The Walker With Heart

Let's get the apologies out of the way first, this blog post is in no way a criticism of anyone who likes to call themselves by these names, or indeed calls their children by these names, or indeed siblings, cousins, etc etc etc... It is the musings of me, on what some people have called me. There's an odd thing about names, they're given to you at birth and you are (in the main) stuck with them; nicknames can come and go (yes, I will always be Polo to some), but without deed poll or marriage (for half the population) we tend to be stuck with what we're given. Letters after the name we earn, or go through a lengthy nomination and selection process for others... So why do people decide I'm a " heart warrior "... I know warriors, I grew up in Aldershot and Sandhurst, I respect and admire many of them and am terrified of a few of them.  What I do know is they don't don't fight all the time, they can't they'd burn out.  If I tried to figh...

My thighs are slightly sore... I'd dodged the rookie error and made sure the "ruby" studs on the garter bit of my fishnets were facing out, rather than in... However, the hold-up section had to go under the shorts, which had two effects, my shorts wanting to slide down and mild chaffing from the "suspender" straps. All of which is nothing compared with the pain and trauma that my mate Tim and others go through when being treated for cancer, and if me looking like Walt Disney's worst nightmare helps raise a few more quid then so be it. The run was fine, well organised and had the theme of being a Winter Run aided by the occasional flurry of snow, given where I am in my training I'm even happy with the time - 74 min is a long way off my best, but as I overheated going up hills and got cold on anything where the wind cut through I'm chuffed, as well as chaffed. I seemed to attract some attention - small children did recognise me as Snow Wh...

Mindful running is that beautiful moment of connection between body, mind and environment... You breathe, rotate your feet and absorb the outdoors in a flowing experience which is the closest I've ever had to a religious experience (and I'm an aggressive atheist). You seem to just be one, gliding through time and space; your watch is forgotten, your target pace is forgotten, your body tells you what's right and that's what it does. Sometimes this feeling lasts an entire run, sometimes it's fleeting like sunshine on a cloudy day... And, for me at least, its as rare as hens teeth. Thursday was the other extreme, an as valuable extreme for other reasons... The sun set and I was still at my desk, a bad day of dealing with idiots and nincompoops, playing political games I wish others had grown out of, and generally being a grump. The time came, the laptop went off and almost on cue the first rain of the day hit the windows.  The kit went on, and I went out. ...

As I've said in other places, it's been a poor year in running terms.  I started the year with a form of viral bronchial infection, moved through fighting my lack of umpph, then just as things were settling down I got sent flying by a berk on a bike and have ended up with a permanently scarred knee, and then as things were getting better again, an infected elbow.  However, I managed to do all but one of my planned runs, and also fitted in two long distance paths - the Speyside Way and St Cuthbert's Way.  Mad Dog 5: Game of Bones… The run with the same title as a porn version of Game of Thrones… It’s a classic, the run, not the film…  Cambridge Half… The run with my mad friends and their mad friends – and they’re all lovely… as is the traditional scotch egg the day before the run, and free (non-alcoholic) beer at the finish National Trust Night Run – the run was around a Tudor estate, and the medal glows in the dark… need I say more? ...

It's been a bad year for running... Between hideous coughs that threatened to make my lungs come up, smashed and bloody knees and a general nagging feeling of being blurgh my running, by my standards hasn't been brilliant... However, my fastest half marathon on the hills of Liverpool, two other halves that showed what I could do without much training... an obstacle color run... and a lot of fun. Which did lead to an interesting chat with my cardiologist, I don't think he's met many runners who sit there and say "I've had a bad year of running... but that means three half marathons, a handful of 10k's... oh and a couple of long distance paths". Knowing what I can do means this year does hurt, a bit... A marathon downgraded to a 16 miler due to the knee and then a DNS due to the migraine hurts in terms of a run not done. However, it's still three half marathons, two long distance paths walked and a lot of fun - and I can remember the years wh...

There is something special about crossing things, the transition between one state and another, not being in one place or another... in this case plenty of interesting river crossings, a pilgrims path across a causeway and the border between Scotland and England. The Great North Run, that fixed point in space and time I return to for the craic if not in expectation of running well, has crossing - the magnificence of the Tyne Bridge, the switch from motorway to A road (trust me, you might not notice but your legs do) and from land to sea as you finish on the coast. Following the knee incident, I've not been able to run much, if anything... So, the plan for the GNR was to get around - and I did.  Sunburned and battered from the congestion but I got around.  Not fast, but ok for me on a baking hot day with no training. Then it was back to the caravan, and set the alarms for before dawn - five hours travelling to Melrose was only downside of my plan to go straight from run t...

There is a good reason to leave the blogging of a long walk a week and a bit, the highs are less high and the lows are less low.  The born-tired weariness has left the body, the blisters are well on the way to healing, and the clothes are in the wash... So, I have notes from each day and some bits I will be emailing the guidebook people and the mapping people... Day 1 - Aviemore to Nethy Bridge 12 miles, a gloriously sunny day that was only marred by Scotrail being very uncomfortable and late. A simple walk along a disused railway, alongside a working steam rain (to Boat of Garten) and then a wander through Caledonian forest and plantations.  The views in places were superb... Looking back there was still snow in the corries of the mountains, and as I wandered I saw my first deer of the week. The walking was easy trails, navigation was fine - apart from the pylons having moved since the book was written... Nethy Bridge took me to the Lazy Duck hostel, imagine ...