All Posts in “adventure”

SUP Challenge : 6-days, 11 lakes by SUP & Bike

11/03/2020 / no comments

SUP Challenge : 6-days, 11 lakes by SUP & Bike

By Rachel Towe

Self described as a novice SUPper, Rachel Towe, creates a unique voyage combining a bike trailer and the board to circumnavigate the Lake District paddling the length of 11 iconic lakes. A tale that is not particularly ground breaking in terms of a physical challenge, nor one that breaks records and reaches the outdoor challenge headlines but one that might inspire others to create their own unique adventure out of limiting circumstances and think outside the box.

Firstly…the reason I wanted to share my story on the WWW website…

I hadn’t met (or even heard of) a Wonderful Wild Woman until I went to Rheged Visitor Centre one January evening in early 2020. Only that day, I had been battling with the Lake District weather and attempting to dream of adventures in the spring and summer ahead. The day was dreary and driving up to Penrith on a stormy night felt like the opposite of what my hibernating instincts told me I should be doing that evening. I was, like a lot of others around me, feeling a little depressed.

I was going to the WWW event to support my fabulous friend, Jane Reedy. Jane was giving a talk that evening after surviving (and thriving) the challenge of overcoming horrendous cancer surgery and creating the ‘Pedal to the Peaks’ adventure. Through her adventures, Jane has raised an incredible amount of money for Cancer Care (look her up – you will definitely be inspired too). I went along that evening to feel proud of her and support her, as she indeed told us why she is a Wonderful Wild Woman.
That evening at Rheged was truly inspirational for me. Every one of the WWW that stood up to speak and tell us their story, touched my heart and I came away floating. The vibe in the room was so welcoming and warm and even though I didn’t know the people there, I felt like I belonged. My motivation sparked again. I came home gushing with enthusiasm as I told my family of the stories I had heard.

The next day, I continued to bounce and I reached out to friends to share my enlightenment. I looked at the WWW website, and enjoyed reading some of the marvellous stories on there. I felt compelled to email some of the speakers/founders and thanked them for sharing their story. I thought, ‘I want to be part of this WWW group’ but I realised on reflection that I felt like I already belonged. The philosophy of the group is not to share accounts of remarkable athletes doing un-achievable things. At the heart of WWW, are stories about females overcoming challenges, just getting themselves out there and feeding off the benefits of being in the great outdoors. It’s about their attitude to support each other, to share their love of how renewing the great outdoors can be. It’s non-competitive, warm, fun and definitely something I want to be a part of.

So…I thought…I think I am a WWW too. I am not the arrogant type and often quite a private person about my achievements but I felt that the WWW website isn’t about bragging, it’s about sharing, appreciating and inspiring each other. Therefore, I thought you might enjoy my story of thinking outside the box, of overcoming limitations, and just getting on and being inspired by what our truly magical environment has to offer us.

This is my story of my SUP challenge of Summer 2019…

Floating on top of the water is truly magical and that’s the feeling I first felt when I tried SUPping for the first time. After spending a lot of time in the Lake District mountains running and walking, it felt quite enlightening to now see a whole new perspective, on a landscape, that I thought I knew so well.

But soon I wanted more…what if this vessel of rubber, that you inflate and deflate so easily to enjoy floating on top of the water…what if…it could become the catalyst to take me on a journey, an adventure, a voyage but not just on the water?

I wasn’t into SUPping until a year and a half ago, in fact I hadn’t even stepped on a SUP or engaged in water sports – I don’t like swimming so why should I? But when I was offered a go on a SUP, I was soon captivated. I enjoyed about 4 ‘pootle’ paddle board trips on the lake and then my friend and I concocted a plan to paddle the length of Lake Windermere (10.5 miles). We had very little idea about whether we were able to achieve that or not (what with being novice) and so, with very little experience or training, we gave it a go. It was surprisingly easy and very enjoyable, and that was when a seed was sown…

My background, BP (before paddling), previously I dabbled in fell walking and running, cycle touring, dancing, yoga… none of them at a serious level and being surrounded by a group of friends who were a collection of champions in local, national and even international competitive fell running scenes, any of my own accomplishments felt quite tame and insignificant. In the New Year of 2019, I injured my ankle badly with a ruptured ligament in a running race and was on crutches for a month and feeling sorry for myself. Then flu took me to bed for nearly 2 weeks. A rotten start to the new year but I was determined that it wasn’t going to continue to be a bad year. It was then, in my sick bed, that the real plotting began. Clearly the mountain running challenge I was preparing myself for that summer was now no longer an option, as the ankle recovery was going to take at least 6 months. So I needed a different focus/challenge that didn’t rely on running. I needed to think outside the box and try something new. But I already had! That kookie idea I had had the summer before whilst SUPPING the length of Lake Windermere came back to me, took hold and the journey began.
So what about…SUPPING the length of 12 iconic lakes of the Lake District in a continuous journey travelling between the Lakes on a bike with the SUP in a trailer? And that’s what I did. This summer of 2019, a 6-day journey, me and my SUP and my bike with trailer.

Friends thought the idea was a bit of an unconventional faff and, to be fair, it kind of was but I loved the unique idea of being self-sufficient, carrying all my stuff and journeying between the lakes on bike with the SUP in a trailer.

So in practise this is what it really looked like…each lake would entail 4 stages:

Cycling with the SUP in a bike trailer (used to transport kids around usually) with my paddle sticking out the back. Arriving at one end of the lake. The SUP (and equipment/clothing needed to SUP) was then left in this location. Say this was the south end of the lake (which it often was due to the wind direction).
Cycle to the other end of the lake (North) where I would leave my bike.
Run back to the south end of the lake where my SUP was waiting. I would then inflate my SUP with my pump.
Finally SUP the length of the lake from south to north. I would then deflate my SUP, roll it up and put it back in the trailer and cycle off to the next lake.

The whole circumnavigation/journey of the 11 lakes took me 6 days. Days varied in terms of how many lakes I did in a day dependent on the distance on the bike between the Lakes and the length of the lake. The longest lake being 10.5 miles long and the shortest 1 mile. Most days were about 10 – 12 hours of continuous movement (shared out between cycling, running and SUPPING) with snacks/food on the go. I stayed in a combination of YHAs and tents accompanied by friends and family for company but other than that I was proudly self-sufficient. I paddled 11 lakes in the end rather than 12. The planned visit to Ennerdale was not an option due to bad weather and difficult access. There were some hairy moments on Buttermere with gale force winds pushing me double my normal speed without having to paddle. I collected lots of other moments and stories on my journey. Most of which wouldn’t interest anyone except me but as with any adventure I learnt quite a bit about myself – character revealing rather than character building (again – no need to bore you with any of those).

The reason why I wanted to share my story is not because I think it is an incredible feat/challenge or story of great courage but I wanted to share how easy it is for someone (such as a novice like myself) to enjoy. I was forced to try something new and I am actually really grateful, that I had the opportunity, to be inspired to create my own adventure. It has reminded me how great it is to have to think outside the box. The enjoyment and liberation you get from planning your own challenge is immense: no one to live up to and no one has journeyed there before. SUPPING has been a very magical addition to my life, given me a new perspective on the world, slowed me down, mellowed me out and been a new friend to enable me to discover a unique voyage. I hope my story inspires other new SUPPERS that they can do the same. Last little thought…I have come to the conclusion that kneeling on the board in gale force winds is not cowardly – it’s downright survival. Can you still say I have SUPPED the 11 lakes? Absolutely damn right I have!

A huge thank you to Rachel for choosing to share her story with us!

We hope it has inspired you to think outside the box and create your own adventure!

Finding More From Morocco’s Mountains

03/03/2020 / no comments

Finding More From Morocco's Mountains

By Sarah Locke

For many, Morocco conjures visions of palm tree-fringed pools, beautiful gardens hidden behind city walls and surf camps littering the turquoise coastline. While not immune to these charms, I was visiting for something completely different – to walk Morocco’s mountains.

It’s around 7am in Marrakech and the call to prayer has commenced in the mosque. It reverberates through the market, across the square, and now winds around the stairs of our riad hostel until it eventually stirs me from a restless sleep. I’m an early riser; a habit usually frowned upon by friends at home, but here I fit in with the local rhythm.

I’m excited about the adventure ahead. Driving through the city, colour catches us at every corner. Street hawkers shout to have their wares heard above their neighbours’, and a mixture of smells; fruit, flowers and local cooking, seep through my cracked window.
While I’m desperate to explore the maze of people and produce, it’s the mountains I came for and ahead of me; I’ve got many hours cramped in a bus travelling on uncomfortable roads.

The Atlas Mountains span three countries across North Africa; Morocco, Algeria and Tunisia. Until fairly recently, they’ve been left off the list of top tourist traps – but not for long, the West is waking up and their peaks are becoming increasingly explored.

The mini bus rattles into Imlil, the final town before we take to the footpath. The cold hits me as soon as I step foot outside. Blessed with unusually poor circulation, the tips of my fingers have already lost their pinkish hue. I make a beeline for the nearest second-hand mountain kit store in search of ski gloves; my knitted ones won’t cut the mustard.

The sky is bright blue. A combination of brilliant colour and the freshness of air only found up in the mountains or by the sea. It’s bitterly cold, but our guide, Mohammed, is wearing half the number of layers I am and remains insistent we’ll warm up once we get going. It’s April and though the northern hemisphere is beginning to warm up, I can still see the peaks up ahead dusted ominously with a white icy frosting.

The beginning of a hike is just as appealing as the summit for me and the excitement of the unknown is the only thing powering my legs. This particular pre-amble takes us through numerous hamlets scattered around the base of the Atlas’s, around the fringes of farmland and numerous rose cotton plantations. I can hear the sound of donkeys in the valley below and the smell of tagine cooked on stoves floats through open windows. These are the details the slow speed of hiking forces you to feel in high definition – you don’t experience this to this extent in any another mode I’m sure.

