Author: jl.boreham

I can’t quite believe what I’ve done today and I’m quite cross with myself. I just do not know when to give in so I’ve obviously paid no heed to my reading on accepting that you sometimes have to stop and that’s not failure. Now I am a bit of a calamity when it comes to running, or any challenge really. I am better off having a chaperone to look after me and tell me when to stop. I’ve had to drive myself to Accident and Emergency before now to be stitched up after falling and cutting my arm open on rocks and have fallen down numerous times, I’m a bit of an accident waiting to happen.  

Earlier this week I received a call from my cousin telling me he was coming to Yorkshire for the weekend and did I want to run Park Run with him this Saturday morning, a timed 5 kilometres around the local park and along the Trans Pennine trail and back. He lives four hours away from me now and we don’t get to see each other that often so I was so happy to hear from him and go and run with him.  

With it only being two weeks to my mountain race weekend and being only a short course I thought I’d use it as an opportunity to do some speed work and run it as fast as possible. The last time I ran Park Run was before the pandemic almost three years ago and I was interested to know if I’m fitter at 51 than 48, and I have to say I was secretly thinking it might be a PB (Personal Best) opportunity despite there being a head wind on the way out and it having rained heavily five minutes before. Like I’ve said before I never race anyone else, but I do like to race myself.  

The only slight problem was that since I went running on Tuesday night I’ve had a pain in the bottom of my left foot when I run. I could not work out where it was coming from. It felt like there was something in my shoe. I’ve washed my socks three times and could not feel anything, had the liners out of my running shoes but could not see anything and looked absolutely everywhere on the shoes. 

Walking onto the course this morning I could feel it again so I took my socks off, shoes off, liners out and we both had a good look but could not see anything, so by now I’m thinking maybe it is a foot problem. I think the others were thinking I was slightly mad and imagining it but believe me when I say I have a really high pain threshold and if I say something is hurting, it really is hurting. But me being me I thought I’d run it anyway and still go for the PB. Why I have no idea. Well, I do know why, it’s because once I’ve decided I’m doing something I’m just driven to do it. I’ve always drummed it into my boys that through life you will get pushed aside, knocked down and things won’t always go your way but whatever you do, if you get knocked down 7 times, just make sure you get up 8………never give in or stop trying your best! But I do take it to the extreme and like to practice what I preach. 

So basically I gave it my all and set off like a bullet out of a gun, or perhaps more like a rat up a drainpipe, and at various points along the route was in quite a bit of pain, to the point where I actually thought I was going to be sick at the end. I actually look in pain on the official photo below. The high level of my pain threshold and proof of my pain was confirmed when I hobbled back to the car, desperate to get my left trainer off, and my foot up on the steering wheel to examine it, to find a blood soaked trainer liner and a puncture wound in the bottom of my foot, but I still could not find the cause. I am as blind as a bat without my glasses on. 

The cause was eventually found, by someone with better eyesight than me. Whilst out running on Tuesday night I must have stood on a very large, thick thorn from a hawthorn bush, like a nail now it’s out of the trainer. It was so big it had gone all through the thick spongy base of my Hokas, through the sole and when the pressure of my foot was on the liner, straight through the liner and into my foot, leaving quite a hole. It’s now been extracted from the shoe but the very tip of it is still in my foot so tonight’s delightful task after dinner is to try and extract it with a pair of tweezers as I daren’t show up at the hospital again with another self-inflicted running injury, wasting everyone’s time. Fortunately, I fall down that often my tetanus vaccination is up to date. 

So the downside is I am hobbling around with a sore foot, so tomorrow looks like a gardening day or something less adventurous until it feels a bit better. 

However, every cloud has a silver lining and I was overjoyed when my result came through. 27 minutes and 49 seconds!! A personal best by over 30 seconds, my first sub 28 minutes, under 9 minutes a mile and second in my age and gender category. And all with a thorn in my foot! So life really does begin at 50, not only have I moved up the queue for a Covid vaccination I’m like a fine wine maturing with age, just getting better and better…..hahaha! The only thing now is I’m wondering if I’m actually slower or faster than normal with a thorn in my foot so I am going to have to repeat the whole exercise just to see. 

The other upside is because I’ve now had my wings clipped for a day or two, this afternoon was a steady afternoon, off my feet, and I got to spend the afternoon lunching with my Mum and Dad, my absolute world! Love them to bits. Fortunately she did not notice my slight hobble, does not read this blog, and will learn nothing of this incident because believe me, she might be tiny and over eighty but I still get told off on a very regular basis, I can’t think why?!?! 

