Maybe Burpees don't like me either?

I was already awake when the alarm went off at 5am.  I had been awake a long time, concerned that the dizzyness would come back. The experience at BoxFit left me worried that I was not up for this early morning challenge: XFit. 

What is this XFit you speak of, I hear you ask? Well - it's really called Cross Fit but that wouldn't have fitted with the purpose of this blog, which is to finally cross off the letter X from my alphabet challenge. 

The workouts are designed to improve overall fitness and strength, using movements similar to those in every day life.  If you visit their website, you will find several references to the fact that everyone - from Olympian to Grandparent - benefits from the same exercises, just at different intensities. For the purpose of my life, I shall choose intensity level Great - Grandparent.

When I arrived at the Suffolk Food Hall (lovely place, great cakes), I could already hear the music banging from one of the outbuildings.  The heat we have come to expect over these last few days had not yet broken the gentle breeze, and the Orwell bridge looked abandoned in the early morning mist as I worked up the courage to enter.  I know that I'd struggle with any class, but a 6am crossfit class in a purpose built studio would be a different level to the early evening local community gym classes for £5.

Once inside I was met by the types of machines you might expect in a well equipped gym: Dumbells, kettlebells and weighted balls were stacked on shelves alongside massive weight plates. Machines for rowing, cycling, skiing as well as a rings were lined up neatly against the walls, just waiting for the fun to start. 

We all gathered around a white board which detailed the work out programme, and coach Jodie explained what the warm up would look like:

In pairs, we would share two exercises and alternate.  So for example, one would be using the rings whilst the other would run up and down the hall, and then swap. Everyone in this group of 10 seemed lovely, but I was particularly grateful to the two Ladies who took me under their wing.  They made sure that I was given the lightest dumbells, understood the settings on the machines and continuously reminded me to take it easy.

Warm up over, we stared the workout of the day:
4 stations, 2 exercises at each station,  3 minutes at each station.
We did the whole set twice, with an official break of 1 minute between them.  I insisted on being a rebel and making my own rules, having my breaks pretty much all the time.

Each station had one exercise with a clear target to be reached, and one that you'd do until the time was over.  For example, row 200m as fast as you can, and then do Burpees until the 3 minutes are over. Or spin until the machine indicates that you've burn 15 calories, then use the remainder of your 3 minutes on drop balls.

After my first set of Burpees, the lightheadedness I had been dreading came back with full force. The coach suggested that - seen as it has happened a few times now - I might need to get my blood pressure checked.  Having dizzyness take over for a couple of moments in itself isn't a problem - I know that I need to squat down, breathe and drink water and I'll soon be back to normal.  But I do find it very embarrassing, having to rest when everyone else had been working so much harder without a break. 

But even this session came to an end eventually, and after a a few minutes of thorough stretching it was time to wave goodbye.  Whilst we were sweating, the world had woken up, and the sun already made itself felt as I limped back to the car.

If you asked me how I feel about Cross Fit, I'd say:

- Make sure you bring a bottle of water or even a sweetened drink.  You'll sweat a lot.
- Wear comfortable clothes and good trainers.
- I did really enjoy the fact that I still have the entire day ahead of me after the work out - but here are classes on at all different times of the day if the early raising is not your thing.
- A lot of the exercises were designed to be done in pairs, so if you have a friend you could coerce into going with you, that might make your first experience a bit less painful. 
- Like with many other classes, I had to yet again be reminded that I should work at my own speed, and pace myself if I want to last the duration.  I often find myself going full throttle on a first set, only to have to sit out the third to recover.

...and they still smiled...

Putting the badass back into badassminton

One of the barriers I have been coming up against when trying out new sports, particularly team sports, is that I am extremely self conscious about the fact that I will be holding the team back and stop them from making the most of their training.  Not many people would enjoy the feeling of being the one who - literally and consistently - drops the ball, with skilled sports people looking on in despair.

