Talking the talc

I am being reminded daily on my Facebook Memories page that 10 years ago I was finishing my walk in the North of Scotland. The question I was asked the most afterwards was how my feet were and whether all my blisters had healed. Actually my feet were the least of whatever problems I had – it was more the mental side and returning to normal life after ten weeks of being on the road.

Of course, physically it is the feet that are the most important. While it is hard to cater for every possible injury that the body can incur, there is plenty one can do to protect the feet. Good trail shoes or walking boots are essential for long distance walking, and important to wear in gradually with shorter and gradually increasing distance walks. It is almost as important to have specialist socks for walking – I have so many pairs in my drawer, of varying age and state. I have my own favourite shoe – Brooks trail shoes, size 11, extra wide – but each walker will have specific ones most suited to them.

As for blisters, I don’t get too many of those. I do loads to protect my feet but that’s not to say that I never get them. Good socks and shoes do help, for sure, but I also apply vaseline to vulnerable parts of my feet pre-walk and talc to my feet post-work post-shower. In the interests of blog post balance, I did have a small blister burgeoning after today’s walk but I never said that I never get blisters, only that I don’t have any great problem. Certainly many other walkers suffer more. Prevention rather than cure is imperative. Don’t burst them, if at all possible, and let them drain naturally to form protective skin.

It was a morning so unspring-like that even the blossom was in hiding but I opted for a cap rather than a woolly hat. It appeared that it might brighten up later but more like an autumnal feeling at first. I wasn’t so enthusiastic and my internal clarion cry for coffee was ringing loud and clear by about 5 miles, and I took a break of about 25 minutes. The northern parts of Hedge End are well served by interesting paths, woods and side streets, and I somehow ended up at the back of the former building site that is now Deer Park School, close to Boorley Green. I followed the Winchester Road down to Botley and then the road toward Bishops Waltham, cutting back through Curdridge, Curbridge and on to Whiteley.

After a wander around the shops without any intention of a purchase, I turned for home through the labyrinth of paths and up to the top of Swanwick Lane. From there it is a long predominantly downhill lane that ends at the bottom of Sarisbury Hill, at which point I felt a few spots of rain. This quite soon became steady.

Recently when listening to footie, I heard that the commentator spout that old chestnut that the ball gathered pace off the wet turf, so does that mean that I can walk faster when it’s raining? Clearly not and it was a slog up the hill to one cricket match that had only just finished on Sarisbury Green, and then to another at The Hollow that evidently was not going to restart any time soon after rain stopped play.

It hasn’t been the first time ever that my imminent arrival at cricket has coincided with the heavens opening. Perhaps I should be on call when the league season starts to help save a game for one of our teams who appear to be approaching defeat. Without a waterproof jacket today, my hoodie was pretty damp by the time I reached home after 18.34 miles. Consequently I was becoming cold not too long after stopping and so a hot shower was in order and fresh clothes. After talcing my feet, of course.

Getting lucky

Wow, life is so busy. So much going on. I was lucky to manage to grab most of a day out yesterday with Pammy at Mottisfont, and a few miles around the grounds into the bargain. Today was the main walk of the weekend with Saturday and Sunday already booked up for stuff. The weather report (end-of-day version) was continuing changeable – cold and grey at the start (woolly hat replacing cap in the team line-up), the sun evidenced its existence for a short while, a quick light shower while the wind was in my face, more cold and grey, more sun, another light shower and so on.

7 miles to coffee and a free one for me being so loyal. Not long after I felt the need for further sustenance; I was just hungry rather than tired, weak, achy or anything else. I stopped briefly at a convenience store. Two pet hates of mine at this time.

(1) when I want a sausage roll, I don’t want a pack of six, I want one. Extremely inconvenient for a convenience store to not cater for my individual need in this way.

(2) I am allowed to use self-service without being tutted at. Rude rude rude. It’s there and it’s my choice. Life moves on, you can queue for a human assistant if you want but I like the convenience and I’ll be out of this shop five minutes before you. You can say that I am costing the job of the assistant but I am providing employment for those who develop and maintain the self-service technology. When you buy your first car, are you not similarly costing the bus driver their job? A hundred and more years ago, when man developed a car horn, was that not costing the job of that bloke who walked in front of the car with a flag? Technology brings convenience and we are entitled to move on.

Anyway, rant over, and a drink and a punnet of blueberries were really well received. I felt much better and was happy to take long routes at a decent pace all over the place. My head music for long periods was Daft Punk’s Get Lucky and I got lucky with almost everything today, especially avoiding the large number of idiot drivers on the road who occasionally made me feel like I was in some video game with one life remaining. I really enjoyed the cricket on the radio and chuckled every time it was mentioned that the Surrey game was delayed due to rain, spoken with the same solemnity as would the announcement that a reigning monarch had passed away. So the 5Live Sports Extra commentary switched regularly between a number of games which was nice rather than the usual wall to wall Surrey coverage.