So every cloud really does have a silver lining, I’ve got a hole in my foot and a bit of tweezer surgery to perform tonight, but I got my PB and a lovely afternoon with Mum and Dad. 

Gosh, I’ve been up to all sorts this week and last weekend – seaside, running, wild swimming …….. and work! Yes, I do work full time and this week has been one hell of a week so this post is a reflection on this week and all about balance in life. 

Now balance is something I got wrong for a long time. It’s easy to look at social media (I try not to) and look at other people’s seemingly perfect life as they travel round the world with what seems to be endless financial resources, have the body of a Greek goddess and nibble on carrots while drinking coconut water. But that’s not real life.  

For me happiness is in finding the right balance between everything I try to cram into my life, and I try to fit a lot in. Work, exercise, two children, elderly parents, friends, hobbies, evening classes,  reading, music, household chores, an allotment garden and a guinea pig which I appear to have adopted. I also drink alcohol, love caffeine and will fight you for the last piece of cake! For me it’s all about everything in moderation and getting the balance right.  

Last night the balance was slightly wrong as it was a get together for dinner and drinks with my two secondary school girl friends. The balance was wrong as there was more drink than dinner, this morning I have a slight headache but I’m still celebrating our victory in the Waggon and Horses pub quiz, not bad for the three imposters in the corner. Even the regulars in there looked surprised we’d stolen the victory, we obviously didn’t look that academic. It seemed that the more Pinot Grigio we drunk the more intelligent we got! 

So this morning to clear the head it was running training, up and down big hills in the woods where I live. It’s that time of year when I get slightly nervous as I enter a set of 10k running races in the English Lake District, two of them back to back on one weekend and as usual three weeks before the event I suddenly think I need to do a bit more training. They are not easy races. They are off road and the one on the Saturday is straight up and down Helvellyn, not a hill but officially a mountain and the third highest point in England. But this post is about balance and not taking things too seriously.  

There is an excellent book called Sky Runner by Emelie Forsberg which talks about finding strength, happiness and balance in your running. She is someone who inspires me because she is at the top of her game, has two small children, an allotment garden and a normal life outside running. She holds the fastest known times for running up and down some of the world’s highest mountains: Grand Teton, Mont Blanc, Matterhorn, Monte Rosa and Kungsleden and she eats cake!! Ok, she does not have a full time job in a school too, but she is an inspiration. She runs because she enjoys it, not to be the best, and in her book she talks about the balance between running, food, nature, gardening and she also gives you the recipe for the best cinnamon buns, as like me, she loves food.  

My running has to be balanced with my love of caffeine and cake. I do not diet – just the word ‘diet’ makes me miserable and I will snap your head off if I think I’m on a ‘diet’ so I don’t do it. I just try and make good choices some of the time so I can eat cake. Anybody who knows me will tell you that I wear my Garmin watch not to track how fast or far I’ve gone but to track how many calories I’ve burnt, because within an hour of finishing a run I’ve normally replaced the calories I’ve burnt off with cake and I make it in my way to do so. Every run route normally ends at a café or I’ve baked something for when I get home, like the cinnamon buns above – I love baking, but more of that in another post. 

I also love running, but I don’t take it seriously, I run because I enjoy it. I’m only ever racing myself, which is a good job as I normally finish in the middle of the field. When I stop enjoying it I’ll stop doing it. In her book Emelie Forsberg says that: “We were all built to run – all you have to do is put one foot in front of the other”. Now when I was younger I hated running and I really can’t emphasise how much I hated it, particularly school cross country. I was the slightly chubby one at the back who got stitch in my stomach before I set off, always ended up with a cold shower at the end as the faster ones had used all the hot water. It did not take me long to work out if you got far enough down the dip at the far side of the field Miss Harrison could not see if you walked for a bit.  

I started running only around 10 years ago following a tragic event. I lost my best friend and flat mate to cancer. We were only forty, with young children and at that age you think you have your whole life ahead of you. The three former flatmates, including myself, were absolutely devastated and we went through that stage where you just feel so helpless and need to do something, anything. So we signed up for the Cancer Research Race for Life 10k at York Racecourse. We chose the one at the racecourse as we figured it would be flat. It wasn’t! None of us had run since school but it ended up being quite a happy event that came from such a sad event. Not only did it reunite us after many years but it also resulted in my love of running because it became addictive. Running releases endorphins and endocannabinoids – which make you feel good. The latter, chemically has the same effect as the mood altering chemical THC in marijuana. So basically when I run I feel happy. It got me over that hump of grief. Now technically it is possible to experience a ‘runners high’ – I’ve never gone fast or far enough to experience it but I’m working on it! 

