Long walk: in training

Back in May, I spent a fabulous day with Karl and several of our Mother Nature's Diet colleagues on a long hike in the Wiltshire countryside. The 12.25 miles we achieved that day was the longest walk I'd done in several decades.

One of my aims for this list being 'to walk a marathon', I booked myself onto a 25 km (approx 15 mile) sponsored walk for September. I decided a couple of training walks of that sort of duration were in order, so asked among the group on Facebook if anyone wanted to join me. As a couple of friends are up for a long walk on 3 September, I reckoned that I needed to try out said walk before I dragged anyone else around it.

Today was that try-out day. Having discovered the very useful GriffMonster site, giving lots of different walks around the country but specialising in East Anglia, I selected a circular walk of around 13 miles, starting in the rather nice (and very smart) market town of Holt, walking through Kelling Heath and up to the edge of the marshes at Salthouse. I drove the hour from the east coast to Holt, parked in the main car park, and set off at about 11am.

It was, unlike recent weeks, a rather cool and cloudy day when I started out. I left the town centre and passed the impressive Greshams school, walking up the Cromer road for about a mile. The route then turned off the main thoroughfare, passing some houses in a quiet unmade road on the outskirts of town, and bringing the walker into the Kelling Heath Holiday Park. Plenty of holidaymakers in there, of course, and many walking the forest paths. It took me a couple of attempts to find the correct path up onto the heath out of the camp (my sense of direction is not the best!) but once there,  I was into one of the most enjoyable parts of the walk. The fabulous North Norfolk railway, complete with genuine steam trains, passes through the Heath, and makes you expect a visit from Jenny Agutter at any time - and the tiny station stop has a glorious view of the sea. A complex network of paths meanders through gorse and heather.

After crossing the main road just outside Kelling, I followed the footpath northwards towards the marshes at Salthouse. I realised that I'd overshot the turning that the route took to the left across the fields and retraced my steps to find it. Despite the footpath being clearly marked on the map, there was no point that appeared to be accessible, presumably due to the heavy foliage growth in the summer. So I continued northwards and instead followed the alternative footpath closer to the marshes, which brought me in to the same place anyway.

Being around 7 miles into the walk by this time, it was time to pause for refreshment. I knew from previous visits that the centre of the village included the splendid Cookie's - a cafe and deli specialising in all kinds of seafood. 

I bought a delicious dressed crab and retired to the grass next to the stream.

After resting for about half an hour, off I went again. I managed to find the tiny footpath just up the road from the Dun Cow pub; this path emerged across the middle of the crop fields, running parallel with the marshes and giving beautiful views towards the distant sea. By now the clouds had mostly lifted and the day was much warmer.

The path then turns sharp left and continues for about a mile along the edge of the fields before emerging onto a quiet road. I stopped briefly at the junction for breath and to enjoy the splendid view of the sea between the trees. 

The main road finally dips into the forest. Unfortunately there is no footpath through the forest that I could find; it's densely wooded and covered with ferns, so the safest place to walk was along the road. From here, the last 2-3 miles down back into Holt are mostly on the road, except for a short length of footpath, cutting behind the first residential area of the town.

I arrived back at the car park, a bit footsore but very happy with my achievement, around 4pm. I had plenty of time to change out of walking trousers, guzzle lots more water and gear up for the hour's drive home. According to my OutDoors app, which I'd used for the route for this excursion (and was later able to export to my usual Runkeeper), 13.2 miles (which happens to be my total mileage for the whole of the previous week), 983 calories burned (apparently) and well ahead of the game on this month's 70 mile target. Oh, and an average pace of around 3 miles per hour, which isn't bad for the distance and some fairly rough and narrow paths around the fields.

When I started the walk I was a bit dubious about it being interesting enough for other folks joining me on my next 'training walk'. However, I think that the lovely Kelling Heath; the splendid railway; the option to walk down to the beach at Salthouse; the beautiful paths from Kelling, and the bonus of Salthouse itself, all more than compensate for some slightly dull residential bits for the first and last mile of the excursion. And now that I'm familiar with the path and less likely to need to retrace my steps and constantly check the phone, I'll be able to spend more time myself appreciating the beauties of the Big Norfolk Skies.

Budgie-hooping: loving it

As promised, I haven't posted about all my sessions - as my Circus Aerial Hooping is here to stay, rather than being a tick on the life-list. However, the occasional update will still sneak in...