Two hours in and I can feel my feet start to sink into my boots – we’re only just warming up. Half way up the first valley, just at the fringes of one of the last villages, is a little house with a modest veranda overlooking the valley and Imlil in the distance below. A local man comes out from behind a wooden door and wordlessly begins hand pressing orange juice for us. Sat on the sandy floor, we soak it in – epic undisturbed views across the landscape, tangy orange on tongues, harsh sunlight furrowing brows. The noise of Marrakech has long been forgotten.

After lunch, we pass a church, pristine and vibrant blue against the backdrop of red dust coloured mountains. Mohammed tells me that single women give gifts here in the hope of being blessed with a husband. Sarcastic comments from my female companions ensue. From this, Mohammed notes that westerners do it differently; he doesn’t know any women who hike. He takes a moment and says he doesn’t actually know a reason for this, since we aren’t holding anyone back. I take a moment to enjoy that.

By the time we reached mountainside refuge, we’re all a different degree of pink-cheeked, but the same level of spent. The refuge is just at the bottom of snow line, and after eight hours of relatively peaceful hiking, we’re suddenly surrounded by people, noise, food and warmth.

Dinner is cosy and we crowd round a large table. The wall lined with photos of previous successful summits dating back to when the refuge was first opened. In preparation for the summit tomorrow, over bowls of tagine and games of cards, we hear from our guides and fellow hikers, about previous expeditions and what to expect.

Before bed, we’re each given crampons to fit and wear over our walking boots to deal with the ice and the first waves of nervousness shroud us. The bunkbeds in the refuge are made up of ten or more rows of beds, side by side. I’m not sure if this is an upgrade or downgrade from the bunkbed in Marrakech yet, only the night will tell.

My wake up is 5am and the cold, once again, is consuming. I wonder if it’s still called a wake up if you don’t sleep. The snoring from friends and strangers make this dubious.

Crampons firmly strapped to walking boots, we begin our ascent. The dark envelopes us and for at least the first two to three hours, we’re solely focussed on following the footsteps of the person in front, desperate not to slip on ice.

As the sun starts to rise, the dull ache in my calves is replaced once again by excitement and the monotony of my footsteps replenished by a quicker, more irregular pace. The summit is beautiful. 4,167m above the desert amidst crystal clear blue sky. There’s a large triangular plaque at the top with words of encouragement and celebration from previous summiteers, and while we rest at the top we’re joined by a few more hiking groups. Again, it feels odd to be surrounded by people in such a remote location.

On the way down we’re weightless with achievement and I feel almost drunk trying to keep my legs steady, battling the combination of steep incline and ice. We reach the refuge once again and this time the bunk beds are no bother – the nap turns into a deep slumber. Once awoken, we have to make the final descent just as the weather closes in and blue skies are replaced by rain. The red sand under our feet becomes a muddy slurry and by the time we reach the bottom, we’re soaked through with mud clumped around our boots.

With every step down the mountain, I warm a little more and we lose base layers every twenty minutes. Once in front of a fire (another tagine in my hand), the blood has returned back to my fingertips almost as quickly as it left.

To see more of Sarah’s adventures you can follow her on INSTAGRAM

The Ride of My Life

05/03/2019 / no comments

The Ride of My Life

By Danielle Lovett

In the middle of October 18 my world went into a spin, the build up over the preceding year or two had reached its climax. I finally caved into the pressure and admitted defeat; I wasn’t functioning as a human and couldn’t do my job. I was burnt out, mentally unwell, exhausted. I was all over the shop.

Around about the same time my path crossed with a nutter whose passion was mountain biking @adammtbrider86. I had dabbled a couple of times in what i thought was just “riding a bike in the woods”, but had no concept of the sport. He exposed me to the world of mountain biking and I became utterly obsessed.

Blake Samson started to feature in my dreams, teaching me how to jump. I watched red bull rampage in awe, Neil Donoghue voice was ruminating around my head telling me the steps to manual.

13 weeks ago I walked into @racecocyclesuk and Rich introduced me to my baby. I went 3 times over my budget but haven’t looked back since.

To obsess over how to do front wheel lifts, bunny hops and track stand, which I would practice in my living room, was therapy. Watching endless Global Mountain Bike Network clips stopped me from dwelling on my situation. Getting into the beautiful outdoors during autumn lifted the heaviness surrounding me. Alex at Chase Skills put me through the basics. I met two more awesome mtb nuts on his course, @b0z83 @a_song_of_blood_and_metal. We are equally obsessed and clueless. #allthegearnoidea. Adam has been a continuous source of motivation and help, coaching me and constantly telling me to relax!! He refers to me as a cardboard cut out on my bike. Brutal but true.

15 weeks ago i had no idea where I would be. I never expected to be sitting here covered in bruises with mud in my nails buzzing from an amazing ride at FoDmtb with MTB BEDS beaming from receiving a prize for being the most committed rider.

If it wasn’t for mountain biking I don’t think I would be where I am now. It has opened my world to an amazing sport, awesome people, beautiful places and facing fear and smashing it in the face.

On-wards and upwards or DH, if I grow a pair.

Danielle has started a blog to share her experience and bike adventures, check it out HERE.

Interview – Caroline of CONQUER Lake District

10/11/2018 / no comments

Interview

Caroline Fisher

of

CONQUER Lake District

CONQUER Lake District is a local business specialising in the design and creation of awesome hiking patches which are based on the fells right here in The Lake District.

They offer a wide array of designs from low lying fells achievable by all through to some of the most iconic mountains the Lake District has to offer.

When we discovered CONQUER we were like kids at Christmas… The urgency to collect them all, get out and summit the fells we had yet to discover & marveling over what our favourite one might be but in reality being unable to choose!

Then there was the moment of revelation that CONQUER was the brain child and creation of a local Wild Woman, mother and now new business entrepreneur we just HAD to find out more…

I would love to be able to boast a huge family heritage of fell walkers and ramblers. I’m rather envious of people who can pull out a polaroid of great grandpa on Scafell pike in 1960, but that’s not how it is for me. I’m very late to the party.

I’ve always lived on the edge of the National Park and for the majority of my life been oblivious to the wonder that it is. Life was just too hectic to look up and see what was around me. I’ve been a police officer, a very busy Mental Capacity Advocate and in the last few years a stay at home mum. It was at this time that I started exploring the Lakeland fells on my own. My first fell was Rannerdale Knotts, I was carrying a dog lead and a car key, I didn’t even have a drink with me! Let’s just say it was an experience! So, I got myself some basics together, a rucksack, fleece, water bottle, one-woman survival tent! and just had a go. I loved it and it soon became a family activity. There really is nothing more technical to add. It hasn’t led to anything extreme, I haven’t completed the Wainwrights, in fact to say I was even collecting them would leave me seriously lacking. But that’s the beauty of The Lakes, you can explore at your own pace and take the achievements as they come. That’s what our patches are all about. They represent everyone’s moments, whether it’s a first fell, a once in a life time, or actually you’re a seasoned walker waiting for our collection to catch up.

I never anticipated how popular the patches would become. I had no ambitions to become a business owner. It was following an early morning walk up Raven Crag with my husband that we got talking to a couple in their campervan. Needless to say, two months on we too owned a campervan and while my husband was working on having seatbelts fitted for the kids, I was working on the necessities…….stickers, bunting and fairy lights! During my search I came across some vintage hiking patches from Canada and America. They were so cool, and I desperately wanted that retro element for our van but there was nothing out there that represented our National Park, so I had to make them myself. I’ve always been artistic and found that the ideas flowed very naturally. However, I didn’t have a clue about graphic design or the computer programme that I would have to transfer my work to in order to be manufactured. I spent weeks learning from classroom books and the past few months have been a mixture of hard work and winging it!

There have been so many high points to date. Selling out on line, being approached by a magazine for a feature, Kendal Mountain Festival getting in touch and actually knowing who we were! Probably the biggest buzz has to come from all the pictures we get sent of people with their patches. Particularly children who have chosen to spend their valuable pocket money on something that I’ve created and are there clutching them at the top of Catbells in gale force winds with huge grins on their faces. Absolutely nothing compares to that. I would say that is probably what motivates me most in business. I love the engagement with people, and its those interactions that always make me want to do my best. I received an email from a little girl telling me that she had her first holiday to the Lake District and had earned her Catbells patch but that she would also like a Latrigg patch please. So when the patch came out, I sent one to her with a letter explaining the design and which route she might have taken and about the paragliders and even the lady who sells tea and cakes in the car park. I was later told that the patch and letter had been taken to school for show and tell and the little girl had been so proud. I love that. I also see my fair share of photos where the kids are utterly miserable, with mum behind the camera saying, “just hold the damned patch up,” and I love those pictures just as much! Kids can be hilarious.

Being a parent and starting a new business hasn’t been too bad for me (although I’ve chosen not to get my kids perspective on this!) I think starting out can be quite stressful and very time consuming though. In the first couple of months I was opening the laptop at 7am and shutting it well after midnight. My temper shortened a little and I signed reading records without actually listening to the kids read. Ten chapters in one night seemed a little excessive but hey, I signed for it anyway! I have much better working hours now, the computer is still switched on early, but it is shut down by the time the kids get home from school. If I were to offer any advice to parents thinking of starting a new business, it would be to go for it whole heartedly. If you see a great opportunity but you don’t think you have all the skills, seize it anyway and then learn how to make it work. You don’t always have to be the finished article at the start of the journey. Also, cut yourself some slack. Over the last few months my kids have eaten a Pot Noodle or two and have written their names in the dust that’s collected on the mantlepiece and I’ve learnt to be ok with that.

I’m really excited to see what 2019 brings for CONQUER Lake District. It has always been my intention for the business to become rooted in its landscape and to be able to support the amazing people and organisations that donate their time to protecting it. We have already been working with some charities and hopefully next year will see us cement relationships and develop some long-term projects. Obviously, we have lots of awesome products in the pipeline too……….stay tuned.