So I completely understand the clubs who have responded with kindness and being so supportive of my endeavours, but ultimately explained that they could "only" offer the opportunity to watch from the sidelines. I appreciated that a longstanding team that dedicates hours to become the best they can be  will struggle to make time to watch me trip over my own feet. (Even though, it is hi-LA-rious.) 

When Max invited me to play badminton doubles at the local community gym, I thought that would be an ideal opportunity to get to learn a little bit about the game, without having to inconvenience accomplished players.  I have a slight suspicion that Max realised at some point just how much of "not a clue" I had about the game. Because he decided that I'd need a "lesson of the basics" first. 

This makes complete sense: Being the only not knowing what's going on in any group is uncomfortable for you, and slows down the game for others.  So spending some time to get a grip of the basic rules, techniques and vocabulary seemed sensible. 

And so I found myself one sweltering Friday afternoon in an old school gym (memories of Karate came flooding back - I think soon every gym and community hall in Ipswich will bring me flash backs of sore legs).  I thought we'd have a bit of a whack about for fun, didn't really see it as part of my sporty challenge. Hence the lack of photos.

What I did not expect was that we would spend a good few minutes looking at how to hold the bat properly.  Once I've mastered to keep an appropriate gap between my index finger and the handle, we moved on to practice backhand and forehand movements, how to angle the bat and how to use your other arm as a guide. 

The next step was to learn about the pitch, the meaning of the white lines on the ground and some of the basic rules. 

Just when I thought there was nothing more to learn and thus itching to have a "proper match", Max pulled out a pack of 10 feather shuttlecocks. That's right:  time to practice the serve.  "Easy", I thought, "just hit it over the net". Wrong again. Patiently Max explained that the racket should stay below the waist, angled downwards, the shuttlecock should be held in an extended arm at the angle that will allow it to just clear the net marginally.... 

After an hour and half, and an actual game that I lost at something like 21 - 2,  I really felt like I'd had a good work out, learnt a lot, but most of all had a great time. Despite Max managing to stand still and quite comfortably hitting every shot, whilst I ran around like a crazy old Lady in an egg-and-spoon race with my extended racket...I will practice, get good, and demand a rematch. I. Will. Get. You. Back. Just you wait.

I feel I can't really write my pearls of "why it would be fabulous if you took up Badminton" wisdom, because it wasn't a fully organised-and-paid- for session.  But I learnt quite a few bits that I thought worth looking back on in a few weeks when I'm a whimpering "I just can't do it" mess:

1.  "Sports" doesn't have to mean hours of a heavy knot in the pit of your stomach because you're dreading it - find the people and places that make you comfortable enough to be bad at stuff, laugh about it and try again. Maybe that's an exercise class with a back row and without mirrors.  Maybe that's a team sport surrounded by your friends.  Or maybe that's just hanging out with friends for a laugh - as long as you're moving, you're improving. (I came up with that one myself.)

2. "I'm not the type of person who..." has been a mantra all my life.  Not the type of person who is good at maths, who wears lipstick, who can pull off wearing white, who can do sports.  As if we were born either good or bad at stuff.  And this mindset has held me back from trying new things, and still comes to the fore on a regular basis.  I'm not the kind of person who is good at badminton  - because I've not practised.  Because I've not invested the time in hitting shuttlecock after shuttlecock after shuttlecock over the net to get a feel for the best angle.  I'm not saying everyone can achieve everything, but I do believe (when sitting comfortably on my sofa) that one is not "bad at stuff beyond hope" from the outset. By the same token, this attitude takes away from the people who are truly great at stuff.  It implies that hey were just born with that skill, omitting the hours, tears and sweat invested to get to where they are.

3.  Understanding gives you confidence.  I'm so glad Max took the time to talk me through the rules and got me to practice clears, smashes and drops. If I had just turned up to a full blown game, I would have found it quite intimidating. It must have been one of the most boring afternoons for Max, just feeding me shuttlecocks and repeating clever words about angles and power, but it has helped me a lot. I'm no super-badminter after this, but I can go along to a game or book a court with a friend and not feel entirely useless.


