I'm not certain of what to say today. I've been walking for almost 200 days, since the 2nd of March. I've covered 1360 miles, give or take. I'm tired. There's no way of getting around it. I need lie-ins, afternoon naps and early nights, every day. Of course I don't get them, especially the afternoon naps and I manage about one of the other two every day.
Everything seems the same, I seem to have stopped feeling and, instead, focused on doing. Last night I walked around the Great Orme until I came to a shelter that overlooked the Conwy estuary. I had a view of Snowdonia, Anglesey and the Conwy Bay as the sun set and the sky above the mountains turned gentle lilac as the moon rose. Did I sit and wonder at the beauty of the world, thinking about how lucky I am to be doing this, how I'd much rather be here than anywhere else. Nope, I read my book, checked the internet, took some photos, rubbed my feet and, once it got dark, laid down for a tolerable nights sleep on a bench.
I'm not saying I'm actively disliking it, when I think about the alternative, which is to stop; to return to Machynlleth and pick up the strings of work and social life again, there's nowhere else I'd rather be, nothing else I'd rather be doing than camping and walking but the euphoria has gone. The thrill of the new has faded, the excitement has worn off a little.
It feels sometimes as if the days are all the same, I wake up somewhere strange, I walk, all day, stopping to rest my feet, eat food, read a book, stare into space. I reach the end of the day, eat more food, rub my feet again and sleep, trying and always failing to get enough rest to do the same thing the next day without feeling tired.
I'm not sure whether I'm stomping along with a frown on my face, making less eye contact or maybe it's summer so tourists ask less questions of people with rucksacks but I don't seem to have as many conversations when I pass through towns. I do have quite a stomp when I get going, it's not neccessarily fast but it is a definite stride.
After all this complaining, the next thing I must tell you is that I'm going to extend the walk - hah hah hah.
Yes, I've been putting the decision off all summer. Since I injured myself, back in May, and had to take a break and then walk short days, I've known there would be no chance I could complete 3000 miles by the end of September when I'm due to be back in hospital, or 3300 miles by the end of October, when I'm due to go back to work. My plan when I started the walk was to go 20 miles a day for the majority of the eight months I allowed myself to do this. A thoroughly unrealistic target, I recognise now.
I kept thinking I'd decide at the end of the summer, but I've always known what I want to do. I want to keep going. I want to finish the target I've set myself, even if it takes a year. I want to keep walking and not stop, not through the autumn and not through the winter. I don't want to give up and go home. It's not enough. How can I only walk half of Wales? How can I finish before I've walked around Anglesey? Or the Pembrokeshire coast? Or to the top of Snowdon? If I stop now, the walk will be incomplete, I really really want to keep going.
So I've been collecting winter kit. I'm writing this in my smart, long sleeved, merino wool top. Get me. Someone off the internet might give me a tent, otherwise I'm going to buy one. Yes, a tent. That'll make a difference to my camping abilities.
I've even had my boots sent up from Bristol and I'm trying them out instead of the fell running shoes I've been wearing for the last 1000 miles. They're good actually, less pain in some ways and they definitely help my ankles. I'm going to see a physio today, for the first time since I started. I'll have a good massage and hopefully some advice about what's happening to the different parts of my feet and what I should do about it.
Next week I've decided to take 5 days off, to go and housesit for some friends. It will be the first time I've had more than one day at a time, with which to do nothing, in four months. I may have had time away from the walk in that period but always busy time. This week I will try and sleep, rest and relax my aching body.
First, before the housesitting, there's the small matter of crossing Snowdonia. Hah. Yes, I'm setting off to cross the Carneddau, the Glyders and Snowdon before Sunday. The next path I'm following is the Cambrian Way, also known as the mountain conisseur's route. It follows a straight up and down path across all the highest points of Wales, from Snowdonia to Plynlimon and the Cambrian range and down through the Brecon Beacons and the Black Mountains. It will be a challenge, that is for sure. I'm not too worried though, my ability to sleep anywhere helps a lot, I don't have to worry about getting all the way up and all the way down each mountain in a day. I can sleep at the top, or halfway up, or even halfway down, ho ho. I'll just approach the mountains as I've done the rest of it. Slow, steady, you'll get there in the end. One of a group of men I met on the Offa's Dyke Path told me how to climb steep slopes - Just take tiny steps and don't stop. He's right, it helps. Somehow, while rarely feeling capable of doing so, I have walked more than 1300 miles. Good eh?