To see more of CONQUER Lake District you can find them on Instagram & Facebook.

Check out their WEBSITE to get your hands on your own hiking patch!

For those local to The Lake District, CONQUER Patches will also be on sale over the Kendal Mountain Festival weekend at base camp – go check them out!

Get Outside & Collect them all!!!

Interview – Faye Whelan Reflexology

07/11/2018 / no comments

Interview

Faye Whelan of Faye Whelan Reflexology

Mental health, one of the most serious and complex issues faced in today’s society.

The connection between spending time outdoors and the improvement of mental well-being has been well researched and documented.

Here at WWW we are big advocates of small manageable lifestyle changes and everyday adventures to improve physical and metal well-being. One Wild Woman who is a perfect example of this is Faye Whelan. Faye grabs life with both hands and it has been a joy to see her growth and journey over the past couple of years.

We caught up with Faye to find out more about her and delve a little deeper into what we see through social media…

Tell us a little bit about yourself & your journey to setting up Faye Whelan Reflexology...

I grew up in South Lakes, going to school in Kendal and studied at Kendal College. I still live in Kendal and I can’t imagine living anywhere else as I have everything around me, friends, family, the mountains and lakes. I am a self-employed support worker for children and adults with disabilities based in the community of South Lakes. Being a support worker is very rewarding and I feel lucky to have a job which I love so much. 18 months ago I studied reflexology and I now do this alongside my care work. I set up my business ‘Faye Whelan Reflexology’ in May 2018, I hire a treatment room in Kendal one day a week and combine home visits to fit in around my care work. I enjoy the variety of both my jobs and being self-employed gives me some freedom and flexibility. Setting up a business is daunting but with support from others so far it has been a success and I have some plans to develop this further next year….

You are a big advocate for everyday adventures and positive mental well-being – is this something which you have had a personal journey with?

I have always enjoyed being outdoors. Growing up we had ponies so every day after school and weekends would be spent at the stables with my Dad and my sister. My Dad would also spend his free time on the fells and I think that is where I have found my passion for the mountains. I enjoy gaining new experiences and going on adventures and seeking adrenaline. Being in the outdoors gives me the space to clear my head which is I find helps my anxiety and depression which I have battled with for a few years. Also meeting like-minded people with a love for the outdoors has helped me accept that it’s ok to not be ok. I believe that the outdoors is healing and one of the best places to share personal stories. Also, the challenge of testing my limits outdoors and gaining new experiences is a positive achievement and I am happiest when outdoors.

You recently took up outdoor swimming, can you tell us a little bit about how you got started?

Since I was about 10 I have had a fear of deep water due to having an asthma attack during swimming lessons at school. This has stuck with me and I wanted to overcome my fear, so I set myself a challenge of signing up to do the Great North Swim in June 2017; what better way to conquer a fear than literally jump in the deep end! I gave myself 5 months to train. I did my first outdoor swim in April 2016 with a wetsuit and the feeling was incredible how invigorating it was being outdoors in the water. I completed the GNS in about 50 minutes and so far, that is my biggest achievement in the outdoors and I now love being in the water. I joined buoy 13 swim club and did my first non-wetsuit swim on Christmas Eve 2017 and I have stayed wetsuit free since. The cold fresh water also helped me with my anxiety and depression as it puts the mind in the present moment, there is no time to think of anything else, just focus the mind on the present and breathe through it. Also, I find there is such a positive achievement from doing this and again I have met some great people who are all so encouraging and supportive. It amazes me at what you can train your body to do and to overcome. (New Years Day 2018 swim in Derwentwater)

What would you say most motivates to get into the outdoors?

Being outdoors is something I try to do each day, even on ‘down’ days as I know I always feel a little bit better after. I’m content in going for a solo walk and I sometimes prefer this than being in company as it allows me the space to clear my mind properly. I have also taken up sleeping in a hammock this summer, which was amazing sleeping under the stars amongst the trees. To me there is no better way to wake up than to be around nature. I’m not one to spend a day indoors so usually first thing in a morning I either go to the stables, go for a swim in the lake or go for a walk, being outdoors is a good way for me to start the day. My favourite place is Scout Scar as it is close to where I grew up in Brigsteer, where my parents still live. I often just pop on there even if its just to stand and watch the sun set or just to clear my head, there are amazing views all around and so many different walks to take.

Have there been any particular highs or lows which stand out on any of your outdoor adventures?

Highs- a high for me was I did a solo sunrise walk up Helvellyn in July. I set off walking at 3am to catch the sunrise at 5am. This was an emotional journey for me as it brought back a lot of memories which I had tried to forget. I really wanted to turn around as I had a panic attack, but I pulled myself through and carried on to watch an amazing sunrise and I never saw another soul. The achievement if doing this was so positive and I felt proud of myself.

On top of Helvellyn for solo sunrise walk

Lows- I recently did Snowdon via Crib Goch and this really tested my limits. I haven’t done much scrambling before, so this was a new one for me and for the first time hiking I felt scared. I honestly didn’t think I could do it but with good guidance and reassurance we took it a little bit at a time and I did it. So the low then turned into a high as I was determined to complete it and I did.

Do you have any advice or tips for someone who may be going through challenging times that they are struggling with?

Talk about it. Don’t be afraid to ask for help and support. One of the biggest challenges for me was going to the doctors and accepting that I had anxiety and depression but with the amazing support from family and friends I am getting through my journey. Every night before I go to sleep I write down one positive thing that happened in the day. It can be as simple as ‘I got through a bad day’ to ‘the sun was shining’ but it’s all about training your mind to look at the positive. Also, I am a big believer that the outdoors helps clear your mind and would encourage anyone going through a challenging time to spend a bit of time outdoors and make it part of your routine. Find things to focus on and set goals.

What exciting ventures are you most looking forward to in the near future?

I have set myself a challenge this past year of completing 30 things to do before I’m 30 and on that list is to travel so in the next few months I am going to New York, New Zealand and Australia. I am nearly through my list and it has been a great focus for me this past year and has really helped me get through a challenging time. I have a few adventures in the pipeline for next year but no definite plans as yet.

See more of Fayes ‘Everyday Adventures’ by following her on Instagram

For all your reflexology needs you can find her HERE

Lakes In A Day 2018

29/10/2018 / no comments

Lakes In A Day 2018

Photography by Henry Iddon, Paul Mitchell & Paul Hands

What is ‘Lakes In A Day’ … 50 miles, 4000m ascent

A journey on foot from the very top of the Lake District at Caldbeck to the very bottom, at Cartmel, via the stunning Helvellyn Ridge and the western shoreline of Lake Windermere.

A day never to be forgotten by all who participated!

Here we share a selection of stories from a range of women who decided, for their own diverse reasons, to take on Lakes In A Day 2018.

Sarah Gerrish

I signed up for ‘Lakes In A Day’ back in February. A birthday present to myself. The next challenge to keep me focused over the year ahead. I had joined a local fell running club, Helm Hill, only 10 months prior and training had started for the WWW 36 Hour Relay Challenge. By June I would be covering 36 miles over the Lake District Fells… what was another 14miles hey?! There was plenty of recovery time between June and October as well as opportunity to recce the route! Plenty of time!!!

I threw myself into training early in the year. I had run a couple of marathons in the past but they had been on the road and flat! It wasn’t so much the distance that had me nervous… but the elevation gain! I scheduled in the long fell runs, much of which were focused on recceing the route for the relay challenge. June came and passed, the relay was a success… an adventure in its own right (more to come on this in a later post!), but the training and sudden increase in weekly distance had taken its toll. I was injured. I was also mentally exhausted with juggling training and ‘life’, and so I took a much-needed month off from running.

No sooner was I feeling back to myself and it was time to head off on a (nearly) 4-week adventure to Canada. I spent the first week running regularly & exploring our friends’ local trails around Revelstoke – it was then time for the Kamloops Marathon. My road running had taken a serious back seat since channelling all my running energy towards the fells, but I was excited to see what I had in me! The route was beautiful! It didn’t disappoint! And I was absolutely thrilled to finish 4th female. It wasn’t my fastest marathon time but that didn’t matter – I was there for the experience & I loved it! The rest of the trip saw little to no running at all – just quality family time and adventures – it was a trip of a lifetime. Jetlag and holiday blues then set in once home and with-it weeks feeling completely unmotivated. Energy depleted. But time was ticking on. I still hadn’t recced ANY of the LIAD route and I felt like I had lost ALL my running fitness which I had worked so hard to build up earlier in the year. I hadn’t of course but a racing mind does little to sooth your worries! My diary was packed. September had only a couple of weekend opportunities to get out and see what the fell section of the race was all about, leaving the trail section from Ambleside to Cartmel to be done in the evenings after work!

Recce one – Threlkeld to Ambleside: Following an evening at The Grasemere Guzzler and subsequently spending the night sleeping on the back seat of my VW Golf spooning the dog, I awoke early to get going – a lunch date with a friend was calling. Kit ready, I thought I was prepared before bedding down but awoke to realise that I had left my breakfast in the family van – only two parking spaces away, but housing a sleeping child! NEVER WAKE A SLEEPING CHILD! I’d have to set off without it! It was too early to grab anything on route – Sunday morning in the lakes… nothing opens before 10am and so my emergency bumbag flapjack would have to get me through! I set off – the weather was grim – visibility was poor. It was a tough recce, out there alone, feeling tired, hungry and emotional! Time ticked by and I felt stressed that I was going to be late to meet my friend. I eventually reached Ambleside, was greeted by the family and shuttled back to Threlkeld for my car & lunch was quickly consumed. Reflecting on the morning I thought ‘Well I’ve done that at its worst at least it couldn’t be harder on the day’ … hmmmm!!!!

