Zombies, Run! The Part where Will Smith Pops by to Lend a Hand

Just been dog walking and used 257 calories!!! Seriously the 'Zombie Run!' App is quite addictive, you get into the story & forget that you are actually exercising as well. Though it is a bit freaky walking along the side of the burn in the dark with a German shepherd, hearing zombie noises on your headphones & the odd cracking branch that you step on.

If you haven't watched 'I am Legend' then you won't understand why I kept expecting Will Smith to appear & have to break my dogs neck!!!! Nooooooo my poor Bon!

Im not saying for one minute that I am a complete scaredy cat but I will freely admit that when I plugged myself into my iPhone and started the app it was very easy to get immersed in the storyline.

The beauty of this is that you don't actually notice how far or long you have been exercising. It's part story, part exercise app, part game. The story begins with you in a helicopter on a secret mission about to land in Abel Township.

Abel Township is a small outpost of survivors from the zombie apocalypse and as you'd imagine they need supplies and all sorts of stuff. So it's a bit unlucky when someone, somewhere shoots down your helicopter.

Whoops, it's now time to run for your life cause those zombies heard the crash and are on their way over to you now.

Getting back to base becomes your 1st mission. In short you get a bit of story and chat from Sam Yao who is the comms guy. He will help you navigate round the zombies so you don't get eaten.

A quick word of warning though, make sure you have a suitable playlist, because I didn't. When the Sam finishes his part of the story 'invisible light' by the Scissor Sisters only served to heighten my tension.

At random intervals throughout your playlist you hear that you have picked up a first aid kit or other useful item for Abel Township, these can be given to the township after your exercise session.

When your tune finishes you get some more of Naomi Alderman's story. This is the way that the app goes. You start the mission, get a bit of story, pick up some supplies on the way, listen to your playlist and keep exercising until you either finish the mission then you can distribute your booty to the hospital, recreation area or wherever you see fit in order to grown the township.

It's a super story and I'm getting really quite into it if I'm honest, which can only be a good thing, I mean, if Six to Start and Naomi Alderman can encourage me to get of my behind and move then I reckon it would work for anyone who likes a good story.

Dave Shepherd, the Dog Who Rescued Me

I want another rescue dog. To be honest, I'm not really fussy what type, size or age it is. I just know that I want one.

It all started in the early 90s when I was living on my own and working as an assistant manager in a nightclub. This led to the usual threats of physical violence and verbal abuse.

Rather than admit I was a bit of a coward, I remembered what had been said to my mum when she had a stalker. 'Get a big dog, cause even if the dog won't do anything to an intruder, it's sometimes enough to put them off,' so with this ringing in my ears, I called around a couple of dog shelters, cause quite frankly I couldn't be arsed with training and anyway I wanted a dog now, not a puppy.

And so began my love affair with rescue dogs.

I will freely admit that having a teenage German shepherd sometimes led us to have arguments with each other. Like for example he would scavenge and rake for chocolate and had the ability to sniff it out wherever it was. So I would scold him, send him to his bed and refuse to speak to him. On other occasions, he would get annoyed at me for being later home and duly crap on the floor 3 minutes after a walk.

We got round that and to be frank, I was young and he was too. But he was my best friend, he knew my secrets, my weaknesses, my strengths, he understood when I was unwell and wouldn't pull on the lead. I knew when he was off colour or needing a cuddle right up till he had to be put to sleep. I didn't even know he was unwell.

My darling dog had hidden his illness from me when I was pregnant, as if he didn't want me to worry about him.

I cried for him for days and sometimes still do. I'd lost my hero. We shared everything from bottles of water to McDonald's Happy Meals, cuddles, tears and fights.

Later on we got another dog from a stray dog shelter, a shepherd cross type collie looking old guy. I called him Dave, cause, well, he looked like a Dave. Dave was old, moth-eaten, foosty, had missing teeth and breath like a pirate and I loved him to bits. I would grimace and adore him simultaneously as he took a drink of water and dribbled water for yards as he walked away from the bowl, soaking the carpet as he went.

I loved his grey whiskers and muzzle, like he had stuck his face in an icing sugar bag.

If Dave had been human, he would've worn a sheepskin jacket, drunk pints of heavy or Newcastle Brown and had a whiskey chaser. Dave would've nipped out to the 'bookies' to put a line on and bought the 'barmaid' a magazine and a strawberry tart to look after her. He would always have been polite, very old school and not allowed any of the younger guys to swear in front of a lady.

He had many of the same traits as my 1st dog. He was perfect. A gentleman. A joy.

At some point after we got another rescue dog, she was in the same place as Dave when I found him. Bon was a bit of an accident, I really wasn't actually looking for another dog, but I saw her and my heart went out to her furry coat didn't know what to do with itself and she had a squint ear. Kicked out cause she was pregnant, she had given birth to puppies in the shelter. This had left her a bit neurotic and a bit skinny. She was young and just what Dave needed.

She gave him life and energy and he chilled her out, taught her how to behave properly, relax, play games and find a good spot in the garden to lie in.

Bon was just as devastated as us when Dave didn't return from the vets that day, she paced and slept in his favourite places, as if to get closer to him. I slept with his collar under my pillow and she slept with his blanket on the couch.

So why should I want another oldie?

I know we only had Dave for few years, but it was worth every single minute. I rescued him and he rescued me right back. He would follow me around like a shadow, lie at my side of the bed and not leave my side if I was unwell.

Dave didn't eat the couch or chew my Louboutins, he didn't cost me a fortune in vets bills, he was undemanding and understanding. Dave was excited to see us when we came in, he never answered back and never told me that my arse looked fat. I could take him anywhere and know that he wouldn't disgrace me. Kids adored him, grown ups always looked at him and said 'Awh, you've a big heart to adopt a dog that old' with their heads on the side in the pose that said they felt sorry for me. Truth is, I felt sorry for them, they didn't have Dave.

I miss Dave as much as my 1st dog. Yeah, I feel slightly cheated that we only had a couple of years together but, they were the best ever.

So in honour of Dave Shepherd, consider a rescue dog or a rescue oldie, they will still make your life complete but without all the major hassles of a puppy.