In bed with ma doner

9am and there was no way I was going to be walking. Steady rain, grey skies. By 10am it had brightened up a bit and I changed out of my day clothes into walking gear. The forecast was for showers so I did wear my waterproof trousers, and though all my walking trousers are at least water-resistant, waterproof is what it says on the tin. Not that they came in a tin, it must have been a packet. I also took my light waterproof jacket, nicely fitting in a bum bag type thing.

It was always going to rain at some time but I really did want and need to get out walking after spending almost the whole of the last week in the house. I have been asked why I do it and it has always felt that my physical health goes hand in hand with my mental health. There are other things too, like being kind, doing good deeds, helping others, that sort of stuff.

Walking clearly helps physical health as does just being sensible (though not obsessive) about food and not doing anything too stupid. Perhaps age has made me more boring. One of the most unhealthy things I did was as a student (isn’t it always?) when, after going to watch Pompey, I went out with a few mates and – late into the night – we bought kebabs. I couldn’t take more than a couple of bites. The next morning, I heated up the remains of the kebab, then went back upstairs to eat it for breakfast while reading the Pompey programme from the previous day. The times of Kenny Black, Steve Wigley and Jimmy Gilligan, for those of you who are of that persuasion. In bed with ma doner. Yes, really……..

Rain came, and came heavily, about 45 minutes after I started out. Thank goodness for waterproofs. 45 minutes of rain before I dried off a bit having a latte and yes, a blueberry muffin. That wasn’t the last of the rain but none of it was ever sufficient to do any more than raise the hood of my hoodie. If you’re interested where I went, along with some intrusions through some unfamiliar short cuts and long cuts, Sarisbury – Hedge End – West End – Townhill – Swaythling – Bitterne Park – Northam – Bitterne – Sarisbury. Just under 21 miles.

Dry. The gear did its job. Getting towards tiredness by the end but no after effects, at least none tonight. Important for me to keep this up and not be put off by the weather, if at all possible. Life isn’t easy for a lot of us and we have to do what we can, for our physical and mental health, whatever works for us. Wherever you are, whatever restrictions under which you currently find yourselves, please keep safe, happy, well and alert. And don’t go to bed with your doner.

In the peloton

I’m feeling much more like myself after a very decent walk today. I’m still not entirely sure who I felt like before but it was someone a bit older, a bit more doddery (given ‘dodderier’ is surely not a real word) and with far less energy. 7.5 miles yesterday with Pammy in the New Forest – three and a bit miles walking around the fantastically named Slop Bog near Ferndown, and four and a bit near Lyndhurst by Bolton’s Bench. Today was more.

It’s tough for us all at the moment. I’ve tried to help myself with my walking, and also with acts of random kindness, even if these are simply allowing someone to go ahead of me in a queue, or being the one to step aside or into the road when someone else approaches from the opposite direction.

Today I decided to “give something back”. Firstly, I was so grateful for all the loyalty points that my favourite coffee franchise has given me that I gave some of them back, for which I was rewarded with a free latte and a Bakewell tart. The tart was far too sweet; not the nicest tart I’ve ever tasted and it detracted from the pleasure of the coffee. Secondly, as the sun came out for an extended stay, I took off my woolly hat. I was so grateful for the Vitamin D that my head gave some back through reflection. About 30 minutes later, the hat was back on the head as it clouded over and became a trifle chilly.

From Stubbington, I cut through to Meon Shore and then turned back eastward and some random side roads. Any road that was not a no-through-road was fair game though one lane ended only about 50 yards from where it started, despite it feeling about half a mile long. Road walking is not to everyone’s taste but I always endeavour to find somewhere new on a route.

In mid-afternoon I happened to be in the vicinity of a secondary school. That is not my favourite place, nor for many men of middle or late-middle age, at this time of a weekday. Long standing readers, admittedly with good memory, might remember me reporting being propositioned by two girls aged 13 or 14 as I passed a secondary school between Fareham and Portchester with what I considered a decent reputation. That the girls were surrounded by loads of their friends made it all the worse and I walked on without responding.

Today near Crofton School, ok I will name it, there were no such incidents. However, for about 10 minutes off and on I felt as if I was stranded in the peloton of a Tour de France sprint, keeping to the very inside line of the pavement to let cyclists speed past as safely as I could. The obstruction of a roadworks sign almost saw me come to grief by way of a wheelying youngster and I was glad to turn off the race route a bit later.

The mileage was growing and I was feeling in good nick, nothing in the way of aches or pains. After reaching Fareham, a quick toilet stop and the last 5-6 miles home westward. As the sun lowered slowly in the west, it was occasionally awkward seeing too far ahead and even crossing the road a couple of times. I might not have been aching but I did start to feel a little tired for the greater distance than I’ve walked recently. When you start to tire, you start to feel the aches. And if there is one part of my body that can become stiff on a long walk, stop sniggering at the back please, it is my left thigh. I had hamstring twinges for some time earlier this year and around Christmas before that, and this might be a worry. Or it might be perfectly fine in the morning.

