Monday, December 15, 2008
Freezing!!!
I've had a relatively quite week following the Brecons Ultra; I was struggling to walk Monday and Tuesday cos the end of a couple of toes was very painful, soaking them in salty ice cold water helped, but I am thinking of going up a whole shoe size rather than a half.
Thursday I went to the gym, and did a fairly gentle 20 minute treadmill work out, alternating running and walking at 5% and 10% inclines, 15 tough minutes on the ellipticals, and the weights/ exercises on my plan.
Saturday I decided to go for a walk- I originally decided to do two short walks in my new, signed 'John Merrill's Short Walks in Notts' booklet, the first one a 7 miler from Colston Bassett. God- it was freezing- and it started to pour as soon as I left the house- that horrid icy rain that just numbs everything.
I set off over damp, muddy fields, getting completely wet feet after only 2 minutes, and then took the wrong bridge over the river. This meant walking a complete circuit round a huge field- it must have been at least a mile all the way round there. And, of course, when I found the right bridge, and track to Kinoulton, it was ankle deep mud all the way. Feeling quite demoralised, I came to a decision. I figured I'd have done 8 miles with the detour, but as the next part was easy walking along the canal, instead of turning off I'd carry on for another two miles, meaning I'd have done 12 in all, and could just go home rather than do another walk.
It was easy walking but so-o-o cold... my snickers bar was too cold to actually taste of anything, and I couldn't bring myself to take my gloves off to unwrap anything else- I really felt for those poor hardy souls doing the Round Rotherham- it was a nightmare by all accounts!
I got to the 2 mile stage at Cropwell Bishop, and turned to retrace my steps- against a very cold, penetrating wind... by the time I got back to the turn off point and followed the road, I was freezing. The route skirts Colston Bassett and passes the ruins of a church- I did detour to have a look inside, apparently it was in use until the late 1800's. There's something quite sad about a ruined church.
During the last part of the walk, my gloves were well damp as the rain had never really let up- I was so cold all I could think about was getting back to the car... it was such a releif to see it. I soon encountered a small problem... my hands were so cold, I had lost the use of them, and just couldn't apply enough pressure to release the buckles on my waist and chest ruck sack straps! I was struggling for ages, trying to manipulate the useless, frozen white lumps my hands had now become, alternatively swearing loudly and trying to warm them between my legs (not a good look!)
Eventually, after much cursing, I managed to undo the chest strap and loosen the waist strap enough to step out of it... I got in the car, and put the heater on full blast. Sufficiently thawed to drive (but still bloody frozen!) I got to the other side of the village and the petrol light came on...
... so I had to queue at the nearest petrol station and stand in the queue to pay, a miserable, shivering wreck. By the time I got near home, though, I decided that I was no longer suffering from hypothermia, and stopped at Morrisons to get supplies.
I guess the weather conditions were as much removed from the Sahara as possible!
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Thursday I went to the gym, and did a fairly gentle 20 minute treadmill work out, alternating running and walking at 5% and 10% inclines, 15 tough minutes on the ellipticals, and the weights/ exercises on my plan.
Saturday I decided to go for a walk- I originally decided to do two short walks in my new, signed 'John Merrill's Short Walks in Notts' booklet, the first one a 7 miler from Colston Bassett. God- it was freezing- and it started to pour as soon as I left the house- that horrid icy rain that just numbs everything.
I set off over damp, muddy fields, getting completely wet feet after only 2 minutes, and then took the wrong bridge over the river. This meant walking a complete circuit round a huge field- it must have been at least a mile all the way round there. And, of course, when I found the right bridge, and track to Kinoulton, it was ankle deep mud all the way. Feeling quite demoralised, I came to a decision. I figured I'd have done 8 miles with the detour, but as the next part was easy walking along the canal, instead of turning off I'd carry on for another two miles, meaning I'd have done 12 in all, and could just go home rather than do another walk.
It was easy walking but so-o-o cold... my snickers bar was too cold to actually taste of anything, and I couldn't bring myself to take my gloves off to unwrap anything else- I really felt for those poor hardy souls doing the Round Rotherham- it was a nightmare by all accounts!
I got to the 2 mile stage at Cropwell Bishop, and turned to retrace my steps- against a very cold, penetrating wind... by the time I got back to the turn off point and followed the road, I was freezing. The route skirts Colston Bassett and passes the ruins of a church- I did detour to have a look inside, apparently it was in use until the late 1800's. There's something quite sad about a ruined church.
During the last part of the walk, my gloves were well damp as the rain had never really let up- I was so cold all I could think about was getting back to the car... it was such a releif to see it. I soon encountered a small problem... my hands were so cold, I had lost the use of them, and just couldn't apply enough pressure to release the buckles on my waist and chest ruck sack straps! I was struggling for ages, trying to manipulate the useless, frozen white lumps my hands had now become, alternatively swearing loudly and trying to warm them between my legs (not a good look!)
Eventually, after much cursing, I managed to undo the chest strap and loosen the waist strap enough to step out of it... I got in the car, and put the heater on full blast. Sufficiently thawed to drive (but still bloody frozen!) I got to the other side of the village and the petrol light came on...
... so I had to queue at the nearest petrol station and stand in the queue to pay, a miserable, shivering wreck. By the time I got near home, though, I decided that I was no longer suffering from hypothermia, and stopped at Morrisons to get supplies.
I guess the weather conditions were as much removed from the Sahara as possible!