This doesn't feel like a very coherent piece of writing; but perhaps I don't have a very coherent brain at the moment. Let's see how the resting helps.
Everything seems the same, I seem to have stopped feeling and, instead, focused on doing. Last night I walked around the Great Orme until I came to a shelter that overlooked the Conwy estuary. I had a view of Snowdonia, Anglesey and the Conwy Bay as the sun set and the sky above the mountains turned gentle lilac as the moon rose. Did I sit and wonder at the beauty of the world, thinking about how lucky I am to be doing this, how I'd much rather be here than anywhere else. Nope, I read my book, checked the internet, took some photos, rubbed my feet and, once it got dark, laid down for a tolerable nights sleep on a bench.
I'm not saying I'm actively disliking it, when I think about the alternative, which is to stop; to return to Machynlleth and pick up the strings of work and social life again, there's nowhere else I'd rather be, nothing else I'd rather be doing than camping and walking but the euphoria has gone. The thrill of the new has faded, the excitement has worn off a little.
It feels sometimes as if the days are all the same, I wake up somewhere strange, I walk, all day, stopping to rest my feet, eat food, read a book, stare into space. I reach the end of the day, eat more food, rub my feet again and sleep, trying and always failing to get enough rest to do the same thing the next day without feeling tired.
I'm not sure whether I'm stomping along with a frown on my face, making less eye contact or maybe it's summer so tourists ask less questions of people with rucksacks but I don't seem to have as many conversations when I pass through towns. I do have quite a stomp when I get going, it's not neccessarily fast but it is a definite stride.
After all this complaining, the next thing I must tell you is that I'm going to extend the walk - hah hah hah.
Yes, I've been putting the decision off all summer. Since I injured myself, back in May, and had to take a break and then walk short days, I've known there would be no chance I could complete 3000 miles by the end of September when I'm due to be back in hospital, or 3300 miles by the end of October, when I'm due to go back to work. My plan when I started the walk was to go 20 miles a day for the majority of the eight months I allowed myself to do this. A thoroughly unrealistic target, I recognise now.
I kept thinking I'd decide at the end of the summer, but I've always known what I want to do. I want to keep going. I want to finish the target I've set myself, even if it takes a year. I want to keep walking and not stop, not through the autumn and not through the winter. I don't want to give up and go home. It's not enough. How can I only walk half of Wales? How can I finish before I've walked around Anglesey? Or the Pembrokeshire coast? Or to the top of Snowdon? If I stop now, the walk will be incomplete, I really really want to keep going.
So I've been collecting winter kit. I'm writing this in my smart, long sleeved, merino wool top. Get me. Someone off the internet might give me a tent, otherwise I'm going to buy one. Yes, a tent. That'll make a difference to my camping abilities.
I've even had my boots sent up from Bristol and I'm trying them out instead of the fell running shoes I've been wearing for the last 1000 miles. They're good actually, less pain in some ways and they definitely help my ankles. I'm going to see a physio today, for the first time since I started. I'll have a good massage and hopefully some advice about what's happening to the different parts of my feet and what I should do about it.
Next week I've decided to take 5 days off, to go and housesit for some friends. It will be the first time I've had more than one day at a time, with which to do nothing, in four months. I may have had time away from the walk in that period but always busy time. This week I will try and sleep, rest and relax my aching body.
First, before the housesitting, there's the small matter of crossing Snowdonia. Hah. Yes, I'm setting off to cross the Carneddau, the Glyders and Snowdon before Sunday. The next path I'm following is the Cambrian Way, also known as the mountain conisseur's route. It follows a straight up and down path across all the highest points of Wales, from Snowdonia to Plynlimon and the Cambrian range and down through the Brecon Beacons and the Black Mountains. It will be a challenge, that is for sure. I'm not too worried though, my ability to sleep anywhere helps a lot, I don't have to worry about getting all the way up and all the way down each mountain in a day. I can sleep at the top, or halfway up, or even halfway down, ho ho. I'll just approach the mountains as I've done the rest of it. Slow, steady, you'll get there in the end. One of a group of men I met on the Offa's Dyke Path told me how to climb steep slopes - Just take tiny steps and don't stop. He's right, it helps. Somehow, while rarely feeling capable of doing so, I have walked more than 1300 miles. Good eh?
This doesn't feel like a very coherent piece of writing; but perhaps I don't have a very coherent brain at the moment. Let's see how the resting helps.