This was my eleventh session. I was a bit apprehensive as it had been three weeks since the previous one (due to my own holiday and before that to the instructor's), so I knew I'd be out of practice. However, I was so pleased that I am still holding my own.

Much to my surprise, I am now managing to get into the hoop (most of the time) with minimal assistance from Jo & Dawn, and even to get up with a jump rather than 'stepping' (which is only possible when the hoop is low enough for that anyway). That seemed like an impossible dream when I started back in March.

Today's new pose was this one (the Gazelle, I think). Not as scary as I thought it would be!

I realised, as I walked back to the car park, that these sessions give me an incredible 'mood boost'. I mean, ANY exercise does that - scientific fact. But there's something about this activity - unusual, challenging, inclusive, joyful and a little crazy - that is really special. The folks that I work with are at a variety of different levels and standards, and we all encourage each other. And Jo & Dawn continue to be fabulous, patient tutors.

Long live the budgies.

The Bike: first try

I have absolutely no idea why it took so long. Way outside my comfort zone. Back on 1 May (yup, two months ago) my lovely BFG sorted out all the adjustments, got it all ready, gave me a lesson... then back it went into the garage. Until now.

Just back from a week's holiday and with a lot to do today. Called in to see mum, who seemed more interested in the fact that she'd run out of cigarettes than anything else. I promised I'd drop a single pack in later in the day and get her usual supply from the supermarket later.

To save time, once I'd got back home and picked up my purse, I decided to cycle down to the shop, back to mum's and back home. Just under a mile round trip. A bit wobbly. But OK. Nice day. New muscles to work.

The village is a nice quiet safe environment. Real roads may be a different matter.

Now I've started, there will be more.

Flashback: outdoor swimming

I knew I had it somewhere. The last time that I went outdoor swimming (as opposed to just splashing around)... I was entered into a junior race. In the sea at Margate. Not sure what time of the year, but it was clearly very cold. I'd bet quite a lot that I came last as usual. Mum towels me down while little sis looks smug that she didn't need to join in. I think this was around 1972, so I'm nine years old.

Reasons: do something useful

I'm doing all these daft things for my own pleasure / challenge / satisfaction. However, I also reckoned that I could be useful at the same time: a bit of sponsorship wouldn't go amiss.

So my "walk a marathon" target now includes an incremental event: walking across all the London bridges from Putney to Southwark (that's 25 km, about 15 miles). This is on Saturday 10th September, and I'm doing it in aid of Pancreatic Cancer UK. My initial target is the obligatory £125, but I'm very much hoping to be able to increase that once it's achieved.

Two very dear friends of mine were taken by this especially awful disease - a particularly cruel form of cancer, as it's so hard to detect in time for preventative measures to be taken. Both Alic and Peter were dead within two months of diagnosis. So anything that I can contribute, no matter how small, to research that may improve matters, will be an achievement.

If you feel that you'd like to support this present endeavour with this good cause in mind, please click here to visit my JustGiving page.

Thank you.

An amazing weekend

I'd decided quite a while ago that 'walking a marathon' would be on my list, and blogged about it here more recently (while watching the London Marathon). As such, some increased distances (over my regular 3-4 miles and maximum of around 5-6 miles) were definitely on the cards.

I've been an increasing enthusiast for the work of Karl Whitfield at Mother Nature's Diet for about eighteen months. He's an inspiring, enthusiastic, passionate advocate of healthy living, with an approach that's a superb combination of commonsense, motivation, his own experience, humour, inspiration and integrity. I 'found' him and his group on Facebook back in November 2014, as I was entering the final phase of my weight loss journey and the beginning of my improvement / maintenance / learning curve (you know, that one that lasts for the rest of your life).

Karl provides huge volumes of information, loads of support, advice and encouragement, seminars and webinars, and many more chances for learning and sharing. Among all these possibilities, every so often he arranges a 'walk and talk' day, and this is the first one I've been able to attend. This one was a walk of around 12 miles in wonderful hills, through fields and villages and beside rivers.

At some distance from my home in Norfolk (which, let's face it, most places are), this one was based near his own location in Wiltshire. So I combined the trip with a long-overdue visit to fellow professional organiser Clare, who lives in Oxfordshire, and was delighted when she agreed to join in with the mad weekend - even when it became clear that we'd be spending a night under canvas (this being another item on the life list).