My mind turned to a number of friends and colleagues taking part in walking or running events and challenges, too many to mention them all but very best of luck to those that are coming up in the next week or two. Well done to Stephanie Green whom I discussed a few weeks ago and she completed the London Bridges Half Marathon in a personal best time. I am still pondering what to do myself and thinking that I would be need to be doing something like half distance (30+ miles) if I was going to be able to complete one of those 100km ultra challenges. I cannot believe that much less than that is good enough preparation – it doesn’t have to be 30 miles every walk but at least one walk of that distance is necessary for a decent chance of accomplishing the full 100km.

Today I managed 23.62 miles and though it hurt near the end, I had plenty still in my legs. Anything above about 20 miles increases the likelihood of chafing in the nether regions and there is a bit of stinging there when I think about it. But it is a good distance and I certainly wasn’t at my absolute limit. 

Loads of intercourse

Sometimes I have little or no social interaction over several hours on a long walk. The odd good morning, thank you or nod to fellow pedestrians and the minimum necessary words to a barista but sometimes that’s it. Today it seemed that cricket is nearly here and cricket people have come out of hibernation.

Within the first mile of my walk yesterday morning, as well as (social) intercourse for a few minutes with two women who were wearing Ultra Challenge t-shirts, I had already seen three good friends (I could use the word stalwarts) from the cricket club who honked to me from their cars. I had another crickety honking in the early afternoon and then bumped into one of the top players who was walking with their young child in a pram.

It was great to see them all but not so great to almost have close interaction with a driver who thought the 40 speed limit referred to metres per second rather than miles per hour. It prompted my mind to do some mental calculation that 40 metres per second ~ 90 miles per hour which perhaps was a bit speedier but they were certainly around about 60 or 70 miles per hour. Anyway, I survived and carried on at my usual walking speed of just over one and a half metres per second.

6.5 miles before coffee at Fareham Broadcut and I half expected to see loads of friends there, the way things were going. What I did get was an elderly lady with her copy of The Times trying to start a conversation about the cost of living. I humoured her but really just wanted a break before setting off again. It was a warm day, one on which I wore my cap for the first time for months, but the breeze became greater as I walked into its face. Perhaps you don’t notice it as much when it’s behind you.

The walk itself today took mostly familiar roads and paths though as always I ensured to take at least some new route at some time. By 2:30pm I could feel my shoulders tense a little in anticipation of football on the radio with Pompey one victory from promotion and the title. I must admit to remembering little of the remainder of the walk apart from the social intercourse with the post-hibernating cricketer. I had my heart in my mouth for much of the late afternoon as Pompey secured a draw at one of their few remaining promotion rivals.

I can’t be in too bad nick and my new shoes worn in well already if I can already approach 20 miles on their second wearing, and without any foot problems. I smiled to myself on reaching home as I saw the total distance of 19.87 miles, an omen for our promotion if ever there was one.

However, I had an uncomfortable sleep after possibly over-eating after walking, with us having visitors this weekend. An uncomfortable sleep due to my stomach feeling full and legs that felt pretty stiff for once. I have times when I want little or nothing to eat post-walk while at others I need loads of refuelling. Perhaps I misjudged it this time. No worries.

Coffee with my little Willy

An imperfect storm of circumstances meant that I would be walking today and a limited mileage. Things to do and people to see on both Saturday and Sunday, which underlined Friday in the walking diary. I had had to buy new walking shoes simply because of the damage to my feet inflicted by the last newish pair, which have been consigned to the ‘can wear as trainers’ compartment of our shoe rack. New shoes should always be carefully worn in, and I have also been full of cold in the early half of the week, more or less losing my voice on Tuesday and still sniffling a lot now.

A few years ago I wouldn’t have been bothered about doing a longish walk but I suppose I have learnt from experience. Even with new boots and a cold, I thought I ought to do something rather than nothing this week. However I have become risk-averse to the extent that when I am editing an office document, I nearly always elect to use the ‘copy’ rather than the ‘cut’ function, despite requiring the latter rather than the former. I will then go back and delete the original text or data once my eyes have seen the proof that the information has indeed been copied. So about 10 to 12 miles would be fine.

It was warm and windy, blowing from the south or south-west enough that I felt the need for the woolly hat rather than the cap. For one thing, my woolly hat will never be blown off. I had almost 5 miles on the clock by coffee time in Hedge End and I settled down for a nice quiet half hour with my cup and my thoughts. About five minutes in, my day dream was interrupted by two women to my right, probably in their 60s or even 70s, and if I closed my eyes I could imagine I was in a scene from Eastenders with Dot and Ethel. It wouldn’t have been out of place if I had heard, “ooh I say”, “my Nick” or even “my little Willy”. The definition of a click-bait blog post title.