So although in my posts I might look like I’m a bit of a slave to exercise, believe me I’m not, I do all the bad things too in moderation, it’s all about balance. I’m not a natural runner but am capable of putting one foot in front of the other. So in short this morning was all about the balance between running, cake and clearing a bit of a hangover. A five mile route around the woods with as many up and downs built in as possible to simulate Helvellyn. A batch of Emelie’s cinnamon buns were baked last night ready for the return breakfast. I’ve burnt off 533 calories so by my calculations that’s two cups of coffee and one and three quarter cinnamon buns, but I think I’ll stretch it to two!  

So in short, find that balance, do everything in moderation, the good stuff and the bad stuff and if it makes you unhappy, stop doing it! 

Well this was difficult and a bit stupid!!

Last week I had the crazy idea that I would like to take part in the Monsal Hill Climb on my road bike in early October for a bit of a laugh as this hill has defeated me in the past. So imagine my disappointment when I was informed they would not accept me because I’m too slow, I’m not affiliated to a cycling club and it’s for better cyclists than me apparently. Now it was a bit of a silly idea. The Monsal Hill climb is probably the most popular hill climb on the UK racing calendar. Set in the very beautiful Monsal Dale in the Peak District it’s only 617 metres long but it’s absolutely brutal. It hits you like a wall with an average gradient of 1 in 6 but much steeper in some places and it just seems to go on for ever.

Then followed the sting in the tail of this conversation when I was jovially told “you probably could not get up that anyway, it’s much too hard for you!”  WHAT!?!? Well that’s just like a red rag to a bull for me. If you tell me I can’t do something I will make it in my way to do it just to prove you wrong.

Now my road bike and I have a bit of a love hate relationship. I’m either cycling lots or not much at all and lately it’s been the latter. So the sun was out this Saturday and I thought what a day to prove I can do this. So the cobwebs and dust were brushed off it and away I went, cameraman in tow, Garmin watch, Strava and all evidence gathering devices possible.

Now at home I am known as ‘all the gear no idea’………….. I can’t think why! I have to be colour co-ordinated, I like my top to match my bike and even have socks the same brand as my bike. It’s psychological I think………I think I’m invincible and built for speed when I’ve got them on when the reality is quite possibly the opposite. So out they all came this weekend, socks, race top…..the job lot in my absolute driven quest to achieve this goal.

Now apologies are due to two sets of people. For the actual event the road is closed to traffic, for me it wasn’t. So apologies are due to the cars I held up for four minutes who very patiently sat and watched me suffer as I crawled my way to the top and avoided knocking me off as I threw the odd zig zag in. Secondly apologies are due to the cameraman who tried to keep up and who at one point I thought was going to have a coronary episode on the way up.

A nice, steady, five beautiful miles to the start was followed by the sudden and much too soon arrival of the climb. Now what followed was four and a bit minutes of absolute agony. I started off slow trying to save as much in reserve as possible, by half way I was losing the will to live. I was already in the lowest gear so had absolutely nowhere to go. Sweat was pouring off me and I was absolutely gasping and could hardly turn the pedals. I could only concentrate on one pedal turn at a time. When the bend in the road came I had convinced myself I would be able to see the end but I couldn’t and at that point I really wanted to stop but the only way to do that would have been to fall off as I could not have unclipped myself from the bike so it was time for head down and keep going. The next time I glanced up I could see the top (and the ice cream van!) and I knew I could do it. I made it to the top!!! Yaaaaaay!!! And I have evidence…….lots of it!!

Now I have to point out that the course record is held by a certain Malcolm Elliott in 1 minute and 14 seconds (how did he do that!) and hot on his heels is me at 4 minutes 48 seconds.

In addition to apologies two sets of thanks are also due. Firstly to the cameraman for being there, shouting encouragement and going through it with me and secondly to the Monsal Ices ice cream van at the top of the climb for the two scoops of Raspberry Ripple that were required to resuscitate me at the top when I collapsed in an absolute heap on the viewing point wooden bench. I could not have done it without you!

