Day 2: Not so easy

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Don’t let anyone tell you walking twenty miles per day, carrying over twenty percent of your own bodyweight is easy.

It’s the little niggles that started appearing through the day which slowed us down. It had rained overnight, but the weather held throughout the day, to the extent that I needed to reach for the suntan lotion.

Loch Lomond was beautiful, we saw Rob Roy’s Cave, Rob Roy’s Tree and Rob Roy’s Car Park. They like Rob Roy here. We also saw mountain goats.

We passed twelve people over the course of the day. Two of those people were what have sort of affectionately become known as ‘the two old men’. They were among the people we passed on day one, but had started out from the same campsite as us an hour or two earlier in the morning.

The two old guys told us that the next camp site was 10 km further down the West Highland Way. That was the longest 10 km I’ve ever walked. We eventually passed that campsite 10 miles later. We found a small but sheltered spot for wild camping, only to find a long and sleepless night awaited us.

Day 1: Ahead of schedule

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We woke up early and Heley went for a run. Final confirmation, if any were needed, that she is completely mental.

We had breakfast – a full Scottish breakfast for me, muesli and porridge for Heley – in what she described as the nices B&B she’s ever been in. I was happy with tea and bacon, so top marks for Allander B&B.

It had crept up to 9.30 by the time we departed, and off we wandered to the start of the West Highland Way.

We made good time in beautiful weather, passing a total 28 other walkers along the way. The only person who overtook us was a cyclist. Damn cyclists.

By 3.30 we had reached the end of day one. So onwards we soldiered on to day two of the walk.

The sun would have shined down on the bonnie bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond if not for the weather ahead threatening to unleash itself upon us. Thunder and lightning surround us, but the weather was kind and we snuck dryly through a gap and into luxury in the form of a real campsite – they even have sinks and drinking water.

An old man of the sea welcomed us into a pub, noting he’d never known a storm in August like the one we missed. We’d like to think we could trust him as he looked a little like the old Captain Birdseye, but alas, he was nearing the end of his pint and possibly in search of tourists to tell tales to in turn for a top up. Off we wandered after a quick drink and up went the tent.

So, the tent is up and tea is brewing. Sorry Boris; we evaded the rain. We are rapidly approaching it though, and, unless the weather clears overnight, I’m not convinced our luck will hold.

Still, it’s warm and I’m about to finish my tea. Let’s hope the weather continues to hold out.

Day 0

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So, we finally made it to the start. Here we are sat watching the Edinburgh Fringe from the luxury of our B&B. Tomorrow we walk out into the hills.

The journey up here was uneventful. We didn’t have to suffer any screaming children or people listening to music by playing it through the speaker on their mobile phones. In short, we have nothing to write home about.

It rained on us in Edinburgh, but is warm and dry here in Milngavie. We’re all stocked up, we know where tomorrow’s starting point is, all we have left to do is to start. We are fully prepared and we even know where our towels are.

Hopefully the weather will be kind and we’ll be able to report back on a regular basis.

Over and out,

Phill & Heley

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First Aid for the outdoors

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Broken JawLast weekend Heley and I had our very own first aid training. We managed to wrangle ourselves a private lesson with a retired first aid instructor. Apparently the St John’s iPhone app and re-runs of House do not count as first aid training.

We chose the lesson over a “First Aid at Work” course because the wilds provide their own distinct problems. Phone signal and conveniently placed hospitals are often a requirement when doing a first aid course. Heley and I won’t always have that luxury. There are parts of the route that for all intents and purposes may as well be marked “here be dragons”. Basically, we’re working on the principle that anything that can possibly go wrong will just so happen to go wrong at the worst possible moment. It’s not paranoia if the hills really are out to get you.

A lot of our questions were based around intense and terrifying emergencies, for example what to do when your shin is neatly aligned at ninety degrees to itself. We asked when to stop and whistle, when to make notes of GPS co-ordinates and go for help, and when to just flail around and panic.