This was a very pleasing 18.5 miles, in fact slightly more but rounded to the nearest half mile. Thanks to that foot injury in the last month, I doubt I will achieve my target of 500 miles in 100 days for Walk a Million Miles but I’ll do as many as I can, and carry on after that to rack up more miles. But I know I have to be careful and be kind to myself.

Brownlees 11

As was the case on Saturday, it was chilly enough for me to have gloves, but not quite enough for a woolly hat. I still wore my cap as it was sunny here and there and, the best bit, I was walking with Pammy. She has had occasional niggles from her heel and I am just recovering from this foot injury so there was potential for us to look like a doddery granny and grandad after a few miles. Thankfully we were ok and more like the Brownlee brothers.

We took the strategy of making it up as we went along, and on the way to Titchfield we took a number of roads and paths that I knew and Pammy didn’t. On the way back, we had a role reversal. We doubled back here and there then there and here a few times and I was something of a disoriented soul on occasions.

In between, we partook of lunch in Daisy’s, a cute little independent cafe in Titchfield, taking sanitizing, social distancing, and track and trace very seriously. The smoked bacon bagel with leaves and tomatoes, plus crisps and coleslaw, and Pammy’s flatbread with feta, spinach, tomatoes and, er, loads of other stuff, were really great. I have never liked coleslaw so I gave that to her and there was consequently nothing left on either plate, except a knife, fork and tissue that is. A pot of tea each and Uncle Robert it was.

I think we both needed it. We have both been stuck in the house too much over the last few months but we have done a reasonable amount of walking, but quite often at different times to each other. 11 miles each, together. No pain, but plenty of gain, I think. Good for me and good for her.

Career theory

In light of the pandemic and grave difficulties in some forms of employment, some people have been advised to think about retraining to meet new challenges in the changing industry structure in UK. An assessment of options for new careers is available. Helpful, perhaps, but what could possibly go wrong? I thought I’d give it a road test. Hopefully I wouldn’t career off that road……

https://nationalcareers.service.gov.uk/skills-assessment

The assessment, with 50 multiple choice questions, didn’t ask about my age or sex; perhaps because all recruitment has to be free of discrimination or unconscious bias. Neither did it ask about my qualifications; perhaps they don’t matter because I can retrain, even if that could be three years building up 50 grand of student debt – in which case any existing commitments in terms of partner, children and mortgage might be important.

Neither did it ask whether I liked being punched in the face, since ‘professional boxer’ was one of the suggestions, probably a glitch of sorts. Overall, apparently, I enjoy helping and listening to other people, like dealing with complicated problems or working with numbers, and I am sociable and find it easy to understand people. Yes, apparently. There were 121 different “Job roles that might suit you”, 48 in Social Care (including Funeral Director, School Matron, Horticultural Therapist, Dramatherapist or a Life Coach), 21 in Sports & Leisure (including Yoga Teacher, Professional Boxer and – remarkably, given the current restrictions – a Cinema or Theatre Attendant), 20 in Hospitality and Food (yeah, great, not affected whatsoever by COVID – including Restaurant Manager, Publican or, er, Cake Decorator), 20 in Computing, Technology and Digital (many of these are slightly more likely, but also include User Experience (UX) Advisor, or Head of IT, less likely perhaps), and 12 in Retail and Sales (including Beauty Consultant – yep, that’s me – and Travel Agent (good luck with that one)).

It’s all very theoretical and entertaining in a light-hearted way. I’m quite happy in my current role that is thankfully secure employment, dealing with statty stuff that a few think I am good at. But there are people out there with their careers on the line, desperate to find work. This is no joke to them. I wouldn’t expect the algorithm to pick the single most suitable job but perhaps to be a little more selective than what I saw. If this is the best that a National Careers Service can do then god help us. At least ‘Prime Minister’ didn’t come up; I certainly couldn’t do that job, nor pretend that I could, though I can differentiate between a good one and a bad one. The best I could offer that job is to get old ladies to smile and say, “Oh leave him alone, he’s trying his best” as if I was some young boy with two left feet playing for an Under 8s team. That might be enough…….

I’m at an age now that if I did lose my job, I could ease down, surely able to find something in the line of Maths or Stats tutor, to keep my mind active, just take the edge off any financial pressures, and then go out walking as much as I wanted. That is, as long as I was physically able. No, indeed, not too many miles in the last three weeks. That’s not because those miles were in a file that was truncated in an old outdated version of Excel, it’s simply because I hadn’t been walking apart from 6 miles last Saturday. I can’t claim that all of a sudden tens of miles went missing. If they did, some of them reappeared today as I managed a reasonable in the circumstances 13 miles. Didn’t see any groups with more than six people, no obvious unmasked customers anywhere indoors, and no especially egregious non-social distancing.