Fun Fact at the end:  Badminton is (apparently) a more intense sport than tennis.  I'm well on my way to becoming a sportier version of Roger Federer.  

Punching harder

Occasionally I get asked how I decide which sport to try next.  Usually it's fairly straight forward - there are things like Kickboxing that I had always wanted to try.  Other times, friends who already do a sport invite me along to their club, as was the case with for example Karate and Zumba.

Today's sporty adventure however came along for altogether more - shall we say - ingenious reasons.

This was the conversation with my best Husband yesterday night*:
M: Seen as our plans for tomorrow have just been cancelled, does this mean we can make new plans?  
A: Yes! I was just thinking that maybe we could go Shop...
M: Err, I was thinking we could paint the spare room that you keep going on about?
A: Tomorrow?
M:  Yes.
A: Ah, you see, tomorrow I can't. 
M: What?  Why? 
A: I'm busy. 
M: Busy doing what?
A: Errrr, hummm, SPORTS!
M: Which sports?
A: (Come on, council gym website, load already....) Pilates!
M: You've already tried Pilates.
A:  Just checking that you're keeping up to date with the blog. Tomorrow I'll be trying out.. err. (scroll, scroll...)..Mummy Yoga.
M: Anna, you are not trying out Mummy Yoga. It's for mothers.
A: Ahahahahah, hahahaah, how funny, my Swiss accent made it sound like I said "mummy yoga" Hahaaha (scroll, scroll, scroll, waiting to load...), no, what I said was tomorrow I'll be doing Box Fit. 
M:  What does that involve?
A:  I don't know, but I hear it's veeeeeery hard work.  You can't use your arms for DAYS!**

And so poor Anneka fund herself dragged yet again along to a class - I say "dragged along", she actually likes sports and has done this class before, so this bit I've invented purely for added dramatic effect. 

Up to this point, I thought the class would involve punching things.  And it does, but a cold shudder run down my spine when Anneka said "... and then when you do the running between repetitions...".  Everything after that was a bit of a blur. I didn't know there would be running.

The class is designed similarly to a HIIT work out:  
- You work in pairs
- There is always one partner punching and one partner holding the pads
- There are 4 sets of different punches
- You do each set of punches for 4 rounds of 30 seconds each
- After each round of punches, you have a 20 second cardio blast (running, jumping jacks....)
- After each cardio blast, you've earned your 10 seconds rest.  Note:  10 seconds is not enough to take your gloves off, open your bottle, gulp, close bottle, gloves back on.  So you can either not drink, or use it is a clever ploy to reduce your 30s punching time... I'm not judging no-one.

So I'd like to tell you at this point that I performed fantastically well in this class.  However, that would be another lie.  Unfortunately about half way through the class, I felt myself covered in cold sweat, unable to catch my breath and light headed.  I had to sit out a few rounds and (yet again for added dramatic effect), a large fan was brought in. 

I had this happen before when exercising, and whilst I don't know what brings it on, I know it usually passes very quickly if I stop, calm my breathing down, and have some water.  Luckily, this was the case here and was able to join in again.  I didn't want to deprive Anneka of practising her strong defence.

However, because of my outstanding effort, I'd say I definitely still scored in the top 5 members of the class. 

Would Box fit be a good way of getting back your punch?
1. I'm all for efficient work-outs, and so far I've enjoyed all the HIIT based classes.  It's really hard work whilst you're there, but you can clearly feel that you've worked afterwards and that gives you the endorphin boost that will keep you going. 

2. It's a good mix of strength and cardio, so you get a bit of both.

3.  It is good fun to punch someone, especially if you have someone like Anneka to aim at. 

4.  I also felt it worked my sense of coordination, as sometimes we were changing the types of punches within a set - at one point I seriously got confused between my left and right, and several times I'm sure I've lifted the wrong leg.

5.  the group we joined was very small, as it was a Monday morning, which felt like harder work because you can't hide.  The upside was that we got very personalised support from the coach.  I guess that just depends on the class available near you.