Soon it was time for the nine duff duff drum beats and I was back on the road, thinking about how far would be sensible. For some reason I decided to return home through Thornhill. Really, my mind isn’t what it was. We have energy-saving light-bulbs but I sometimes don’t bother to turn them on because I don’t now have the attention span to wait for them to get bright. It’s rarely a comfortable feel walking there, though today it was only down to a contest between an owner and his unleashed dog as to who could snarl more. I kept telling myself that dogs can sense fear so I convinced myself to think of pleasant things, and I am still here now to tell the tale.

No football on the radio today but it is the first day of the county cricket season. I tuned in to BBC Radio 5 Live Sports Extra, the radio home of the County Championship, a station that might as well be called BBC Radio 5 Live Surrey CCC, since it always seems to be their match on commentary. Today, play was abandoned without any cricket so there was commentary from elsewhere, Warwickshire v Worcestershire but seemingly with mention of Surrey at every conceivable opportunity. It felt a bit like the football World Cup where every match has the commentator finding a tenuous link with either England or the Premier League. “It’s back to Paraguay v Iran with the South Americans bringing on a player whose great-uncle played 19 times for Burnley in the 1990s”. That sort of thing.

I wasn’t in a great amount of discomfort and I was happy that the blisters that were continually troubling me with the old boots had now apparently settled down. But I wasn’t going to push it too hard and settled for a sort of half-distance 10.92 miles. That will do until this cold has gone, and boots worn in a bit more.

Coffee and Hot Chocolate

I have been able and happy to post longer walking distances in the last three weeks or so. I don’t think that it’s coincidental that it has coincided with better eating habits, such as nothing between meals apart from one coffee in the morning, and other fluids (tea and water) at other times. No having a biscuit or two with a cup of tea or anything to chomp on while doing the washing up. The only exception is fruit. Additionally, I am much more active during the week with fewer hours sitting at my desk at home, and being in the office a bit more makes me walk about a fair amount too. Already yesterday I spent most of my day with Pammy reorganising the house, moving sofas, chairs and tables between rooms, which was considerable physical effort. Doors are never quite wide enough.

This morning I felt really physically great, the only blot on the landscape the continual niggly blister on the inside of my right heel having to be patched up. My relatively new trail shoes are not great for me even after 200+ miles. I don’t really want to ditch them but they may need replacing sooner than usual, ‘usual’ meaning something close to 1,000 miles. They would probably be ok for use as normal trainers but for long-distance walking I am losing my patience like they were a star striker signed for millions who hasn’t found the net in 20 games. They didn’t improve today.

A good start with the weather seeming to be set fair though the wind was blowing a bit in my face whenever I turned south. I felt the blister rubbing at 7 or 8 miles and I stopped briefly to tighten the shoe laces, which worked for a while. I was ready for coffee in Grange Road, Gosport at 10 miles and took a 40 minute break, 15 minutes of which was in the queue. I wasn’t about to submit to any foot irritations since otherwise my body felt trim and able to rack up the miles, walking east pretty much as far as I could without getting wet. The Spinnaker Tower grew larger as I travelled through the precinct which was eerily quiet and partly deserted. I noticed the banners “Bring Gosport back to life” but I could not see any defibrillators.

I really shouldn’t be too cruel about Gosport. I always feel the benefit of walking there since I then am so much more appreciative of where I live and what I have. I know too that I have a number of friends from Gosport and I wouldn’t want to insult them. There are loads of nice new houses there and they all come with a free baseball bat to keep by the bed at night in case of intruders.

I knew this was already a decent distance with still a long trek north toward Fareham. I was amused to see a ‘Natural Health Clinic’ and mused over what they do. “Ok, let’s get rid of all that make up and lipstick, and drain the botox. And I don’t think we need all that plastic surgery, can you take off your top and I can remove those plastic implants. There you go, you’re all natural again……”

So far, my head music had been the usual fare and Hot Chocolate. I’d heard So You Win Again earlier in the week for the first time in years and was very apt for the footie that was just starting on my radio. Dur dur dur-da-dur, dur dur dur-da-dur. I couldn’t quite stride in time to that but I couldn’t easily get it out of my head.

I was almost up to Fareham by half-time before turning back on myself and going west. No doubt about it, Hot Chocolate were doing the trick but I felt some foot trouble coming on. Other blisters and aches were forming as I perhaps compensated for the main one. I wasn’t over-bothered; blisters are superficial rather than ‘proper’ injuries and this was going to be my longest walk of the year so far, the third time in a row that I have improved on my best.

Now I am not in training for any event but I can already claim an ultra-marathon for the year with the final distance of 26.24 miles, a few yards longer than the standard marathon distance. I don’t think I’d achieved that in either 2023 or 2024 before, though a regular occurrence even in 2022. Perhaps this is a new era of healthy living and even longer distance walking. It just takes up so much bloomin’ time but it is worth it to feel the benefit.