Recce two – Caldbeck to Threlkeld: This recce started a bit more positively. My daughter was with the grandparents and there were no real time constraints. Even the weather looked ok. I got to Caldbeck, parked up and was quickly off. With no one around to run with me or pick up, this was going to have to be an out and back. All was going fine – visibility went as soon as I hit High Pike but the route was fairly clear and I was able to straightline for the river once on the other side. Once at the river I then had a good 30 minutes trying to scope out the best place to cross. After a few tries I eventually made it across and was on the ascent up towards Blencathra. Once Blencathra was in my sights the wind had picked up and I was suddenly aware of being pretty cold. Movement had been a little slow. The cloud was whipping through and I really didn’t fancy the prospect of going up. After a bit pf a pep talk I decided to bail, turn around and head back… this was a recce after all to learn the sections I didn’t know and I was fairly familiar with Blencathra and Halls Fell ridge from my days recceing the 36-hour relay route. After this recce I became a bit nervous regarding my fitness levels. If I didn’t have the energy to get up and over Blencathra this time how on earth was I going to get all the way to the end in just a few weeks?!

The next couple of weeks passed in a blur of illness and back pain! Once out the other side there were a couple of frantic post work evening recces of the last two sections, one being the Monday before the race and before I knew it I was on to the home straight and ‘tapering’. Throughout the week I was checking the weather constantly (much like I’m sure the other 300+ runners were!). Repeating my mantra ‘it’ll be fine’ over and over again I tried not to panic. I live in the Lakes after all, I’m used to a bit of rain… BUT THAT WIND!!!! I do not fair well in high winds particularly when on the tops of mountains!!!

I was late to the party in terms of joining the Facebook group dedicated to those running LIAD. It was a double-edged sword – no sooner had I joined and I was wishing I hadn’t. The barrage of posts discussing the weather, kit, travel arrangements etc were NOT helping my nerves! It’s important to highlight that when I say late to the party I mean the week before the event – it had TOTALLY snuck up on me! Where had the summer gone?! and I’m sure had I joined earlier I would have found it invaluable for support! Since the event itself it has been great to see and hear everyone’s take on the day!

I awaited eagerly for James (Open Adventure) email insisting that the lower level route would need to be followed. That email never came. I soon realised that this was no ordinary event organiser! I have to admit though that if we had been forced to follow the lower route I would have felt cheated in some way and I would have definitely felt compelled to comeback next year whether I really wanted to or not!

As it was, the run was to go ahead as planned. The hectic schedule didn’t slow down in the run up to the big day! The night before I raced around registering, grabbing a very healthy and energy fueling bag of chips for tea and headed to Kendal to support my husband and his ‘One More Brew’ project. A lovely evening seeing friends and watching some great films centered around the biking world. 10:30pm arrived and it really was time to be getting home – I rounded up my daughter who was insistent on ‘helping’ clear up… just get in the car already!!! And dropped her off at the grandparents on route to home. In bed for 12am, alarm set for 4:45am… not the restful night sleep I had envisaged!

Thankfully I didn’t sleep in!!!! I was up and out the door by 5am – luckily, I only live 2 miles away from Cartmel. I had my change at the ready for breakfast and I was looking forward to my egg butty on the bus drive up to Caldbeck… Que the sit down on the bus, bite of my butty… and yolk all over my water proof trousers! Delightful!

My bus neighbours got chatting and the journey up went surprisingly quick! The egg butty was only half demolished as race nerves kicked in and I found I just couldn’t stomach anymore. Upon arriving at Caldbeck everyone made the expected pre-race dash for the loos and then it was time to question everything I had packed. Layers went on, then came back off again. Bananas were relocated to less ‘dangerous’ pockets and I eyed the giant map wondering whether I could be bothered to get my phone out of its waterproof housing and ask someone to take a photo of me in front of it. I couldn’t, and so instead skulked off to find my spot within the crowd, ready to start.

A little intro from James, informing us the river had risen significantly and as a result a rope had been put in place to aid our crossing, a cheer for all the incredible type 1 diabetic athletes taking part and we were off!!! I got settled into a good pace. The weather wasn’t anything too challenging at this point and before I knew it I had crossed the river and had Blencathra in my sights. The ascent up Blencathra saw people head off in three directions… I aimed for the middle and took the line which traversed the scree hitting a trail a little further up. Next came the decision – Halls Fell Ridge or Not Halls Fell Ridge?? … The wind had dropped significantly and so with only the wet to worry about I figured it HAD TO be the ridge! I started my decent. This had to be the most fun section of the whole run! I was also really happy to hear from a marshal half way down that I was the third female at that point. I was buzzing!

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Arriving into the feed station I spotted a friend Holly who was volunteering. A few Danish pastries and a chat later it was time to get going. By this point the rain was bouncing again but I was really enjoying myself and feeling psyched for the hardest section to come. I was moving fairly steady, happy with the pace. Conversation with other runners was non-existent until I reached the ascent up to Clough Head. I got chatting with a guy who hadn’t done the race before and had no idea what was before him… I couldn’t help but feel lucky to be a ‘local’ and have had that time, however brief, to prepare.

I had no sooner been saying “I’m really glad the wind is not as high as what it was forecast” and I reached the summit of Clough Head. Whoosh! 50+ mph winds and utterly rubbish visibility. Luckily there was a good stream of runners and I wasn’t out there on my own. Heads down, just keep moving… and so that’s how it went. I stopped briefly to get some stones out of my shoe, which had nestled in there on the Halls Fell decent. Mistake no.1 – I blinked and everyone had gone. In my head down, keep moving state I hadn’t kept a good eye on the map and now here I was in the clag completely disorientated! Unfortunately (for them), someone else had also been following me and we tried to figure out what had gone wrong. “I think its this way”… “No, it can’t be this way – we are losing too much height, we shouldn’t be dropping down like this” … “how on earth have we ended up over here when we should be there… over there on THAT ridge! I just don’t understand!!!” – panic set in and my breathing got short. Uhoh a panic attack!!! I fought to keep as calm as possible – got out the emergency GPS, worked out where we were and as the cloud blew through we saw the other runners on the ridge like little ants. We saw a way back to join them and it was ‘game back on’. It turned out my route error wasn’t quite as bad as I had thought at the time and I had simply done a little loop round and back on myself.

Upon joining back with the pack, I realised I was much further back in the group – my goal of finishing top 10 female suddenly felt out of reach and I realised I had lost quite a bit of time. The next challenge the undulating Dodds & the constant questioning… “Is this one Helvellyn?! Oh no, must be the next…!”. Once comfortably back on track I started on one of these ‘undulating’ sections and wham! I totally bonked!!! The energy zapping weather and the energy zapping panic
attack meant I could have sat down on the trail right where I was and stayed there until someone came and got me. Thank you to all the runners who passed and checked to make sure I was ok, and the lovely lady who said “oh I hope your legs are warm!” which reminded me that now probably was a good time to put my waterproof trousers on!!!

A whole pack of shot blocs were consumed, along with a couple of boiled eggs and half a litre of water. It did the trick and I was very soon moving and moving faster. What a relief. Helvellyn was reached, and Dolly Wagon was descended, Grizedale Tarn was crossed and the ascent up to Fairfield began. An unrelenting track of scree switchbacks. I discovered the packets of sweets in my pocket that I had snuffled from the Threlkeld feed station and they were quickly inhaled… I felt the energy levels drop and in the bad weather it had meant eating at any height along the Helvellyn range was practically impossible. The sweets were a welcomed boost to reach the top.

On Fairfield, visibility and wind conditions didn’t improve, however, I had made the age-old Fairfield moonscape ‘which way now?’ mistake before and was confident in my choice of direction. This time I WOULD NOT be heading off down towards Patterdale… nope, not today thank you! Descending down Fairfield to Ambleside saw the wind really pick up here. I was bent over trying to keep low as I scrambled over the slippy rock, looking for the best lines and in the end just settling for moving in the right direction. It was on this section where I saw a guy being wiped out by the wind, his legs swept from beneath him, landing on the rock. Another guy further down, who the wet & harsh conditions had got the better of him. Wrapped in the emergency bivvy bag that was a ‘must’ on the event kitlist he was being well looked after by fellow runners. By the time I reached the field of cows and shale path I had passed 3 mountain rescue vehicles making their way up. I genuinely hope all who needed assistance were ok and have made full recovery since.

Ambleside! Hurrah! I ran through Ambleside following the smell of pizza with a big smile on my face!

I had made it! Relief! On entering the feed station, I was grateful to see a familiar friendly face behind the table dishing out pizza and cake! I filled my mug with tea and headed first for the toilets for a full outfit change – I was soaked to the bone! No waterproof kit of any kind was ever going to keep that amount of water out. Mistake no 2 – always pack a spare pair of pants! I am usually rigorous with this rule but oh no, EVERYTHING BUT in this case! Warm and dry, it was time for food… PIZZA!!! Warm, cheesy pizza. Amazing. The atmosphere was pretty electric and there were many who were taking the time to sit, chat and change their shoes ready for the last 20 miles. I had taken the decision not to change my shoes, but had listened to the advice of past runners and packed a spare pair of socks… two spare pairs of socks in fact… but oh no, no pants!!!

Conscious that I had lost some time when getting lost and then bonking I decided to not stop for too long and there was no chance that I was sitting down! I’d never get back up again. So 20 mins later I was back out, smug in my dry new warm layers. At Rothay Park the route took a different direction to what I had anticipated – I later learned that two friends who had been on marshalling duty had been working tirelessly to reroute out of Ambleside in order to keep the race and runners moving and avoiding the dangers of burst river banks and flooding. Thank you Davy & Gillie!

Then came my first supporters! I could have cried I was so relieved to see my husband and a couple of friends waiting to cheer me on. I quickly relayed the events of the previous 30 miles, had a hug and was eager to keep moving. I hadn’t even got out of Ambleside and I found myself wading through some flash flooding up to my knees. There goes the dry socks and warm legs!