So what got me to the top? I’m not sure, just sheer determination and thinking about small steps not the final goal I think. However, I do have an absolute fear of failure which drives me and brings me on to what I’ve been reading this week as I’m working on my acceptance of failure or what I perceive to be failure which probably isn’t in reality, because at some point I won’t be able to make it to the top and I need to deal with it: ‘Summits of my Life’ by Kilian Jornet is the book in question. Now for anyone that does not know him he is from Catalonia and is a professional sky runner, trail runner, ski mountaineer and long distance runner and in my opinion is superhuman and the greatest athlete of all time. In his books he talks a lot about the power and importance of the mind and I think it’s probably that that got me to the top rather than anything physical. He also talks for a full chapter about learning to accept defeat and here are couple of nuggets of his wisdom:

‘ There’ll be objectives that lie far off in the distance, but none of that is failure if we let the journey be what fills us up, even if we don’t make it to the top’ and ‘Our power is in our feet, our legs, our bodies and our minds.’

So in short the journey is more important than the destination and the mind is equally if not more powerful than the body.

So, onwards and upwards to the next adventure!

In my happy place on a Sunday morning……not Yorkshire but Peak District National Park, this time Cressbrook Dale and Water Cum Jolly Dale on the river Wye. Now that name, Water Cum Jolly Dale, just does it for me because I’m jolly when I’m near water. These dales are two of the prettiest for me and are definitely worth an explore. Sometimes I have to pinch myself at how beautiful it is here and I guess I’m so lucky to be able to get here in less than an hour.

On a weekend I just have to be outside exploring. After a week in the office I start to get really sad if I can’t get outside. There’s no such thing as bad weather for me, just the wrong clothing. I come out here in all weather – to run, to walk or just to sit and read my book or listen to my music.

Albert Einstein said: ‘Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.’

That’s so true. When I get out here next to the water and I can hear the birds and the trees and feel the sun and wind on my face all my problems disappear for a short while. I like to close my eyes too and explore it with my other senses, just listening, smelling flowers, foraging and tasting or touching textures on trees and rocks.

In the 19th century James Croston, 19^th century author, wrote the following about the dale and this says it all for me:

‘A calm and beauteous spot
A glorious Vale far down beneath the rocks
Where peace and bliss might, undisturbed repose
And man forget the names of sin and hate’

This Sunday was no different and was made even better by Mike and Karen at Oggies! They have the most adorable little convertible Citroen van which doubles up as a takeaway café and they do what I think is the best bacon and egg brioche roll for miles around.

I’d like to tell you I come just for the nature, but I have been known to drive for 40 minutes just for an Oggies brioche roll because good food and the great outdoors make Sundays perfect for me.

Oh how I absolutely loved this! Now after a busy day at work I love to go out and have a quick blast around with my running shoes on. The Trunce series is an annual group of trail runs, nine in total, through summer, every few weeks on a Monday evening. The series cumulates with race nine which is done in fancy dress.

Now I’ve often been asked to go and run it and always said ‘NO’, I like to keep my trainers clean! It might be only four miles but it involves wading through the river three times, squelching through mud and the most brutal un-runnable uphills and downhills.  It’s usually raining and the river is freezing cold.

Anyway, I was asked this time and I said ‘YES’ and oh boy did I enjoy it. When I was little I used to love playing in the mud. I often got into trouble for digging up small sections of my Mum’s flower beds in order to make my mud pies which I used to decorate with and array of berries, twigs and leaves. Well this this was just like going back to my childhood. How often at 51 do you get chance to get dressed up in a silly costume, run through 3 rivers and roll about in the mud! Not very often. Then to top it all there was beer and crisps at the end!!

I’m sort of sad it was the last race for this year. I’m definitely on for the series next year, I wonder if they’ll let me wear fancy dress for all nine?!?!

Well the car is fully loaded and this post if for all those mums and dads out there at this time of year who are waving off their nearest and dearest as they head off back to university or wherever else they may be going, and a bit of advice on letting go if it’s your first time!

I can’t believe it’s come around to that weekend again! The weekend when university beckons and you are back to that empty house. The car is packed up with an equal ratio of alcoholic beverages and essentials, or are they the same thing?!? That big hug on the doorstep that never gets any easier, that emptiness you feel even though you’ve been silently muttering under your breath that you can’t wait for them to go back after a summer of picking up strewn clothes, wondering what time in the morning they will come in and what time in the afternoon they will get up. However, if like me you feel a little bereft, trust me, it wears off, you get used to them not being around and you will get over it.