I'm not certain of what to say today. I've been walking for almost 200 days, since the 2nd of March. I've covered 1360 miles, give or take. I'm tired. There's no way of getting around it. I need lie-ins, afternoon naps and early nights, every day. Of course I don't get them, especially the afternoon naps and I manage about one of the other two every day.
Everything seems the same, I seem to have stopped feeling and, instead, focused on doing. Last night I walked around the Great Orme until I came to a shelter that overlooked the Conwy estuary. I had a view of Snowdonia, Anglesey and the Conwy Bay as the sun set and the sky above the mountains turned gentle lilac as the moon rose. Did I sit and wonder at the beauty of the world, thinking about how lucky I am to be doing this, how I'd much rather be here than anywhere else. Nope, I read my book, checked the internet, took some photos, rubbed my feet and, once it got dark, laid down for a tolerable nights sleep on a bench.
I'm not saying I'm actively disliking it, when I think about the alternative, which is to stop; to return to Machynlleth and pick up the strings of work and social life again, there's nowhere else I'd rather be, nothing else I'd rather be doing than camping and walking but the euphoria has gone. The thrill of the new has faded, the excitement has worn off a little.
It feels sometimes as if the days are all the same, I wake up somewhere strange, I walk, all day, stopping to rest my feet, eat food, read a book, stare into space. I reach the end of the day, eat more food, rub my feet again and sleep, trying and always failing to get enough rest to do the same thing the next day without feeling tired.
I'm not sure whether I'm stomping along with a frown on my face, making less eye contact or maybe it's summer so tourists ask less questions of people with rucksacks but I don't seem to have as many conversations when I pass through towns. I do have quite a stomp when I get going, it's not neccessarily fast but it is a definite stride.
After all this complaining, the next thing I must tell you is that I'm going to extend the walk - hah hah hah.
Yes, I've been putting the decision off all summer. Since I injured myself, back in May, and had to take a break and then walk short days, I've known there would be no chance I could complete 3000 miles by the end of September when I'm due to be back in hospital, or 3300 miles by the end of October, when I'm due to go back to work. My plan when I started the walk was to go 20 miles a day for the majority of the eight months I allowed myself to do this. A thoroughly unrealistic target, I recognise now.
I kept thinking I'd decide at the end of the summer, but I've always known what I want to do. I want to keep going. I want to finish the target I've set myself, even if it takes a year. I want to keep walking and not stop, not through the autumn and not through the winter. I don't want to give up and go home. It's not enough. How can I only walk half of Wales? How can I finish before I've walked around Anglesey? Or the Pembrokeshire coast? Or to the top of Snowdon? If I stop now, the walk will be incomplete, I really really want to keep going.
So I've been collecting winter kit. I'm writing this in my smart, long sleeved, merino wool top. Get me. Someone off the internet might give me a tent, otherwise I'm going to buy one. Yes, a tent. That'll make a difference to my camping abilities.
I've even had my boots sent up from Bristol and I'm trying them out instead of the fell running shoes I've been wearing for the last 1000 miles. They're good actually, less pain in some ways and they definitely help my ankles. I'm going to see a physio today, for the first time since I started. I'll have a good massage and hopefully some advice about what's happening to the different parts of my feet and what I should do about it.
Next week I've decided to take 5 days off, to go and housesit for some friends. It will be the first time I've had more than one day at a time, with which to do nothing, in four months. I may have had time away from the walk in that period but always busy time. This week I will try and sleep, rest and relax my aching body.
First, before the housesitting, there's the small matter of crossing Snowdonia. Hah. Yes, I'm setting off to cross the Carneddau, the Glyders and Snowdon before Sunday. The next path I'm following is the Cambrian Way, also known as the mountain conisseur's route. It follows a straight up and down path across all the highest points of Wales, from Snowdonia to Plynlimon and the Cambrian range and down through the Brecon Beacons and the Black Mountains. It will be a challenge, that is for sure. I'm not too worried though, my ability to sleep anywhere helps a lot, I don't have to worry about getting all the way up and all the way down each mountain in a day. I can sleep at the top, or halfway up, or even halfway down, ho ho. I'll just approach the mountains as I've done the rest of it. Slow, steady, you'll get there in the end. One of a group of men I met on the Offa's Dyke Path told me how to climb steep slopes - Just take tiny steps and don't stop. He's right, it helps. Somehow, while rarely feeling capable of doing so, I have walked more than 1300 miles. Good eh?
