Author: jl.boreham

This weekend is the weekend of the Lakeland Trails Dirty Double and tonight I’m having a bit of a mental meltdown as I think I might have bitten off a bit more than I can chew. So, Saturday will see me huffing and puffing up and down the Helvellyn mountain 10k in the English Lake District followed by the Ullswater 10k on Sunday, both departing from Lake Ullswater.

I absolutely love the English Lake District and if anything, it’s an excuse for a nice Friday to Sunday weekend away. It’s stunningly beautiful at this time of year with all the golden Autumn foliage and there’s nothing like the good old British pub meal and a log fire after a run. The lakes themselves and the mountains that surround them make for the most stunning backdrop to these two races.   

I always get nervous on race day, even though I’m not racing anyone but myself. You just get swept along with all the hype and adrenaline, it’s a bit like stage fright. However, my nervousness does not normally start as early as Tuesday before the race!

The reason being is I think I was lulled into a sense of false security last year, the first year I had run these races. I absolutely loved them. The back-to-back 10k’s were quite tough but the sun shone on Saturday, the scenery was spectacular and apart from my spectacular face plant in the river on the Sunday it was quite dry.

Physically it should not be an issue, I know I can run 20k. I say should as I have been suffering from terrible cramp in my calves and feet every day since I did my Camino walk in the summer. It hardly happened on the walk and now I can’t get rid of it and I have tried all sorts. It happens at the most inopportune moments, like when I was half way up the climbing wall last Friday and had to be lowered down rigid on a rope by my belay partner who was in fits of laughter, unlike me who was nearly crying, it’s so painful. I’m up at least once in the night with it too, hopping round the bedroom trying to stretch it out. If anyone knows how to get rid of it, answers on a postcard please because it’s driving me insane.

Anyhow, anyone who knows the Lake District will know that some of the altitudes are quite high, these are mountains not hills, and the weather can change very quickly and before you know it you can get in quite a bit of difficulty with low visibility.

I started to get a little nervous on Sunday when the e-mail below came through telling me about the mandatory kit list due to the remote location of the route. “Why is there a mandatory kit list?” I thought. There wasn’t one last year. I was a bit disgruntled because I don’t like to carry lots of equipment when I’m running, I like to be free of clutter. I’m now going the have to wear a race pack and carry a cagoule, over trousers, hat and gloves………..extra weight. Then I went on to read it was necessary because they have changed the route and access is difficult with ‘rapid response safety teams only being able to access the trail by boat’. By now I’m getting slightly worried as I wasn’t expecting to be in a remote location, and I certainly am not anticipating needing an emergency rapid response team.

By now I’m thinking this is possibly not going to be like last year’s and definitely does not sound like what I signed up to. I’m thinking nice bed and breakfast lodgings, sunshine, glorious autumn colours, running up Helvellyn mountain, pub meal on Saturday night, crackling log fires, beautiful run around Ullswater on Sunday, all finished off with an English Cream Tea on Sunday. Now that’s what I signed up for. Running is always followed by eating, in fact most of my activities end at a café. I’ve been for my final little trot round the village tonight, nice slow 10-minute miles for 5 miles, and I won’t run now until Saturday. I’ll just eat, sleep, work repeat as I try and get rested and fuelled for the weekend.

That’s if I run as I have now made the mistake of looking at the Helvellyn Mountain weather forecast for Saturday. I can now see why the compulsory kit including hat and gloves is required and I definitely did not sign up for this!! I’m running this on my own, and I normally do end up on my own, there is usually a bunch at the front of the race and bunch at the back and me somewhere in the middle slogging it out on my own, so there’s no-one I can really tag onto. I absolutely hate poor visibility as my navigational skills aren’t that great and I just feel lost and scared.

So, bring it on! It’s a 10am start which according to the forecast below that means snow showers, yes, SNOW! But let’s not worry too much about the snow showers, perhaps the fact that it will feel minus 13 degrees C will be the issue, or could the 65km south westerly head wind blowing the snow into my face cause more of a problem?!?!? WHAT???? This is not what I agreed to. I could cry. I’m having a serious panic. I’ve never dropped out of anything in my life but this was never part of the deal.

So this is the final blog post until later next week as I’m hibernating for the rest of this week. The race kit is out on the bed and includes all the compulsory gear, headtorch for extra measure, fluorescent yellow coat in case I need rescuing and two pairs of everything as I don’t suspect anything I wear on Saturday will be dry enough to wear on Sunday. Next week there could be a race report. Or there may just be a blog post of me enjoying a lazy weekend in the lakes drinking Aperol Spritz in front of a roaring fire with not a pair of running shoes in sight. If there is neither, then you know I’ve been carried off by the Emergency Rapid Response Team. Live results will be available here, if like my mother, you desperately need to know if I survived.

https://www.lakelandtrails.org/results#2_F1E839

Today is world Mental Health Day! This post is a little late in the day as the day is nearly over and I guess it’s a little rant about something I feel really passionate about, not just mental health, but children’s mental health in particular. The views are entirely my own and are not in any way politically motivated as I don’t affiliate to any political party. I always use my vote, but politicians have to work for my vote and I’ve spread my vote widely over the years dependent on who is delivering what as actions speak louder than words.