The final 20 miles went past in a dark blur of torrential downpours, wading waist deep through Windermere, shifting floating debris & climbing over fallen trees. This should have been the faster runnable section but the weather had different ideas! To my blessing Jackie showed up, a good friend who had been tracking me and was there for moral support, along with the husband and co who kept leap frogging me and cheering me on just when I needed it. At High Dam Mr P and Riley waited patiently for me to appear through the darkness and lifted the spirits once again. This was the leg for supporters! They are invaluable! On a race as mentally challenging as this – its those positive interactions which help to shift your mindset and get you through it!

Coming off Bigland into the final few miles I was able to relax – if not get a little bit bored pounding the pavement, as I followed the road which is my usual lunchtime run at work. I’d done this bit goodness knows how many times over the past five years – I knew Cartmel was only a mile or so away and yet it seemed to take forever! It was a surreal moment reaching Cartmel at just past midnight. One of my bosses was at the pub and we had been talking in the week about how she would nip out to cheer me on for the final few hundred metres! Being later than expected, I didn’t think she’d be still there but as I turned into the square I saw her silhouette ahead of me… “Sarah?! Sarah is that you?!”… “Hi Margaret!” *frantically waves*… “Yeh, go Sarah!” shouts the random lady having a smoke a no doubt slighting tiddly! I couldn’t help but laugh.

And there it was Cartmel School. The finish. What a day!

Over the course of the day there was ABSOLUTELY no chance that I would be putting myself through that ordeal again! But as the race analysis took shape the discussion gradually changed to “Well maybe! If I can get through it in those weather conditions then I’d love to see how I’d do in clear weather!”… This also goes for the winner Katie Kaars. I seriously hope the weather improves next year! I would love to see just how fast she can run it!

CONGRATULATIONS TO ALL WHO MADE IT TO THE START LINE! It will be 16 hours & 13 minutes I will remember for the rest of my life!

Kel Richardson

Lakes in a day – 2018… A big ask at any time of your life. Big miles, big hills, wild weather and the pressure of time limits in the form of cut offs!

But this had become more than a race for me. You see I’d sat in bed with my husband and watched a tiny blip that was my friend Jane completing this race 2 years previously. We’d decided that we needed a piece of this in our lives and pledged to run it together.

We had other race commitments last year so this was our year… Then in April the most unimaginable event turned my life upside down.

My husband took his own life.

As you can imagine, this took the life from my soul, the wind from my sails and most definitely the energy to run from my legs! But during those months of fog that is known as grief two things gave me a chink of light. My running buddy plagued me daily until I ran again. No agenda, no set distance or plan….just to run.

Then I received word that the race organiser was offering all type 1 diabetics (I have type 1) a free entry to LIAD. So…….I entered.

Before I knew it race day was here and I had to face the music of not enough trainings, too much weight gained and a head that was still weighed down with grief. Packing for the event, the lead up to it and the weekend itself was a very good distraction for me. It’s the best I’ve felt since Ian died.

I met up with friends, ate in pubs, chatted nervously with other runners and generally absorbed myself in anything that had nothing to do with the death of my husband. Don’t get me wrong Ian drifted into my thoughts on several occasions throughout the race weekend. When the weather was biblical and blowing me off my feet I giggled to myself and thought ‘Ian would have loved this’. When I was struggling and getting negative thoughts I heard him say ‘come on chick, it’s temporary pain’.

That run was so much more than a run, it was camaraderie that you can only achieve by shared suffering, it was life affirming, it was wild and windier than I knew possible, it was an all day buffet, it was a lesson in nature (who knew leeches existed in the lakes) it was everything that my life of grief wasn’t!

So I ran the length of the Lake District over lots of hills in one day in absolutely horrific weather and I loved every single second of it!!!!

Lessons I learned from that race;

Mother Nature is a tough bitch….but so am I!
I don’t like leeches!
My body will carry on for much longer than my head thinks it will!
My bum cheeks chafe when wet!
I have a life to live!!!!
So I am eagerly waiting for entries to open again for next year.

Ursula Moore

I did LIAD as my first ultra (and first over 26 mile run) this year in the midst of storm Callum.

I naively downloaded a runners world ‘how to train for your first ultra’ back in early summer and started trying to for the training runs around my shift work. I was already a keen fell runner and managed to do many of my runs as summer fell series races or with my running club, Pensby Runners.

About 2 months out I got tonsillitis and was off running for a couple of weeks which really knocked my confidence and so before race day the longest I had managed was 30 miles over 2 days. Then I saw the weather forecast and told all my family that I wasn’t going to do it – including the night before the race.

We were in Ambleside for a week’s holiday anyway and I woke up at 5am on race day just to check..and yes it was raining. I started to try to go back to sleep but got so annoyed at myself that I woke up my partner and got him to drive me to the start. That was probably the hardest bit.

Once I got going I really enjoyed it – often in a type 3 fun kind of way- but being out with so many others, laughing at how crazy we were really pulled me along. I found the last 20 miles the toughest, with the never ending lake wading, but at that point the camaraderie of ultras really kicked in and I found a well matched lovely gent from Durham to run the last 20 miles with. I was very excited to come in 3rd lady – but more pleased that I had made myself get out of bed and over the start line in the first place!

Sally Golightly

I entered Lakes in a Day after hearing two runners talk about it in a pub. At that point I had been running for just under two years, my furthest race was a marathon. I wasn’t a ‘proper’ runner but enjoyed getting out for some peace away from a busy home.

The week before, as my tapering began, my anxiety hit the roof. I expected to have low points during the race but not in the run up. I did lots of yoga and tried to rest as much as possible, sticking affirmations around the house, to which the kids added their own ‘do it do it do it do it…’ My aim was to finish in under 20 hours but as the weather forecast worsened, my aim was to finish alive.

Stood on the start line, the anxiety eased and as I started running I felt strong. Without a doubt Lakes in a Day was the hardest thing I have ever done, for me it was much harder than either of my labours. I hadn’t considered that I would be so wet and so cold for the entire race. I didn’t know that it was possible for the wind to blow so hard it could shift the contact lenses in my eyes. I had never been on the fells in such conditions. I didn’t know that when the wind was so strong you had little control over where your feet landed or that paths turned into rivers. I didn’t know that after Ambleside it wouldn’t get any harder but it certainly wouldn’t get any easier.

If I had known how hard it was, I wouldn’t have carried on. But I did. For the first time I understood exactly what it was like to run a race in your head, the little mental games I played to keep one foot in front of the other. I ran across that finish line after 19 hours and 17 minutes so pleased with myself to make my original sub 20 goal in such conditions. Before I showered I was thinking of the next ultra. Within 24 hours I was thinking of the next Lakes in a Day.

Rosie Ireland

Having been inspired by a few female friends running adventures, I decided that my next big challenge was going to be an ultra marathon. I have never considered myself a runner, but I am mountain fit, so I decided lakes in a day was the event for me. I signed up, but didn’t dare tell anyone. I plugged away with training, getting out as much as I could. As my training progressed I started to believe the challenge was achievable, so I committed to telling people what I was planning.

The week before… You should never believe a weather forecast a week out, they are fickle things, but as the week before the event progressed the low bringing storm Callum showed no signs of abating. I packed lots of extra food and clothes and prepared for a ‘proper mountain day’. The first part of the day wasn’t as bad as expected, but the weather started to spice up once up high on the Dodds. Visibility worsened and the gusts picked up. I found a friend Sharon, a friendly Scottish music teacher who had some mountain sense. We stuck together, working as a team to navigate.

Descending Dollywaggon was the worst part of the day. Gusts stopped you in your tracks and if you were stood on the wet slabs, you would be blown over. Fortunately you could see the gust coming over the lake before they hit you. I was so glad when we reached Grizedale tarn, but the weather didn’t stop, head down we carried on. Fairfield was grim, but we knew we just needed to get to Ambleside and off the mountain before it got dark. So many people at this point were packing up, I didn’t really understand, they had done the worst of it…. there was quite a lot of negative energy for those on the verge of retirement. At this point retirement didn’t cross my mind, the back of the day was broke .

I left Sharon here and picked up two friendly chaps Richard and Stuart to carry on with. The next few hours were mainly walking and wading in the dark. Although slow going this was enjoyable. As we approached the finish it felt like a day of two halves. We crossed the finish line and felt that great sense of achievement. At times the day was certainly ‘type 2’ fun, but in hindsight a grand day out.

Anna Stopińska-Lewucha

To me running means having time to gather my thoughts and a wellbeing remedy. I’m a mum of two and one of my sons’ has Autism. Nothing defines me more that his condition; my nationality, background, education or work. If I want it or not I’m a so called “special needs” parent and this very often comes with mental health issues in a package. Running helps me to keep positive.

LIAD was my first ultra and signing up already felt like a huge achievement. Then, another accomplishment was to keep warm during the race, my waterproof clothing was simply too old and I was soaked wet through before reaching High Pike.

Stage 2 still feels unreal, I kept moving simply because I wanted to survive (in my wet gear).

Wading in the waters of Windermere would not have happened if I was on my own, our little group of 8 made it, but if I had to make it by myself I would have stayed in Ambleside.

I did finish the race and it gave me a huge sense of achievement.

Before taking the challenge I assumed that all that would happen on that day would be just up to me, my choices and my decisions. Our real power is not in our bodies (or not only), but in our minds. I kept walking and running because I knew that my husband, family and friends are tracking me and hoping that I will get there. Reading texts in Threlkeld gave me so much energy and seeing my 3 boys in Ambleside powered me through the second half of the journey.

Two weeks on and I am still hugely impressed that I, actually, ever decided to run 50 miles. And I’m back next year, since I could not stop thinking in these 20 hours that I would like to run it again, with my better and faster half.

