Two years ago, I was suddenly, catastrophically ill, and when it appeared that I would live, I had to re-learn everything from breathing to walking.
When you’ve lost 60-70 per cent of your musculature walking is hard, and my first attempts looked like a drunken penguin and felt like I was made of custard.
Later, friends visited me at home and were shocked that walking across the kitchen left me breathless. But one colleague realised that it was a big achievement and said, ‘Look at you walking’: an encouraging response.
She visited again recently and got two flat tyres in a pothole on the way to my house. Have you ever known a year like it for potholes? I said that I would walk up to rescue her. So, I did: 2.6 miles uphill.
‘Look at you walking,’ she said again, and we both smiled.
Fortunately, a passing AA man (who by all accounts was helping everyone who had driven that way) got her on the road again. So, we decided to go for a walk at the local Arboretum for a few hours.
When it came time to part, I sent her a safer route back (like the three wise men) and walked home: a further two miles. By my guess, I walked 6.6 miles that day.
Now, for many of you, that’s not much. You’ll be doing regular dog walks or long-distance hikes at the weekend. But for me, 6.6 miles was progress. It showed that, though I could certainly be fitter, I’ve come a long way in the last two years.
There is always someone faster, fitter, younger or stronger, as the Winter Olympics shows us. Sometimes, however, we have to stop on the path and look at just how far we’ve come. Metaphorically and physically, walking is good for that.
Later in the week I retraced my steps just to look at the spectacular views that the hill affords. It isn’t much fun to walk though, as it is now a rat run for commuters, van drivers in a hurry and even lorries.
This is satnav madness as it’s a single-track road that winds through woods and fields.
I was leaping out of the way of cars, with some of the drivers glaring at me as if I shouldn’t be there.
What to do about it? My next steps (as we used to say in meetings) are to find out how to have a route taken off Google Maps. Imagine the joy of walking up the single-track lane without anticipating being run over by a delivery van? I’ll let you know how I get on.