Fourteen of us met by the duck-pond in the picture-postcard village of Biddestone on an improbably glorious May morning. Most were folks I'd met before on previous MND events, a few were new friends, and the 'talking' bit was as delightful as it always is. Here we all are before setting off.

Along the riverside we went, through fields full of buttercups, greeting cows and horses, between rows of nettles (tough on those who were wearing shorts!), over stiles and small bridges. There were also stunning avenues filled with beautiful, pungent wild garlic.

We paused for slower walkers to catch up; Karl obsessively counting every so often to ensure we were all still safely in the group. We stopped for group photographs every so often, including on 'the beach' - a fabulous corner of the stream.

Then, at roughly halfway, we stopped for lunch. We took our boots off to walk in the grass for the last few hundred yards, enjoying the feel of the grass under our bare feet, and sat by the stream (feet in for some of us!) before gathering round with our lunches. Getting going again was a bit of an effort!

After lunch there were more hills than in the earlier parts, including some pretty steep climbs; a particularly narrow path between more nettles (which Clare managed to do a spectacular prat-fall [her words] into, when she took her eyes off the path to look at the view). Most of us took a trip into some caves - fascinating and eerie. And we saw some of the local red kites circling.

Finally, after approximately 5 hours and ten minutes of walking (I paused the Runkeeper app for any major stops for breath or lunch), and a clocked distance of 12.25 miles, we returned to the green at Biddestone. The last couple of miles were quite an effort for all except the fittest of us, and the feet were sore; but the sense of achievement was tremendous - not to mention the camaraderie. We'd all learned, exchanged hugs and support and motivation, made and renewed friendships, and had the most amazing time.

So: I'm well on my way to my target of 'walk a marathon'. This walk was just a little under the distance of a half-marathon; my aim is to do a sponsored 25 km (15 mile) walk across the bridges of London, from Putney to London Bridge, in September; and then incrementally to increase my 'longest distance' so that I'm ready for the full 26+ miles at some point in 2017. Given that my previous longest distance EVER (except that 24 mile sponsored walk when I was just eleven years old) was around six miles, I'm pretty pleased with progress so far!

Thank you to the lovely Karl and all other members of the MND family for such a special day.

Full album here.

Under canvas

Camping's changed since I last tried it. As a Girl Guide (around 1974-1979) I went on camps from time to time; the tents were an incredibly heavy canvas with what seemed like an endless number of heavy pegs and complicated guy-ropes. On family holidays (in roughly the same period) we usually went to sites down the French west coast where the tents were already there for you - except on the couple of occasions when we used a trailer tent.

I decided that one of my challenges was to spend a night under canvas for the first time in nearly forty years. My now middle-aged back wouldn't cope with the lack of a mattress, so the blow-up variety was brought along. Not having the old sleeping bag any longer, I reckoned that a duvet would be enough (it wasn't!). And life was made much easier by the fact that the lovely Karl not only brought along his own spare two-man tent, but swiftly constructed the whole thing for us.

My friend Clare shared the tiny tent with me on the night before our twelve-mile hike in the Wiltshire countryside with the Mother Nature's Diet family. We were very fortunate with the weather, setting up one night and waking on the following morning to glorious sunshine. Fellow camper Jane wonderfully cooked banana omelettes for us all for breakfast, and Karl & Kerrie's little single-ring gas stoves boiled water for tea. There's nothing like camaraderie to enhance the great outdoors!

So how was it? The actual sleeping, in fact, wasn't comfortable; but that was my own fault for not investing in a new sleeping bag (even in May, one needed total cocooning). I was much too cold to sleep properly. Mercifully, I usually sleep so well that one poor night's sleep doesn't cause too much harm.The mattress was fine. I was pleasantly surprised that I wasn't spooked by the confined interior. The two-sink, two-loo, one-shower washroom was a bit cramped and spartan, but serviceable. And the experience of emerging into a quiet, slightly misty, sunny morning was delightful.

What would I do differently? Buy a sleeping-bag, obviously. Take a head-torch (much easier than trying to navigate with the iPhone torch in the middle of the night). Pack much lighter and ignore the fact that I look a bit ropey without makeup. Enjoy the world of nature for what it is and not try to adapt it to normal home comforts.

Oh, and one more thing. Having inflated the mattress using the lovely Kerrie's neat little gizmo that plugs into the car cigarette lighter attachment, we then discovered that it wouldn't actually fit through the door of the tent... quick deflation, both of ego and mattress! :)

Which implies that I'll give it another go? You bet.