Katie Kaars Sijpesteijn

This year’s Lake In a Day wrote a story I least expected. A story of mutual understanding. Of friendship.

I wanted to see if I could break my own record.

My number one goal in every race I do is always to do my best. To get to the finish line knowing I gave it my best shot. The record comes second.

What happened on race day I never imagined. Just over half way through the race I found myself in the lead group with the boys. We linked arms and waded across Grisedale Tarn, which looked like a wild North Sea – we were a team and I was having so much fun!

By the top of Fairfield, the team of four had become two. Me and Clarens, and to my surprise we were leading the race.

Leaving Ambleside I wondered if I might win outright – a bit of a pipe dream, but maybe it was possible. As we continued, I realised I didn’t actually want to beat Clarens, I realised I just wanted to beat myself. And the best way to do this was to work as a team.

We worked really hard together from Ambleside, exchanging words and sharing snacks. We didn’t need to talk about the prospect of what might happen in a sprint finish. There was a mutual understanding, I sensed we were finishing this together. And we did.

Ultra running can be a lonely sport but on that day it became a team sport, where we were better together than alone. A record may have been broken but more importantly a new friendship was made.

What other sport can you start as strangers and finish as friends?

“Your life will never be the same again…”

23/05/2018 / no comments

“Your life will never be the same again...”

By Rachel Willan

“Your life will never be the same again…” a phrase heard often by women during pregnancy, with the tone usually heavily weighted with negativity. It doesn’t take a genius to work out that the arrival of a miniature human in your household is going to require a change in routine and commitments. For better or for worse, the change is a new challenge, a fresh adventure.

I sit here now, 12 months on, as a mother to a beautiful, lively, little boy by day (and night!) whilst being the Nocturnal Baker by night, running my personalised celebration cake business that I brought to life during my maternity leave. My husband kisses us goodbye on a Sunday evening and returns on the Friday evening: he is a long distance HGV driver.

Let’s rewind to the Rach prior to pregnancy: I lived life at a pace that I sometimes struggled to keep up with. I was climbing the career ladder at school, taking on curriculum managerial roles whilst assisting on the family farm, racing the national downhill mountain bike series and hunting down the qualifications to allow me to be a mountain bike guide in my ‘spare’ time. I was free to go where I liked at whatever time I liked. I had dreams and ambitions – I was planning for the future and the future was full of doing.

I predicted, in my head, what people might say on discovering my news and consequently, due to caving in to my own negative thoughts and fears, I hid my pregnancy and the health complications that came with it for nearly four months. My last day mountain biking sticks vividly in my mind: being unable to join the rest of the group for a lunch break at the top of Rossett Ghyll due to the dreaded morning (all day) sickness. I tried to blag that I was just doing some detailed map checking whilst sitting far enough away not to hear, see or smell their food… a dodgy descent down Stakes Pass finished me off. I wasn’t very well, physically and emotionally. I had my wrists metaphorically slapped by my midwife the next morning and banned from my bike. I felt like I had lost everything., my connections to the things that made me, me.

A deterioration in my health led to the medical team around me signing me off work at the 5 month mark which resulted in further isolation. I was prescribed rest, Pilates and walking. There were some pretty long days ahead. To conquer the loneliness I kept myself busy until I exhausted myself. Being busy made the days pass quickly and being exhausted meant that I could sleep. People became very important to me. It goes without saying how amazing my direct family were. They never faltered and went above and beyond for me. Then there were the people who kept in touch, visited and included me and my growing bump. Life might have been changing, but the person I was wasn’t and their simple actions meant so much to me.

The doctors prescription was spot on and before long I was active again, this time on two feet rather than two wheels. It didn’t matter to my family, friends and I – outside was outside however it was done.

As my due date crept up I was on count down. 10 days until I can get back on my bike! Yey! I had in my head where my first ride would be – I’d maybe even squeeze in two rides a day! What else would you do with all that spare time on maternity leave?!

Who was I kidding? My little boy arrived on time and I fell head over heels in love in a way that I hadn’t felt before, (sorry Mark if you’re reading this, our wedding day comes a close second!).

Twenty four hours later, with my little boy at home, the first question I asked the visiting midwife was, “When can I take him outside?”. “As soon as you feel ready,” she replied. Day 1 it was. With the husband having to return to work at the end of that week, long distance wagon driving Sunday – Friday, being able to go outside together was important. I wore him everywhere I went, in a sling on my chest and at 9 weeks old he reached the summit of his first Wainright.

Even after delivering our baby, my body was still working hard to help him grow, it will bounce back to how it was before when it’s ready, I thought. Carrying him every day gradually increased my core strength as he grew too, whilst also allowing me to get out and about without worrying about burdening anybody else with the responsibility of caring for him. This would turn out to be the most disabling fear I had. The fear of being a burden in an attempt to get a little bit of ‘me’ back.

As he hit his development milestones for sitting I was able to pop him into the hiking rucksack on my back and walk further, climb higher and move faster. Whatever the weather, we were out having fun – I was being independent without shirking the responsibility of my new role. It motivated me and made me feel physically satisfied and emotionally calm. Together we scrambled on our hands and knees up slate screes, nearly got blown over sideways by summit winds and got caught out in showers that made us look like we had been wild swimming in a puddle. Despite all of that and more, we never stopped smiling. That’s the power of Lake District fresh air.

Don’t get me wrong, on the blue bird summer evenings my eyes would trace the mountain trails I fondly remembered having to myself many months prior. It’s just that my new role of being a mother gave me so much satisfaction, more satisfaction than descending down a rocky singletrack at Mach ten at that point in time.

An investment was made in a Weeride to add some variety into Jacob’s outdoor education when he was 5 months old – it gave me the chance to convert my walking legs to pedalling legs. In the early days we did minuscule rides to give him chance to practice wearing his helmet. You will only fully appreciate the enormity of this challenge if you have tried to convince a baby to wear a helmet yourself…!

With his neck strength increasing, the ride length could extend. In the northern Lake District longer rides go hand in hand with higher climbs! Jacob would find it incredibly entertaining listening to me huffing and puffing – he would flip his head back on purpose and giggle his little head off at my exhausted face. When it came to the descents, if it was a boring fire road roll he would put his head rest to good use and have a cat nap, but, if things were a bit jiggly he preferred to pretend he was riding the bike with no hands, flapping his little arms up and down in an attempt to boost our airtime.

So will my life never be the same again? I hold my hands up high in confession whilst identifying the main reason I’ve been so slow in getting back to being the ‘me’ that I was nearly 2 years ago: my own stubborn independence. Delegation is not a skill I enjoy using. Does that make me unhappy? No. I can’t put into words how it feels to share the places and experiences you love with a miniature human that you made.

I admit that because of that stubborn independence I have a weatherproof sub-1 year old (that is the most amazing little thing in the world) but he comes with his own set of terms and conditions: He gets pretty hung up about me heading out without him. I can totally relate to how he feels, I know what it is like to be left behind by people you love spending time with. It can be remedied with balance, sharing and communication.

The bottom line is: change is a challenge – life may change but the person does not.

It takes 30 seconds to check in on somebody who you think has become isolated or lonely due to challenging or changing circumstances. Embrace their changes with them and adapt. They’ll be eternally grateful and your life will be much richer for it.

Body, we need to talk.

03/03/2018 / no comments

Body, we need to talk.

By Lauren Munro-Bennett

Okay all you Wonderful Wild Women (and men) out there. I need to have a word with you.

As we are part of this pretty amazing community I think it’s safe to assume that you like the outdoors. In fact, you probably LOVE being outside. I expect you are a life ‘doer’, you embrace life and have an adventurous spirit.

You will probably swim, or enjoy a bit of climbing. You may practice Yoga, Pilates, and you may also run or do a bit of cycling. You might practice mindfulness and/or meditation.

What I am getting at here is that you all collectively make up a community who enjoy the outdoors. We all share this amazing place that is the outdoors.

And with this, I can guarantee you have great chats with amazing, awe-inspiring friends who share similar thoughts on life and who have similar aspirations. They also want to go places, take on epic challenges, live life on the edge and they are also trying to make sense of this crazy world. You will probably be very self aware and reflect on your own thoughts and actions (and actions of others).

This community shares the love for the outdoors, which then flows to sharing amazing experiences with others. You will want to lift others up in this community.

Here comes the all important question: Why don’t you give the same respect to yourself as you do to others?

It’s so common for people to say wonderful things to others but never do the same for themselves. They don’t feel good about themselves. In fact they go out their way to berate themselves (myself included – this was pointed out by my friend Lyds when we were traveling in Australia). So, from this observation I can guarantee that you don’t treat yourself with the same respect as others. What happened to that golden rule of treating others like you would like to be treated? And why don’t you give yourself the love your body deserves?

My Story

So why am I talking to you about body image? You may be skeptical. I am a 23 year old lacking life experience, right? I would be skeptical too! But here’s a a little insight into my ‘body image’ journey:

From since I can remember I have struggled with body confidence.

Now, you may be thinking “Do you really suffer with body confidence?”

You may think that because I do sport, because I may look slim, because I am lucky to have my body, because I seem to eat what I want etc, that means I will be confident in my own skin… Well, ignorance is bliss, isn’t it?

And I don’t blame you for this perception because I have also fallen in this trap numerous times times when looking at others. Even my Mum didn’t understand why I was insecure with my body: We used to go shopping together and she would get frustrated with me because I never liked the way I looked when trying clothes on. In fact, I had a full blown tantrum every time I looked in the mirror. In my eyes I used to think I looked awful. The word F-A-T always jumped into my brain. In the end I gave up trying on clothes and would wear the same clothes I was comfortable in until they had to be replaced. (I still have a pair of running leggings that I have had since I was 14 and a pair of high-waisted shorts since I was 15! They are both still going strong – even if they have stretched a little!)

