I can’t bend, I can’t sit, I can’t walk. What a lovely weekend away.

May 7, 2012




I agreed to a few days walking in the Lake District with my husband. He checked with me that I was prepared to do proper walks. I baulked slightly but nodded. We have walked together in the past after all. Little did I anticipate how much harder this weekend was going to be. Perhaps I am that much older, that much unfitter, but whatever the reason I found it tough. I am completely of the mind that you use it or lose it, be it physical or mental ability, so am bought in to the idea that one shouldn’t simply sit at home and watch TV all day, however appealing it is. But I don’t get this ‘challenge’ thing when it comes to physical ability. I have never been a natural athlete. Neither a sprinter nor a marthon runner, but a game-player. Usually involving physical strength and threatening the opposition. But not neccessarily a huge amount of running around. Hockey. Netball. Rounders. That kind of thing. I am not heavy on the endurance sports either. Basically, my games were over in an hour or so, and anyone can exercise for that length of time. In contrast, this weekend’s ‘walks’ have been all day jobs and seemingly nearly all uphill. Not for us a 5 mile stroll around a lake.

Day One brought glorious weather and we set off with our packed lunches. We went up Grey Knotts, Brandreth and Green Gable and on to Great Gable. The views were breathtaking and we didn’t see a soul. Then we had to get off Great Gable. The way down was simply rocks and scree. Unable to find any foot holds at all and using both my walking poles for balance,  I gingerly tried to pick my way down the sheer drop. I topppled sideways, breaking my fall using my ribs. Ouch ouch ouch. I stood up seeing Richard striding downwards, occasionally sliding, very occasionally stumbling. I fell numerous times. My arse padding coming in to its own. Then I hit the sheer scree sction which appeared to be a near- vertical drop. I squatted down and slid on my boots about 30 feet. Surprisingly less painful than the continual stand up fall down routine I’d been doing up till then. It made me think that downhill ski ing could have been my sport. I didn’t care that there were some massive boulders in my path, I just wanted to get down that hillside, and at least I was making progress. Even if my arse was in shreds. I continued downhill screeing. Eventually the scree ended and we continued down the hill in very boggy terrain, boots sinking ankle-deep and no discernible path. My husband tells me I am on this world for comedy value as I am unable to stay upright on any terrain other than a metalled road. We got to a point near the bottom of Great Gable and realised we had to turn round and go back up again to be able to find a path back towards the car. At that  point  I just wanted to be on a London roadside and hail a cab.


4 Responses to “I can’t bend, I can’t sit, I can’t walk. What a lovely weekend away.”

  1. georgiemcclarke Says:

    God that is so similar to what it’s like learning to ski! Tentatively trying to make your way down a mountain bit by bit, falling all the way, until a spectacular fall becomes a welcome friend because it projects you metres and metres down the mountain, and all you want to do is be at the bottom!! Reminds me of some of the days I had in December, with Danny gliding down and waiting for me while I cried at the top, haha. I hope you had a good pub dinner that night to recuperate!! xxx

  2. Anonymous Says:

    oh keep going with this one!! Its great reading! xx

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