All joking aside about the intricacies of the COVID rules for my area, or any other area, the details don’t bother me too much personally. I am not hanging on the edge of the rules, desperate to have seven people in my house or staying in a pub until a quarter past ten. For me, I’m going to be nowhere near infringing the legal boundaries nor the boundaries of government advice; after all, the level of risk is a sliding scale not driven by a hard boundary denoting safe / not safe. Even when one or two others may visit our house, we’ll be social distancing. I’m still pretty much only out for walking or shopping – social distancing for both and masking up for the latter. I’m still even sanitising shopping after I bring it home. I’m not bleating about rules or guidance (however unclear some others may feel they are for their circumstances) – my ‘civic duty’ (apparently) and, above all, family duty is to look after myself and Pammy. The government hasn’t been perfect on all things COVID, far far far from it, but we can all do our bit rather than pushing our behaviour to the edge of the guidance. Just because we may be allowed up to six in our household, two or three are safer than six. Not completely safe, but safer. Sometimes I think I take ‘risk assessment’ too seriously (hey, that IS my day job) but tell me I’m wrong. I’m all ears, ears which have helped in keeping my mask on at crucial times.

Just because something is legal to do, it doesn’t mean you have to do it. That’s the gist. It’s legal to cross the road without looking, but you’d never do that. It’s about managing risk. Likewise with walking, I am allowed to walk as far as I like but it’s a risk assessment, or a balance between risk (of injury) and benefit. So no breaking any records today. Recovery from injury or illness feels much harder as I get older – there will be one day when I won’t be able to do this, but hopefully not for a while yet. I had to shake off considerable stiffness in my legs over the first three or four miles and I wouldn’t like to have had to carry on for much longer than I did.

Rebuilding fitness is going to be gradual. I have a week off work, the first full week off in 2020! Another walk or two, one or two with Pammy too, no doubt.

The Rules of Six

A nagging foot injury that for a few days felt like constant mild cramp, and then a nasty cold that seemed to come and go in a day, have meant a short break from walking. I would thus never have considered anything into double figures on Saturday with Storm Alex anyway apparently bringing some nasty weather but we found what appeared a decent window of two or three hours in the afternoon.

6 miles, around Locks Heath and Warsash, with Pammy were just about enough. That’s not a comment on the extent to which I wanted to be with her but on the extent to which I felt I could safely walk, and stay close enough to home in case the heavens opened. My foot feels okay afterwards and longer walks can come in the next few weeks. No point getting injured again.

Despite taking my water bottle with me, I didn’t take a single sip over the six miles. It was cool weather so I exercised my judgement, but how stupid is it for someone not to follow all their own guidelines (at least I know them)…….the Rules of Six…….the calmer walker’s guide…..

Don’t bother to blog for walks of less than 6 miles

I record the mileage in order to make up the miles for my own 1,000 annual target and for the current Walking a Million Miles challenge, but not much is likely to happen in a five mile walk. If there is anything noteworthy, save it up for the next one. Unless of course I witness (or commit) a murder or serious crime, for which I would imagine the outlet for this would be more likely elsewhere than a blog post.

Have a ratio of about 1:6 resting:walking

That’s roughly what works for me. A 6 hour walk with an hour resting. That hour could be a half hour coffee break plus some odd short stops here and there to pick up drinks and snacks as necessary, toilet breaks, sit down for five or ten minutes etc. I find any more ‘resting’ than that and I’m not really pushing myself.

Drink at least 1 pint of water/fluid every 6 miles (this could include coffee!)

I posted a couple of months ago on the symptoms and dangers of dehydration. https://www.verywellfit.com/walking-water-calculator-3860943 provides some guidelines on this that suggest an intake of 3-6 fluid ounces per mile. There are 20 fluid ounces to a pint, and I remember by the rhyme from when I was about 5: “a pint of water is a pound and a quarter”, and there are 16 ounces to the pound. So I am at the lower end of 3-6 per mile but it would obviously be more if it is hotter or sweatier. That is about 1 litre for 10 miles, for those of a troy persuasion rather than avoirdupois.

Carry at least 6 tissues

This may sound odd but you never know when they will be useful. Sticky fingers (after a snack), excess sweat, runny noses, and – ugh – public toilets occasionally have no tissue paper. Lots of uses, and put them somewhere where they won’t soak through rain or sweat during walking.

Never start walking before 6am

Goes without saying. Getting up at that time is just nasty. I don’t even know why that’s there.

So a note to self. Three word slogan that I couldn’t possibly forget if I was interrogated on this by a well prepared local journalist. Rest. Drink. Er, um, Wipe.