Then, during University there was a period where I had a very unhealthy relationship with food and sport. Essentially I didn’t eat enough food because I thought this would make me a faster athlete. I managed to get out of this self-inflicted punishing mentality before it developed into anything more serious.

I realized that the subconscious thoughts of my appearance were very unhealthy and I was horrible about myself. But with the help of friends I have began to ‘re-wire’ my negative thought processes: I have consciously told myself to ACCEPT who I am and the way I look. This is a HUGE work in progress, but I know it’s worth it. And I know deep down that I owe this to myself.

Recently I went through a rough patch – post-travel-blues hit me pretty hard and I suffered with anxiety and depression for a few months. I was unenthusiastic about life and became an anxious mess. During this time I became lazy and stopped doing any exercise for 2 months (for those who know me, that is unheard of!). This meant I lost muscle and gained weight.

This photo below sparked the blog idea.

Me at my ‘heaviest’ [Gurnal Dubs, Potter Fell, December 2017]

I wasn’t going to post this photo on social media for a number of reasons.

I felt my tummy looked big.
I thought people would think I had got out of shape.
I wasn’t happy with the way I looked.
I wanted to project to the outside that I am still as fit as I was.

I wanted to project the best version of myself. I wanted to get the best angle. I was clinging onto the ‘Lauren at her fittest’ perspective.

But then I stopped and reeled in these thoughts. For a minute I stopped with the ‘what other people think’ stresses.

I reflected.

Were the thoughts of others greater than the enjoyment I got from this memory? And does it really matter? Plus, do other peoples thoughts on my body even matter? My answer? No, they do not. I could stress that this photo isn’t flattering or I could accept it. Accept where my body is right now.

Yes, my body has changed. Yes, I gained weight. Yes, I am not as muscular as I have been in the past. But what is important to me? I realized it is the memories I am making and the amazing things this body of mine can do. The open water swims, the walks and runs on the fells, the biking, the time spent outdoors with amazing friends. Yes, I may ‘get more in shape’ and I may get fitter again. But equally my body is going to change and I am not going to fight that.

My main body ‘hang ups’ include: the cellulite on my legs and bum, my tummy, my broad shoulders and I have ‘no hips’ (which means I unfortunately don’t make the cut for all important hourglass figure). I have also always struggled mentally with being ‘bigger’ than other athletes (particularly runners). But can I re-frame this? Instead of these being ‘body hang ups’ I want them to be ‘quirks’ about myself that I appreciate. For example my broad shoulders can get me across lakes, my legs can lug me over mountains, it’s natural to have a tummy and I am learning to accept my cellulite and body size. So, I owe a big fat thanks to my body!

Alnwick Beach [January, 2018]

The main point I want to make is that I am focusing on the incredible things my body allows me to do and adventures I can go on. I am learning to embrace the changes in my body because bodies change, priorities change, people change. At the moment I have more exciting things to do than worry about my physical appearance.

The memories I am making and the amazing things this body of mine can do are pretty damn cool. Open water swimming, walking and exploring the fells, road and mountain biking, I could go on… Rather than obsessing about what my body ‘should’ look like I am focusing on all the amazing things my body is capable of.

A friend of mine rightly said on the day this photo was taken “We are only young once so we may as well embrace it now whilst we have ‘got’ it!”( Sarah Hodgson – an inspirational sportswoman!)

#Buoy13SwimmingClub [a morning swim, Lake Windermere]

So, in a nutshell, I have body hang ups. But don’t we all? It has become accepted in our society to dislike our appearance. We have created an impossible conundrum: If we love our bodies we are vein and arrogant, yet if we are insecure we are told by friends to get more confident and appreciate how good we look. [Oh, hello cosmetic companies you must love us and our insecurities – but that’s my ramblings for another blog post!].

Confusing? Yes. But does it need to stay like this? No. I’m saying this needs to stop.

Another #Buoy13 Swim [a windy morning, Lake Windermere]

YOUR BODY IS AMAZING

It would be amazing if we could all form habits which focus on the amazing things our body is capable of rather than getting caught up with our insecurities… And if you can embrace your own individual body quirks, well then, that’s even better.

So, repeat this out loud (go for it!… I said LOUD!): “Our bodies are so amazing and beautiful and capable!”

Mariama, a close friend, said this after discussing the issue of body image and body insecurities, “Don’t get hung up with our body ‘quirks’. Instead, remember the adventures your bodies were the driving force behind: the walks and runs, the beautiful views and the epic adventures, the enduring sessions you may have put your body through and even just the daily processes that we take for granted.”

Our body is working non-stop, 24/7. I mean, that’s pretty incredible in itself.

New Years Day swim [Rydal Water, January 2018]

This post is dedicated to learning to love your body, quirks and all. Embrace your totally unique amazing body and go and get out there to experience the amazing world we live in. Loving your body for what it can do is not vain or arrogant. It’s accepting how truly incredible our bodies are, what they are capable of, where they can take us and what they can do. Lets celebrate our unique bodies. Lets give our bodies the credit they truly deserve. Let’s marvel at your body’s amazing-ness.

Join the #bodypositivity movement.

LMB x

(P.s. Thanks so much Sarah Gerrish, founder of this fantastic WWW community for letting me share my thoughts on this topic!)

Wonderful Wild Women [Gurnal Dubs, January 2018]

My Journey Up Kilimanjaro

04/11/2017 / no comments

My Journey Up Kilimanjaro

By Jess Sutherland

11:40pm, 10^th October 2017

its – 3 degrees C and I’m sat with a bowl of porridge in our mess tent at Kosovo Camp, 4800m above sea level. We’re about to start the 6 hour walk to the highest peak in Africa, Mt. Kilimanjaro. This was what we had been working towards for almost a week, just one last push to the top. At this point I had absolutely no idea that the next few hours would be without doubt the most physically & mentally demanding thing I would have done in my life so far.

Six days previous we started our walk from the entrance gate. We had chosen the Machame route, largely because it boasts the highest percentage of success rate to the summit. It takes seven days in total covering around 38 miles, providing you with a steady acclimatisation to help your body deal with the huge change in pressure as you ascend. Our trek started walking through dense forest which felt very jungle like, surrounded by lush green vegetation with monkeys swinging through the trees above us. The track itself started out as a steady incline turning into pretty steep stairs taking us just over five hours to our first camp.

When we arrived at Machame camp we were met by the self-proclaimed ‘A Team’ who would be supporting us on our climb, there were 28 guys stood in front of me, singing and dancing to welcome us to the camp which they had been busy assembling. After day of walking in the heat this well and truly put a smile on my face, however the fact that we were to be looked after over the next week by so many people left me feeling a little un-worthy. This was one of those lightbulb moments where it dawned on me that this trip was never just about hopefully getting to the top, it was about all the elements that would have an impact on my journey there, and most importantly the people I would share this with.

Day two’s target was Shira Camp, we set off at 7.30am and headed straight up a steep rocky track, the air felt so much thinner than yesterday but we were pleasantly distracted by the truly epic views and incredible blue sky. Now that we were coming out of the forest we could see just how far above the clouds we were, our summit was in sight.

Each day the terrain was different which kept us engaged with the trek, becoming less green and more arid as we got higher. Day three was an acclimatisation day where we walked up to Lava Tower at 4600m and then back down to Barranco Camp. After dinner which often consisted of a delicious soup followed by a hearty carb filled meal we were greeted by the most incredible sight of the Milky Way. Witnessing sights like this made me feel completely removed from all that was going on in the world and truly in awe of my surroundings.

From Barranco we headed to Karanga via the renowned Barranco Wall, a sort of African Jack’s Rake, this was one of my favourite days on the mountain as it was so much more hands on than the previous days. From Karanga our next stop would be Kosovo our base camp. As we walked we were completely exposed to the sun with no shade at all, the heat definitely took its toll on us but we made it to Kosovo Camp in high spirits in anticipation of our summit.

We slept through the afternoon, woke for dinner and then got a few more hours in before we were woken for porridge and toast before putting on our head torches and setting off for the summit. After we had been walking for about an hour, despite many thermal layers I became incredibly cold. My water had frozen solid so keeping hydrated was down to just a few sips of hot tea from a flask every hour or so. I’m not exaggerating when I say that it honestly took all of my effort to put one foot in front of another. I would take around 4 steps before I had to stop, take a few breaths and then repeat. I had my music on full blast to try and distract me from the thoughts going through my head which largely consisted of, is this pain worth it? After 5 hours we reached Stella Point, the ridge line which leads up to the summit. Standing here in the pitch black you could see Venus along with lights from countries which were 100’s of miles away. The sun then began to rise and an hour later we reached Uhuru Peak, the top of Mt Kilimanjaro. I’m not going to lie, I was in so much pain, I had an excruciating headache and I couldn’t really stop the tears flowing, I was so thankful for the support of the guides and porters who got us here and deep down I felt proud of myself and my team members, along side a great sense of relief that we had all made it.

The summit was quite hard to comprehend, due to it being the world’s tallest freestanding mountain you can see the curvature of the earth which is just mind blowing. I’ve never felt cold like the temperatures at the top, it was -10 plus windchill which took us to about -14 which was an experience in itself. I took a quick exit from the top as my headache was getting worse and our guide became concerned, wanting me to get back to base camp quickly. It took just two hours to get down, when I got there I was greeted with the best tasting glass of fruit juice I’ve ever had!

From then on it was all downhill. One the same day we walked 4 hours to Mweka camp for our final night in the tents, totalling just over 12 hours that day, before a final 4 hours the next day to the gate. To thank the A Team I wrote a letter which my good friend & support guide Raymond read to them all in Swahili, I wish I could have done more to thank them. I told them they would all firmly remain in my memory of the trip and that I couldn’t say ‘Ahsante’ (thank you) enough times. I spent all the time I could along the journey talking to them, finding out about their dreams and aspirations which I hope are fulfilled one day.