6. As you can see, normal gym wear and trainers are perfect - and definitely do remember your bottle of water!

*This conversation may have been slightly different in reality.  If I recall correctly, it went like this:
A:  I might try Box Fit tomorrow.
M: OK.

** This bit is probably actually true.  It's intense on the arms.

Anyway, apparently there is a wall waiting to be stripped....

Getting my vitamin Sea

It's been nine days since we've finished the walk.  Nine days during which I forced myself to eat as much chocolate as possible to regain my strength. (It's been an effort, especially as it's had to be mainly Swiss chocolate.).  Nine days during which I used the list of "sports yet to do" for my unsporty alphabet challenge as a convenient place-mat for the remote control. Nine mornings of setting early alarms for planned runs, only to have more hours during which to tidy the readily laid out running gear out of the way again.

Paradise.

But I feel that my body has been usurped by some kind of crazy physically active being, which kept telling me that I felt like doing something.  Utter craziness.

And so I found myself looking at emails from different groups that I had contacted to ask if I could join in, and found a reply from an open water swimming group. "Check out our Facebook page for details." If it involves Facebook, I don't need asking twice - and found that Jonathan is closely involved with the group. 

A few reassuring emails later (from Johnathan to me, mine were more like "AHHHH, I'll DIIIEEE!.") we agreed to meet at beach hut 207 at around 10am.

As we arrived, a small number of wet suit clad swimmers were standing around chatting, pointing at the sea discussing wind- and tide direction. More and more people of all ages, abilities and levels of covered-up-ness arrived. If you've read my blog on aquaaerobics you'll know my feelings about being in public in a swim suit, but I felt entirely comfortable among this group.  Everyone was there because they wanted to be, and no-one had any interest in what I look like. Everyone was welcoming and welcome.

Johnathan talked me through some basic information on how to best avoid hitting the rocks and how to recognise the first signs of hypothermia, whilst I picked up from the chatter around us that a number of people had come directly from the Parkrun. I'm still gobsmacked that people are willing to move more than once a week, but twice in one day... and some of them were talking of cycling home afterwards.  It's like a new universe!

A big shout out to my best husband, for coming along, watching my stuff, having a warm towel ready at the end and for being made impromptu photographer for all picture requirements.

Once everyone was wearing their brightly coloured swimming hats for safety reasons, we were off into the water - some had announced that they had a busy day ahead and would only do the 2 mile round swim, others were weary of the choppy waves and encouraged me to come along for a quick "bob in the water."  Everyone was free to do as much or as little as they wanted / felt comfortable with.  

Whilst I did feel fairly cold (my standard setting for all life situations) standing at the beach, I still felt that - overall - the sea looked very pleasant with its jolly waves splashing joyously against the sand. I reassured myself that I  could probably swim an OK distance within an acceptable time frame.  

You can hear the "however", can't you.  Once I was in the water I realised that the "fun" waves are actually probably tools of mental torture. For every hard earned stroke, they pushed me back two steps.  I don't know how long I was actually in the water, but I do know that I did not move.  I guess I can be proud of the fact that I managed to stay in place rather than being dragged backwards, although it was later suggested that I could have just swam "with the wind" rather than against it.  There's always next time. The same "next time" where I will wear goggles to avoid swimming with a backwards-bent neck like a toffee-nosed crane.

Luckily, Johnathan kept me company, and whilst I didn't achieve very much today, I had a lovely chat and thus swallowed about a gallon of salty water. Once I felt my arms getting tired I started making my way back to the beach, accompanied by two other members. "See", I thought to myself "you're not so bad.  These guys are already done in, too, and they have been coming here for months." It was only when they brought me back to the beach safely and then headed out for their actual swim that I realised that looking after me had been their warm up. 

Back on firm ground, I realised just how cold I had been - the shaking only stopped once Matthew treated me to a sweet coffee, a restaurant lunch and a new (Charity Shop) dress.  

So, was it worth it?