I work in a primary school and we take mental health and children’s mental health very seriously. Today we all wore something yellow to work and our casual clothes and fundraised for Young Mind’s ‘Hello Yellow’ campaign. Now this in itself was quite difficult as I don’t do yellow but I managed to find my yellow flowery happy shirt lurking in the back of my wardrobe! ‘Young Minds’ are a mental health charity for children, young people and their parents, making sure all young people can get the mental health care they need. 

I haven’t always worked in a school, for 18 years I had a career in banking. I became disenchanted with banking when I had my children. My hours were long, work was stressful, a lot of travelling away from home was involved and I was working very hard just to make as much profit as possible for a bunch of shareholders I’d never met nor was likely to do so. I wanted to do something where I felt like I made a difference and I absolutely love children so I decided on a career change and ended up firstly in a secondary school (11 to 18 years old), in quite an affluent area, and later in a primary school (3 to 11 years old), in a deprived area where I am still based now.

It’s hard work and it’s opened my eyes and continues to do so. According to the 2019 Index of Deprivation the area the school is in ranks 9 out of 10 (with 10 being the worst) for income, employment, education, health, crime and overall deprivation, but I love working there as there is the potential to make such a difference to the lives of young people.

In 2019 I did my Mental Health First Aid Certificate to enable me to provide First Aid to people who may be experiencing mental health issues such as depression, anxiety and psychosis, another subject I feel passionate about, as it’s ok not to be ok and stuff happens to most of us at some point in our life that we just can’t deal with on our own.

Anyway, two of my passions, children and mental health! So today is an important day, but so is every day and today I have been made aware of some statistics which I have to say have horrified and saddened me and are the reason for me getting on my soap box now.

• According to the British Journal of Psychiatry in 2019 about 7% of children in the UK have attempted suicide by the age of 17 and almost one in four say they have self-harmed in the past year………. that’s 25%!
• According to the children’s society 1 in 6 children or 5 in every class of 30 have a mental health problem.

Now that’s a huge number of children and that first bullet point horrifies me. But what horrifies me more is the lack of action that is being taken to rectify the situation. For me this is a bigger pandemic than Covid and its long-term impact will be far greater. These people are the next generation, we are reliant on them to look after us when we get old.

Over the last 13 years I have gradually seen the demise of the British education system and the wheels have now well and truly dropped off. According to a National Education Union Survey this year 44% of teachers plan to leave the profession by 2027. That’s nearly half the workforce, with teacher recruitment and retention at an all time low. Perhaps it’s about time someone looked at why. The latest Government survey cites Government policy, lack of support from leadership and workload as the 3 main reasons for high turnover.

I’m not saying that the state of the current education system is to blame entirely for the child mental health crisis as there are so many social factors involved and the demise of society in general, but it certainly does not help. School should be a happy place where we nurture and foster the individual strengths of each and every child. We seem to have lost the sight of the fact that they are all different as the Government come up with the latest buzz word and treat them all like a scientific experiment.

The latest buzz work ‘Age Related Expectation’ defines as: what children should have learned, or be able to do, at the end of each Key Stage. It works on the premise that the average child of that age and stage should meet the given standard.

But they won’t all meet the given standard as they are all different!! And we are only testing them in English and Maths, what about those that are good at science, art, languages, humanities! Are we telling them they have failed to meet expectations because they did not achieve age related expectation in a Maths paper and an English paper, they sat on one morning when they were 10 or 11 years of age?  Yes, I get that we need a baseline to measure against but there has to be a better way of doing it with less repercussion on the children and it has to come from the top. We have to stop penalising a profession when their pupils fail to meet, what for some, will be an unachievable target and we need to stop making children feel like a failure if they don’t meet that target.

Since when did trying your best and not giving in become not good enough. I have two boys. They have both been through the broken education system. One flew through, one didn’t. He considers the last few years of his secondary school education as some of the worst of his life and I find that sad…..his best was simply not good enough and that was made quite clear to him. I never for one moment had an expectation that academically they would reach that same age-related expectation in Maths and English, they never have been and never will be the same. He’s lucky, I saw him falling and was there to catch him, but not every child has that support network around them. He got up, brushed himself down and makes me so proud every day. He has the most fantastic creative mind, is studying architecture, is a wonderful artist, kind, generous and has the potential to go just as far in this world as anyone who meets ‘Age Related Expectations’.

Government Policy has to change and here is why. The system can only be fixed with competent leadership from the top. Since 2019 we have had six Secretaries of State for Education, yes six, and four of these in 2022, one of whom lasted 36 hours in the job! Each one has a different agenda so no sooner do you put one thing in place to have the tables shuffled again and be shooting off in a completely different direction. There is confusion, lack of clarity, no-one knows what they are doing and in the middle of all this are children!