There are other injuries to worry about though. Even minor day-to-day injuries need special attention during a 380 mile walk. A blister on the foot, a cut on the hand, a slight sprain or strain: each can pose a problem along the way. Improper management can easily lead to problems further down the line. Failing to complete the trip because one of us has gangrene would be a tad embarrassing.

The first aid course itself was entertaining. I was declared unofficially dead whilst Heley was putting me in the recovery position; apparently I wasn’t breathing loudly enough. I’m in serious trouble if I lose consciousness at any point during this journey.

On the other hand, Heley is likely to tie her own bandages in future. I had particular problems with the arm slings. It’s not just that my bandaging is untidy, it’s also ineffectual.

Heley feels the cold easily, so we learnt about the risk of her stealing my warmest clothes to prevent hypothermia. I go from white to bright red at only a hint of sun, so Heley may get the chance to pour cold water over my head. I just have to hope she doesn’t choose to hold my head under the water as she clearly has issues recognising whether someone is breathing.

Overall, we learnt a lot and laughed a little more. Hopefully we’ll get a chance to practise a few things before we set off. Even more hopefully we won’t have to use much of what we learnt. The departure date is rapidly approaching and once again we are a little more prepared.

In the gym with Boris: Why I’m supporting DC Academy

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DC Boxing Club LogoThis week we’ve invited Boris from DC Boxing to give us a few words from the gym floor. Boris may be relatively new to the club, but he is already proving to be a great asset to the club. His commitment and constant enthusiasm serve to remind us why we are putting ourselves through 380 miles of Scottish weather for DC Boxing, so without further ado…

My name is Boris and I’m one of the boxers at DC Academy. With 35 years I’m too old and probably not even talented enough for competitive boxing, nevertheless and though I only started four months ago, I feel very much at home and accepted in the club. There is a really strong sense of togetherness in the gym, probably because everyone feels equally pushed to the limit after a hard training session, regardless how different we may be outside the club.

The challenges are always changing. Right at my first night I thought the coach would be joking when towards the end of the session he asked for 12, then 11, then 10, etc… press-ups and I could hardly do 10. It’s still not my favourite, but now I can do it. And while I just started the training to complement my fitness programme as a runner, I soon realised there is so much more to boxing than hitting a bag. It’s the precise orchestration of technique, speed and power combined with an incredible need for stamina that makes boxing such a varied sport. I think this is where DC Academy has a great advantage: Ivan and the other coaches want to make sure that we understand how to put it all together and practice until it works; they make it clear that just sparring alone doesn’t cut the mustard if you want to be a good boxer.

Boxing and boxing training can teach you a lot, also about yourself. Your limits but also possibilities. In that respect it is probably no different to martial arts. Talent and physical ability aside, some key ingredients are discipline, dedication, and commitment. Hard work. Self-control. Sounds familiar? Of course. Good old values we should try to teach children. It always makes me happy when I arrive at the gym and the Juniors are still pounding the bags. They might not want to see it that way (hey, we’re talking about a bunch of teenagers), but this is where I feel DC Academy makes a difference at a time when the councils close down youth centres and other facilities. The club gives these youngsters something to do, provides them with an opportunity to identify and overcome their limits, to become confident. And I rather have that happening in a bout than bullying others in the streets.

Boris' Shed (Boris not included)

Boris' Shed (Boris not included)

The club’s current location is best described as a shed, and although that has its own charm to it, there is a lot of room for improvement. We’re not talking about luxury. We’re talking about necessities; a new ring, a few more bags, even gloves or skipping ropes. The membership fees are small to allow everyone to enter the club, and I think this is an important and positive difference to more exclusive venues. It is thanks to the great engagement of people like Phill and Heley that we can now plan ahead and save towards a new ring. I’m happy to do my bit, and I hope I could convince some of you to click on that yellow little ‘Donate’ button on the right and make a small contribution towards DC Academy.