1. Absolutely - but if you join a group, check out what their requirements and standards are.  If you cannot swim at all, I would suggest lessons first. I am confident with breast stroke, but not so much with crawl, and whilst this group would be the perfect place to improve my skills, I think I need to learn the basics separately.

2. With this particular group it was a requirement to wear a bright swimming hat so that you can be seen in case of an emergency.  Goggles, wetsuits and floats were optional, but retrospectively they do seem to be a good idea.  Some people had floats with waterproof bag compartments to carry phones, keys etc. I also wore sea shoes, knowing that my delicate princess feet don't like the pebbles.

3. I do generally enjoy swimming in a pool, but I don't like the faff around it (the getting changed etc.) What really frustrates me however is the lane swimming. I used to go regularly, but found that the slow lane (where I very clearly belong) was regularly hijacked by groups wanting to discuss the latest BBC Radio 4 Drama 4 people wide (and ideally practising their tutting if I tried to overtake).  It wasn't too bad if they stood completely still as I could swim around them - it became a bit more tricky when they were doing the "pretend you are swimming with your arms whilst you are actually walking very slowly with your feet" dance.  I'm not complaining about people being slow or trying their best to improve - it's what I am all about.  But it left me without options, as I couldn't move in the slow lane, but equally knew that I definitely do not belong in the fast lane. Swimming in the sea has allowed me to swim exactly at my speed, and even though there were a large number of people, there was space to move in the direction and style and pace that I wanted to.

4.  If you have read my blog before you know that I am sometimes reluctant to join with something in fear of holding other people back.  Whilst Johnathan kindly stayed with me during my on-the-spot struggles, it was very clear that everyone does what they want - there is not a team aim or a team goal or a team approach. There is safety in numbers, and people look out for each other but everyone does their own thing. 

5.  I really enjoyed the sense of community - I felt very warmly welcomed as a newby, but it was also clear that many people knew each other well. Equally I found that the more experienced swimmers were more than happy to give advise and support, so whilst I didn't have a lesson as such I still felt I learnt a lot.

6. More than with any other sport so far I felt that my "achievements" are outside of my control.  So on a windy rough day you can work super hard and not move at all (that's my excuse, anyway), whilst on a still day or when supported by the current you might achieve great distances. To someone like me, this is great news: I cannot measure myself, I cannot fail, because distance and time are influenced by so many other factors. Basically, what I'm saying is that I would be a great swimmer if it wasn't for all that water. 

So, go on, jump in!

Always start with the first step...

I've written in detail about our hike along the Panoramaweg Thun on the links below if you'd like to find out more about the "fun adventure", but this post will focus on the practicalities if you are planning to go on a longer walk for the first time.

Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4

The steps to take when preparing for a walk:

1. Do your research:  I'm all for Bear Grylls walking off into the sunset and killing Lions with his bare hands.  But if this is your first attempt at walking a distance further than car park - office, perhaps follow a planned route.  The one we chose was clearly labelled throughout, marked on the local map and we were able to find information online to help us prepare.

Where there were several options, the path was labelled with the green "route 26" sticker - where there was a small risk of turning the wrong way, yellow diamond stickers showed the way from lamp posts, trees and walls.

 










2. Prepare.  I know that I wouldn't have if I hadn't been coerced with chocolates and holidays in Switzerland, and retrospectively I know how much I would have regretted it.  I've spoken to numerous people who commented on their experience of a hike, and how they suffered either during or afterwards because they were not prepared.  It wasn't easy to prepare for an alpine walk in Suffolk, and so we researched which exercises would help strengthen the muscles we would need (calf raises, walking on a treadmill with incline, running up stairs etc.)  If you have read my blog in the past you will be familiar with my feelings on squats.  I have never been more wrong and I take it all back - I may not have enjoyed walking uphill but I didn't feel a thing the next day.