Being a parent is one of the most rewarding but challenging unpaid jobs ever. They don’t come with instruction booklets do they when you get them and they are all different and unique. You spend all those years questioning whether you are doing and saying the right things, whether you are doing enough, wondering what sort of individual they will turn out to be. However they are all different and looking back now I wished I had spent less time worrying because despite the exact same upbringing my two are as different as chalk and cheese, both individual and both with their own strengths, but different strengths, and there’s a place in this world for everyone.

There was a social media post over the summer from our local village pub, thanking all the customers who continue to support them, it went on to say they had now got a few groups of university students that had frequented the pub a lot over the summer and, “what a lovely polite bunch they all are, a credit to their parents”. Now I took the positive from this! I could have read it as the fact that he’s spent all his student finance and almost all summer in the pub! However, I’m focusing on the ‘lovely polite bunch’ bit of the quote and thinking I must have done something right.

Then along came the Duke of Edinburgh’s Expedition report for the youngest which read, “Your team appreciated your entertainment value”. Now for anyone who writes reports on children or who works in a school that’s a polite way of saying your child has been the class clown and the joker all week! At Junior school I used to dread that, “Could we just have a word with you mum” at the end of the day as you went to pick them up, that pang of, “Oh no what have they done now”, usually fidgeting or chattering as sitting still and concentrating was not his thing. However the next line on this report went on to say “Your funny conversations kept morale high, a great success, well done!” And I actually thought do you know what, that’s lovely.

What I’m trying to say is if you have a class clown, one that has a social life larger than life or one that breaks the mould in any other way please let it go, do not worry or stress and try to make them fit the mould, they will find their way and you will only make them miserable and worry yourself to death trying to get them to fit the stereotype.

Here’s a bit of advice if you’ve got one leaving home for the first time and some of the mistakes I now see that I made in the first year which have not been repeated this weekend in year 2! I’m the first to admit that I found it very difficult to let them go. You give them wings so they can fly but when they went I so wanted to keep hold of that safety rope to make sure they did not fall, but if you hold too tightly onto the rope there’s actually a greater chance they’ll fall.

The first mistake I made was that I did absolutely everything in the first year. I took control and absolutely micro-managed the move from home to university 3 hours away and I found it so stressful. I bought everything he needed, I packed it, I drove him to university and I unpacked it all and set his room up. Why did I do this? Looking back now it was to make me feel better – so I could leave knowing I had provided him with everything he needed. While I unpacked his stuff he laid on his bed keeping up with his posse and his band of admirers on social media! He had more kitchen equipment that a Michelin starred chef, a First Aid kit that would have been the envy of most hospital A&E departments, and a full array of cleaning products.  DO NOT DO THIS!

Firstly, most students do not clean, some do, and hats off to you if you have one that you’ve trained to clean. All the cleaning products came back unused. Do not buy them! Do yourself a favour and save some money, they will get them if they need them. If your child is a long way from home and you go to visit them just stop at the closest service station to use the toilet before you get there. Whatever you do, do not under any circumstances use the student toilet. If you must, just make sure you hover, do not sit, if you sit on the seat for any longer than 30 seconds you will stick and have to be surgically removed.

Secondly, make sure they unpack their own stuff, or even better go with you to get it and then they know what they’ve got, AND what to do with it! Not only did he have washing capsules, he had fabric softener and scent booster. However, it was only after four months when he returned home for a visit and the house was filled with a constant musty aroma and he was asked to demonstrate his use of a washing machine did it become apparent that washing products had not been used for the full four months! Then there was the week when he was very ill with tonsillitis and his flat mates rallied round him to donate their medication while his expedition First Aid Kit languished in the back of his cupboard.

Now, I absolutely love him to bits and none of this was his fault, it was mine!! So don’t make the same mistake as me, let go of the safety rope and let them fly, there’s much less chance of them coming crashing down if you do.

This year I’ve done the absolute opposite! My only contribution has been the offer to pay for, but not do, the first food shop. My only mistake is that I omitted to say that it was not to include the beer for the housewarming party! He’s packed all his own stuff and to make sure I did not interfere I didn’t even go to take him back, I stayed at home. I got a video call late afternoon for my virtual tour of the house and was quite pleased to see that everything looked in order and he doesn’t actually need me. Now, I can foresee a few problems that would irritate me but I’m keeping my mouth shut. Think 6 teenage boys, at least 8 pairs of trainers each and a hallway the size of a postage stamp with no shoe storage. It did look a bit akin to a scene of destruction and the sports shop shoe sale rolled into one but hey ho, it’s not me that’s going to trip up over them every day, I’m sure they’ll work it out. Then there’s the fact that teenagers don’t sit up, they sort of slouch and drape themselves over anything they come into contact with, I’ll leave it up to them to work out how all 6 of them are going to get on the two small sofas. I’ve been advised by a very reliable source that after only two hours they have already acquainted themselves with the house of girls next door and agreed joint usage of their garden and Pryzm nightclub had already been agreed as Saturday night’s venue!