I told myself a few years ago I was going to say yes to more things, to try and feel more fulfilled with the life I am living & what I pack into it. I’m so grateful that I was able to do this trip, its certainly added fuel to the fire for adventure in me. Having lost a friend a few years ago who had a serious passion for adventure and living life to the full, its often said that events like this open your eyes to certain aspects of how you live your life and it certainly did for me. He could do a handstand anywhere, so I did my best at doing one for him. Where will the next one be?

How nature taught me about the right amount

24/09/2017 / no comments

How nature taught me about the right amount

By Alice Bellini

“Put away your shoes and come back to real life. You won’t pay any rent by walking”. Not a day goes by without me hearing these words. Usually, they are not as literal. But when you put life on hold to work a job for the majority of your day, in order to make those money that society decided are the most important thing in life, so you can buy stuff you won’t even remember you have but that will define your worth – well, you don’t need to hear them in such literal way.

I like to question stuff. When I was very little, my mum would call me Miss But. Everything had a but. Everything had to go through my personal lens and had to have a logic for me to say: “oh, sure, I agree”. School didn’t help. University even less. I would sit in my class or work at my papers and wonder: “Could it really be it? Can life be relegated to Saturdays and Sundays, as far as you don’t have an important deadline to meet or some fundamental social event to attend?”

Is this what we call real life? Is this the life that is worth our stress and our illnesses and our time and dreams?

They say there can be lots of definitions for the word “success”, or “glory”, or “happiness”. Well, there’s only one for the world “real” and it’s not the life we’re living.

And every single mountain proves me right.

Monte Terminillo is not the highest mountain of Italy, nor of the Apennine. It’s not even the highest of the Lazio Region for that matters. About 60 miles aways from Rome, it reaches the sky at 7270 feet. It’s not extreme, nor dangerous. There’s nothing particularly epic in this mountain and no adventure story is probably set here – except for this one, which is not an adventure story anyways. On the other hand, it’s not a little brow and it still requires your time and effort to be hiked and topped. It’s something in between – “no meet nor fish”, as we would say in Italian.

Yet, it’s so real. And as usual, the most meaningful things are the simplest ones.

My friend Veronica and I decided to explore this mountain on a quiet Friday morning of late spring. The weather forecasts were not the greatest, and maybe we knew it, but we were craving a hike and little did we care.

Wind was blowing strong under a limpid sky. The air smelled of melted snow and the grass on the slopes was waving like a green ocean, disclosing all sorts of shades.

Maybe because of the wind, maybe because it was Friday, maybe because of the low-extremeness-yet-good-effort requirement, on that day we were the only ones on the trail that leads first to the summit, then to Vetta Sassetelli (Sassetelli Peak), looping around this Monte. Starting from Rifugio Sebastiani, the itinerary is 5 miles long for an actual gain in height of 1300 ft.

While we walk in the wind to reach the first summit dressed like fluo ninjas, the usual and net feeling of leaving something behind at each step hits me – like every time I find myself in nature.

“What should I do with my life? Where am I going to find and extra job? Can I consider my career as a successful one? What should I say to that person? Am I ever going to reach social and economical stability? Am I good enough to live a worthy life? When am I going to have enough adult items that will define me as an adult and responsible woman? What’s going to happen tomorrow? What if something goes wrong? What do I want? Why am I not successful enough?”

Every step I take, one of these questions (and many others) fall behind. As if the fresh air is acting like a filter and I’m entering another dimension, the superfluous part of my life is not allowed to proceed on the trail, nor the one dictated by social conventions and illusions. If I want to reach the top and truly be there, I have to choose my load carefully and bring only the bare necessities with me. Only what is real.

Real like these rocks on the ground and this grass waving on the slopes. Real like this air entering and exiting my body, real like the clouds in the sky. Real like the horizon that I see before me. Real like the sun that shines high in the sky.

There’s no real life other than this.

As much as structured and rooted in our history from millenniums, there’s nothing real in a life made of things, adjectives and systems that make people feel inadequate, that throw shame on them because they are not *something* enough all the time. Work, beauty, family, spirituality, self, food, health, relations: everything falls into categories that must label and classify human beings to the very bit in order to recognize them and supply them with a dose of dignity – if they’re lucky.

And no matter how hard we try, there’s always something preventing us from living fully, from being truly in contact with ourselves and feel, ultimately, at peace.

Every step leading me to the summit leads me one step closer to nature and to a feeling of peacefulness that is not provided by a newly reached status quo, a successful exam or a rise of salary, but by an environment that is finally real and, most importantly, fair.

There is no “too much” or “too few”, no perfect-hence-impossible standard to meet in order to feel right and worthy. There is no illusion. No border, no social structures invented by men to control men, no cruelty and no fighting for predominance.

There is nature and collaboration and, finally, belonging. There is the right amount of everything, in all its beautiful balance.

Reaching the summit, I look around and I feel like I finally belong to this world. This is the feeling of summits: I’m in a place where there’s only man and nature and nothing to stand in the way.

No one is there yelling at me what I should be, what I should do, how I should look, how I should behave and what I should think. No one is there judging and labeling. No one is evaluating my skills in order to check if I’m *something* enough to climb one more step on the corporate ladder.

At the top of Monte Terminillo, like every other mountain, there’s life as it is in the moment we come to this Planet: human and real.

This hike is a peculiar one: the summit is the first thing you reach after just an hour of steep uphill walk. Then the rest of the trail unfolds.

Descending the long, incredibly panoramic crest to Vetta Sassetelli and then Sella dei Sassetelli, I don’t really want to end this hike and go back to the city. I picture myself planting a tent in a sheltered corner and living here like this.

I would feel safe and free, not because I don’t have to follow any rule, or because I’m far away from my responsibilities, but exactly because I would be following the only true rule of life and I would be fulfilling my only real duty of living a real life, a “life worth living”, like advertisements and magazines would sell it.

From Sella dei Sassetelli, the trail enters a whole new scenery: past the 360° views and crests, the majestic walls of Monte Terminillo oversee the trail, disclosing the power of this mountain. The typical blue-silver limestone of the area shines in the sun, a few tongues of snow still cover the ground and an expanse of beautiful furry flowers paints everything in light blue and purple. Silence permeates everything.

There is me, Veronica and the mountain. The trail, the flowers, the snow, the rock. The sun and the wind. The fresh air and our breaths. And I’m just not ready to leave this place and this moment. I can’t find the strength to go back to life as I don’t see it.

I stop. I look around. And spontaneously I sit down, in the middle of the track. A few meters ahead of me, Veronica turns and sees me. She probably isn’t ready either, ‘cause she sits down too, in the middle of the trail, without having to ask anything. When the reason is so natural, there’s no explanation needed.

In this moment, I don’t have to reach any special place, both physically or mentally, to be at peace. Actually, I don’t have to reach anything at all. I only have to be here, in nature, breathe in no particular way. And everything finds its right place, me included.

In nature, I can finally find my place in a Planet where human beings are not better or stronger or smarter, but part of the ecosystem, and happy to be so.

We spend our lives looking for a leader, a way, a method or a discipline that can show us the path to a better and happier existence. What if this leader is not a person, a guru, a saint or a discipline. What if this leader is a whole reality and what if that reality was there this whole time. What if that leader is nature?

Everything that surrounds me while I’m sitting here can teach me something incredibly simple, yet incredibly hard to find: respect and coexistence. Everything in this nature is in the present moment and embraces change in a way that no human being, saint, guru or discipline ever managed to.
We all come from nature, after all. And nature doesn’t need improvement.

What I see when I look at Earth is an infinite amount of coherent teachings. Nothing ever clashes. Everything has a space and leaves space. All those practices and inspirational people we turn to are great, but they all miss something. They are all practiced inside cities, and houses and artificial places, shutting all the rest of the Planet out. They are all practiced into a fictional world, with fictional rules and fictional purposes. The reason they help is that they allow us to connect with the most natural part of ourselves, however they are just part of the “big cheat” if still completely immersed in what makes us so scared and shieldy.

As part of this ecosystem, we can live a real life only if we live in close contact with nature. We could never feel inadequate, or ashamed of ourselves, or needy to numb our emotions if we are in the place where we belong. In nature, limits, imperfection and diversity become precious: we learn to embrace them and we eventually experience life fully. We’ll find we have everything we need.

There’s nothing true about conventions. There’s nothing reasonable in calling real a life made of things invented by mankind to become unbreakable and immortal. There’s nothing real about restrictions, purchases, money and glory. There’s nothing real about a life lived according to standards invented to keep people busy and distracted while a small amount of them gets powerful and rich beyond conception, making our Planet collapse. There’s nothing real about perfection, excellence, Wonder Women and Supermen.

We think mankind belongs there. We think we belong to cities and full-time jobs and money, TV programs and gossips. But really, all those things are just a superstructure, a wall – that keep us all in and well stuck.

We need to find our right amount too. We need to aspire and dream, that’s for sure, but we also need to appreciate and be. We need to explore, but also to protect and collaborate. We must push limits, but also find the peacefulness they bring and feel at ease within them. Admire the great landscape, as well as focus on the smallest detail, because that’s where we’ll truly understand the big picture.

To reintroduce nature in our lives is vital, but to reintroduce our lives into nature is even more fundamental.

We all need to go back home. And as far as we mistake it for something else, we’ll always feel lost. Indeed, “nature is not a place to visit. Nature is home”.

Veronica and I stand up and keep walking. As every other extremism, hermitage is not an answer for us. The preciousness of this place will come back to Rome with us.
That evening, we won’t stop praising the beauty of what we saw and we will feel a bit frustrated and sad when people will answer that it doesn’t fascinate them because it’s not adventurous enough.

That evening, I will look out the window of my kitchen and I will see Mount Terminillo in the very distance. It’s true, I won’t pay any rent by walking, but I do go back to real life every time I do.

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