3. Go with what you know.  A few months ago I read that the ideal walking trousers were those where you could "zip off" the trouser legs converting them into shorts within a minute. Luckily I wore them during a practice walk to find out that the zip irritated my legs, leaving angry red marks.  We've since parted company.  My sister, who is a serious trekker, told of many a hike that had to be seriously slowed down because people had bought new shoes.  "But I've worn them in indoors." That's not enough to really get used to them.  You want a pair of shoes that you know well, that you've worn "in action".

4. Listen to the experts. Apologies for bringing her in again, but my sister seriously damaged her tendons on a hike from Switzerland to Italy in high sided, thick soled, expensive hiking shoes. They weren't bad shoes - but they had been designed for serious mountaineering, clambering over rocks, where ankles need additional support. There are things were buying online makes perfect sense - but if you're no expert and not sure what to chose, do go to a shop with reliable sales staff when it comes to shoes.

5.  Forget about your sense of fashion.  We were recommended to avoid buying waterproof jackets and get ponchos instead.  They are the least cool thing in the world ever.  but they are quick to put on in sudden down pours, the cover not only your body but also your bag, they allow air to still circulate to avoid creating a sweaty microclimate and they tend to be longer, covering at least parts of your legs also.  Now, if you wear shorts, you may be able to get to your destination almost dry...

6. Pack what you need.  Do your research, there are suggested packing lists for example from DofE, certain outdoor equipment shops, the scouts... Consider the fabric of your clothing - is it quick drying?  If so, can you wash your shirt / pants / socks overnight? 

7. Stay hydrated.  I've learn that this doesn't necessarily mean just water.  When you sweat a lot, your body also loses salts and minerals.  Some people may prefer to buy specific sports drinks, we managed with iced tea and chicken stock.  

8. Know what you want to achieve and why it is worth it. I really struggled with the idea of walking but I love how beautiful my home town looks from above.  I also knew that I'd be writing about the experience, which was a real driving force for me. If the going gets tough, keep your eye on the price. Why did you want to do it in the first place?  Let that reason push you on.

9.  Smell the roses.  One of my biggest barriers to enjoy walking is that it is just SOOOO inefficient.  My brain loves working out the quickest way of getting something done to move onto the next thing.  It's been a real challenge to remember that my destination was the walk itself.  There was no urgent thing to be done as soon as we arrived.  Our overnight stays were booked so that I couldn't speed along any quicker even if I wanted to.  There was nothing to do than to walk and to look.  Sometimes I forgot the looking, but when I remembered, it was always worth while.

10.  Reward your achievement.  It may just be allowing yourself to be proud of what you've achieved, especially if You thought it would be beyond you.  In my case, I went for a swim in the alpine view pool...

Taking a hike: Day 4

After a sweltering Day 1, a stormy Day 2 and a wet Day 3 the final part of the journey had finally arrived.  The sun was shining, our clothes were mostly dry and we were looking forward to dinner with my sister and her husband at their house back at base.

The view from our hotel was stunning, and we were feeling upbeat and ready to get this done!

The first part of our walk lead us along the fairly flat lake shore, through cool woods and alongside beautiful houses.  We walked past Spiez Castle and up through the vineyards and everything was just beautiful and I was elated that we had seen it through to that day.

Unfortunately, the wet walk from the day before had left its marks:  I was struggling with sickness and a headache, and both my little toes were growing blisters were once there had been toenails.  But I would say out of the entire journey, this was the day where I was most able to enjoy the beauty of the surroundings, and not worry about whether I'd be able to do it.  I guess I knew that there was now no alternative to finishing it all.

And finish we did:
72km / 45 miles
4 days
3 blisters
2 toenails
A total of over 2000m elevation gain and uncountable horsefly bites later, we arrived.

I guess "I can't" no longer counts...

We were going to replicate the starting picture of day 1, but that would have involved at least 20 unnecessary steps

Taking a hike: Day 3

After a long Day 1 and a thundery Day 2, we were glad to see that the skies looked dry during breakfast. We even made it to a supermarket to buy lunch relatively dry, and thought we could manage the light drizzle with our hats.

Before we even made it back to the official path, we were drenched, back in our ponchos, and only grateful that the rain was keeping the horseflies at bay. 