Below are the last six Secretaries of State for Education and their careers before politics, sourced from Wikipedia. See if you can spot the one thing they all have in common

• 2018-2019         Damian Hinds                    –              Pubs, brewing and hotel industry
• 2019-2021          Gavin Williamson             –              Management in Fireplace and Ceramics
                                                                                           industry
• 2021-22              Nadhim Zahawi                –              Chemical Engineering
• 2022-22              Michelle Donelan             –              Marketing
• 2022-22              James Cleverley                –              Army and Hospitality Management
• 2022 –                 Kit Malthouse                    –              Accountant

Yes, you’ve guessed it!!! Not one of them has a career background or qualification in anything remotely linked to education (army might be similar on a bad day). These people have never stepped foot in a classroom on a normal day, have no idea what issues these children face on a daily basis and do not see the impact that their policies have on everybody from the headteachers, to the teachers and ultimately to the children. Come on Britain, we have to get this right and get someone on the case who is suitably qualified and gets it or this pandemic really is going to come back and bite us in a few years. It really does show a lack of respect for all of us working in schools who have studied for years to gain related qualifications.

So today, on World Mental Health Day, and every day after, connect with other people, give them a smile or a hug, they might just need it, they might not be ok. Where children are concerned always reassure them that their best is and always will be good enough, highlight their strengths and celebrate the successes and the wonderful little people they are. Let’s stop giving them a hard time because they’ve not achieved the latest pie in the sky target set by a bunch of people out of touch with the reality of what these children are living on a daily basis and the struggles that they are facing.

So that’s it, rant over, back to light hearted posts from tomorrow. I feel so much better for it, I love the fact we live in a democracy and can say what we want. If I’ve offended anybody we’ll have to agree to disagree, I don’t do falling out, life is too short! I’m off now to give someone a hug and a smile on World Mental Health Day! Stay happy, keep smiling and if you aren’t, remember it’s ok not to be ok, reach out, there will be someone there who, like me, will give you a smile and hug you to within an inch of your life on any day of the week, not just today.

This post is about the allotment garden but first things first. This morning I conducted my sports science experiment as to whether I am faster or slower with a thorn in my shoe. I thought possibly slower as I was desperate to get to the end in last week’s 27:49 minutes. So I dragged myself out of bed early this morning to have another go minus the thorn. Now I’m not a rise and shine person, I’m a night owl. I always go for a coffee after my run and the sign below that I spotted in the coffee shop this morning made me smile as that is me, I don’t rise and shine in a morning……. I caffeinate and hope for the best! ……and this morning felt harder than last week, possibly due to the consumption of wine last night. However, I am pleased to report I am a full 45 seconds faster without the thorn at 27:04 minutes and an 8:42 mile. I’m happy with that and that will be the end of the experiment as I really do think that is my limit. I do have a slight problem with the 4 seconds and whether I could have got below 27 minutes but I’m not going to dwell on that.

My thorn injury last week meant I have spent a lot of time in the garden this week rather than exercising and training as I have to be outside when the weather is fine, I’m not an indoors girl. The allotment garden has been the possession of the household for around 10 years now. I like the idea of growing your own and doing all you can to reduce your food miles. Homegrown also tastes so much better than anything you buy too and I love to cook. When I retire, I have two dreams: travelling lots and ticking off all the places on my long bucket list and residing somewhere warmer than Yorkshire and living a simple life, surrounded by nature and being as self-sufficient as possible. I like to grow from seeds too rather than buy plants as I’m still fascinated by watching a little seed as big as a pin head, germinate and turn into something on your plate.

The allotment garden however is hard work and it’s not quite as idyllic as it sounds. For 10 years an attempt as been made to space the planting out to ensure a steady flow of vegetables through summer and Autumn, however, this year, as in all other years, everything seems to be ready at the same time. So, for the last two weeks I have been drowning in a sea of fruit and vegetables. So many that I don’t know what to do with them. I give them away to random strangers walking past, deposit them on the doorsteps of grateful friends and cook, eat and freeze as many as possible. There is beetroot, sweetcorn, gooseberries, potatoes, beans, pumpkin, rhubarb, figs, onions, courgettes, late strawberries, cucumber and you name it.

I am also pleased to report that I am Mum to the village’s largest pumpkin this year weighing in at 9.5kg, heavier than two babies, and here it is above! I have no idea what I’m going to do with so much pumpkin and it may possibly end up being this year’s carved masterpiece at Halloween as although I have no children at home with me now, I do love a celebration and will have my sweets, pumpkin lantern and dressing up outfit on ready to dish out my chocolates to the mass of children that normally come knocking for ‘trick or treat’. I might even borrow a child and go myself.

So, this week on top of work, running, and the adopted guinea pig there has been lots of cooking going on: rhubarb crumble (my absolute favourite with custard), strawberry jam which I like to make look all pretty, pickled beetroot, pumpkin soup and lentils with goat cheese and walnuts to use up carrots, onions, celery and vegetable stock.

I think it may have actually been harder work than my adventuring and training but that’s about it for this year. I’m not a winter grower as it’s too cold to grow anything well up here in the north, everything will be asleep in its blankety bed until Spring when the cycle will start again and I’ll once again try to get the timing better.

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.