nudge in the right direction; I work well to deadlines. The people voted that Chester would be the day; great, I thought. More people means more donations, right? I'll attract crowds! All dying to know what I'm doing! Symptoms awareness! Money for charity!
I woke up that morning on the verandah of a closed up holiday chalet. I knew that bad weather was on the way so I dressed quickly and was off before 7am, managing about 45 minutes of walking before a rumble of thunder passed overhead, suddenly there was a flutter of rain and then hail! In June! I got soaked, kept on for the six miles into Chester and then......anticlimax.
It didn't happen. People ignored me. Somehow I had crossed the line from 'different and interesting' to 'wierd and must ignore'. Nobody asked what I was doing, much less put any donations in the tin. I felt deflated and silly after about an hour in the centre of town I gave up, walked into a pub toilet and got changed. It made a good story anyway.
I'll do it again I think; because I like being an idiot. But maybe not in an English city. And hopefully I'll have someone walking with me that day. It's always easier to be a fool when someone's laughing with you.
Donations are up to about 4000 pounds so I reckon when I hit 5000 Wonderwoman will be GO!