So with that all sorted I’ve well and truly let go of the safety rope to let them fly. I can’t wait to see how high they soar this year but as always, I’ll still be here to catch any crash landings, but hopefully we’ll get to after Christmas this year!

So if it’s your first year, be brave, let go, you will have done enough and you’ll be giving them the greatest gift, their independence and freedom.

Here is me – Friday night climbing session at the climbing wall – facing one of my fears …….heights……….and doing some adventuring instead of my housework. Absolutely loved it, my return to climbing since before the pandemic.

Now, two of the lessons I took from my travels this summer were the importance of adventure and the fact that fear is good, it’s ok to be scared. What is important is that you do the thing you fear, yes in small steps at a time if you have to, be brave and the fear will subside. The only thing you have to fear is fear itself as it will stop you doing things you want to do. People look at me and think I’m fearless, I’m not, there are a lot of things I’m fearful of and became much more fearful of after having children which happens to 1 in 10 of us mums. I would say I am brave, not fearless (my mother might say irresponsible) as I face my fears, because the things I want to do and achieve are more important than the fear itself.

I said in my introduction to the blog that Nelson Mandela said that ‘Courage was not the absence of fear but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid but he who conquers that fear’.

The important thing is to rationalise that fear and work out exactly what it is you are scared of, convince yourself it’s not rational, as quite often it isn’t, and to ask yourself what is the worst thing that can happen, because I bet it’s not half as bad as the worst consequence you have going on in your head, believe me I’ve been there. I’ve been in that cable car going up the side of Mount Etna, quite merrily chugging along, whilst in my head is playing a scene akin to a James Bond movie with a broken cable car and me clinging onto the cable with one finger dangling from a great height!

I faced quite a few fears on a long walk through France and Spain this summer. They’ll seem quite small and irrational to some but if you are the one that’s scared it’s a big deal. The dark! Now I’ve been scared of being out alone outside in the dark since I was small and I know where this comes from and it is the most irrational fear. Often when you say you are scared of something you are not scared of what you say you are scared of but of a consequence of that thing, what will happen. I am not scared of the dark, I am scared of being abducted in the dark not the dark itself. When I was small in Yorkshire 1975 to 1980 to be precise when I was 4 to 9 years old there was a prolific serial killer on the loose, the Yorkshire Ripper. He murdered 13 women and attempted to murder 7 more in this 5 year period, all within a 25 mile radius of my home, usually in the evening and in the dark. I can remember the adult hysteria as he eluded capture every time and more importantly I can remember not being allowed out on my own in the dark throughout that period. When you are that age, between 4 and 9 years old,  you are quite impressionable and ever since then I’ve been a little scared of the dark, but apparently so are almost 10% of the adult population. I’ve overcome this now as I understand where that fear comes from and why it is irrational, the night is no different to the day, it’s just there’s no light. So when I had to set off walking early in the morning a couple of times on my own in the dark this summer on my walk, sometimes though wooded areas I’m not going to say I enjoyed it, I was slightly nervous, but I rationalised that fear and the more I did it, it gradually became normal.

So my adventure this weekend, climbing! I say I’m scared of heights, I’m not, I’m scared of falling, and those walls at 15 metres are pretty high. But I can rationalise it. I have a harness on. The carabiner that attaches to my harness I put on and then double check. Yes, I’m reliant on the mechanical auto belay which is checked regularly or the person belaying me not to give me too much slack but why would they? Now you might look at the photos and think I went straight up there. I didn’t. I haven’t been for a while so I went up gradually, throwing myself off a little higher each time until the fear subsides and it becomes normal, then that’s another fear conquered.

So if you are scared of something, don’t fear the fear. Ask yourself what is it exactly you are scared of, is it rational, what’s the worst that can happen, is the thing that you desire more important and approach it slowly one step at a time. Trust me, you’ll feel so proud of yourself when you’ve done it.