This doesn't feel like a very coherent piece of writing; but perhaps I don't have a very coherent brain at the moment. Let's see how the resting helps.
Everything seems the same, I seem to have stopped feeling and, instead, focused on doing. Last night I walked around the Great Orme until I came to a shelter that overlooked the Conwy estuary. I had a view of Snowdonia, Anglesey and the Conwy Bay as the sun set and the sky above the mountains turned gentle lilac as the moon rose. Did I sit and wonder at the beauty of the world, thinking about how lucky I am to be doing this, how I'd much rather be here than anywhere else. Nope, I read my book, checked the internet, took some photos, rubbed my feet and, once it got dark, laid down for a tolerable nights sleep on a bench.
I'm not saying I'm actively disliking it, when I think about the alternative, which is to stop; to return to Machynlleth and pick up the strings of work and social life again, there's nowhere else I'd rather be, nothing else I'd rather be doing than camping and walking but the euphoria has gone. The thrill of the new has faded, the excitement has worn off a little.
It feels sometimes as if the days are all the same, I wake up somewhere strange, I walk, all day, stopping to rest my feet, eat food, read a book, stare into space. I reach the end of the day, eat more food, rub my feet again and sleep, trying and always failing to get enough rest to do the same thing the next day without feeling tired.
I'm not sure whether I'm stomping along with a frown on my face, making less eye contact or maybe it's summer so tourists ask less questions of people with rucksacks but I don't seem to have as many conversations when I pass through towns. I do have quite a stomp when I get going, it's not neccessarily fast but it is a definite stride.
After all this complaining, the next thing I must tell you is that I'm going to extend the walk - hah hah hah.
Yes, I've been putting the decision off all summer. Since I injured myself, back in May, and had to take a break and then walk short days, I've known there would be no chance I could complete 3000 miles by the end of September when I'm due to be back in hospital, or 3300 miles by the end of October, when I'm due to go back to work. My plan when I started the walk was to go 20 miles a day for the majority of the eight months I allowed myself to do this. A thoroughly unrealistic target, I recognise now.
I kept thinking I'd decide at the end of the summer, but I've always known what I want to do. I want to keep going. I want to finish the target I've set myself, even if it takes a year. I want to keep walking and not stop, not through the autumn and not through the winter. I don't want to give up and go home. It's not enough. How can I only walk half of Wales? How can I finish before I've walked around Anglesey? Or the Pembrokeshire coast? Or to the top of Snowdon? If I stop now, the walk will be incomplete, I really really want to keep going.
So I've been collecting winter kit. I'm writing this in my smart, long sleeved, merino wool top. Get me. Someone off the internet might give me a tent, otherwise I'm going to buy one. Yes, a tent. That'll make a difference to my camping abilities.
I've even had my boots sent up from Bristol and I'm trying them out instead of the fell running shoes I've been wearing for the last 1000 miles. They're good actually, less pain in some ways and they definitely help my ankles. I'm going to see a physio today, for the first time since I started. I'll have a good massage and hopefully some advice about what's happening to the different parts of my feet and what I should do about it.
Next week I've decided to take 5 days off, to go and housesit for some friends. It will be the first time I've had more than one day at a time, with which to do nothing, in four months. I may have had time away from the walk in that period but always busy time. This week I will try and sleep, rest and relax my aching body.
First, before the housesitting, there's the small matter of crossing Snowdonia. Hah. Yes, I'm setting off to cross the Carneddau, the Glyders and Snowdon before Sunday. The next path I'm following is the Cambrian Way, also known as the mountain conisseur's route. It follows a straight up and down path across all the highest points of Wales, from Snowdonia to Plynlimon and the Cambrian range and down through the Brecon Beacons and the Black Mountains. It will be a challenge, that is for sure. I'm not too worried though, my ability to sleep anywhere helps a lot, I don't have to worry about getting all the way up and all the way down each mountain in a day. I can sleep at the top, or halfway up, or even halfway down, ho ho. I'll just approach the mountains as I've done the rest of it. Slow, steady, you'll get there in the end. One of a group of men I met on the Offa's Dyke Path told me how to climb steep slopes - Just take tiny steps and don't stop. He's right, it helps. Somehow, while rarely feeling capable of doing so, I have walked more than 1300 miles. Good eh?
This doesn't feel like a very coherent piece of writing; but perhaps I don't have a very coherent brain at the moment. Let's see how the resting helps.
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