Still within Interlaken we came across the first set of trees across the way, our shoes were squelching and the day only showed shades of grey. There was no point carrying on. 

We stopped under a bridge in the hope that the worst would pass, and calculated how far the nearest train station or boat dock was to help us on our way.  I was surprised to find that I was not happy with the idea of giving up.  I would have thought that I would jump at Matthew's suggestion to use public transport to get us to the next stop, but some surprising sense of wanting to do this insisted that we do not turn back. Who knew? 

We agreed on a compromise:  The official path would have lead up onto an Alp known for stunning views across the lake.  But seen as the paths were treacherous and only likely to get worse, and considering that the thick blanket of gloomy clouds would negate any chance of enjoying a view, we decided to change our route slightly, so that it would lead through the villages along the lake shore.  This way, should it get worse we could resort to catching a bus or a boat.  We would also be able to find shelter and coffee if necessary.  

Drying out over apple pie whilst discussing if the boat would be an option

It wasn't all bad:  The weather was much cooler which made it more pleasant. We didn't see a single soul because sensible people had stayed in.  But we saw a number of animals and insects for whom the previous days had simply been too hot.  My personal highlight were the two deer who were enjoying their grazing too much to run away.  The picture doesn't do them justice - they were stunning.

There were times where I seriously had to question how Matthew and I could be so very different and yet get along so well:  In high spirits because I could finally see the Hotel, desperate to get into a hot shower and dry clothes ready for a meal with my brother and his fiancée and delighted that it had finally stopped raining, I turned only to find that my husband had disappeared. 

He got sidetracked by a bug.

I had a similar expression of pure joy when we were shown into our room for the night:  FREE DRY SLIPPERS!

And whilst we never doubted it, my brother's wife-to-be proofed yet again that she is an absolute super star by bringing newspaper... there was now at least the faintest glimmer of hope for dry shoes in the morning.

Luckily, Day 4 looked much sunnier.

Taking a hike: Day 2

After a tiring Day 1 and a sweltering night, we enjoyed a most fantastic breakfast in the beautiful village of Sigriswil (where my sister got married, at 810m above Sea-level) and prepared to set off again.

This day I was in exceptionally high spirits - according to the map, the day would consist of walking downhill, through more beautiful scenery. Our path would lead along a stunning natural pool along the lake where surely we would be able to refresh ourselves before arriving in the buzzing town of Interlaken. 

Well, the map was wrong.  Where we expected a gradual downward slope, we encountered more up and down - surprisingly, even though I didn't enjoy it, I found that my muscles didn't ache and my feet were coping just fine. Thank you, squats, apologies for the bad press I gave you.  I now love you.

We did eventually get back down to sea level and enjoyed the gentle breeze that had picked up late afternoon.  Turning to look back over the lake, I saw the most stunning display of colours - the turquoise of the lake, the green of the nature reserve surrounding us, the dark navy of the clouds... I thought Matthew was responding to my request for the camera when he started to undo his backpack, only to find him shoving a black "bin bag" poncho towards me. We managed to pull them over our heads just before the first fat rain drops splattered across our heads.  

The cooling rain felt amazing, and I had to laugh at myself for putting in the effort of doing something with my hair that day. But the rain become more intense, the thunder louder and lightning seemed to be striking left and right.  Within minutes a guy with a chain saw appeared to start clearing away the trees that wouldn't survive the battering.  In the meantime we had found ourselves a little wooden hut from where we could observe the fast flowing river carrying branches and roots.

After a while the dense of adventure made way to cold feet and dreaded knowledge that we were still far away form the hostel we had booked for the night.  As soon as it was save we crossed the metal bridge and made our way... or at least a way.  Our watered down brains forgot that our hostel was some way off the path that we had been blindly following...

... arriving at the hostel dripping and freezing, I could have hugged the guy at the reception who suggested Take-Away Pizza to avoid going back out into the rain.  And who quietly slipped us the code to the ski shoe room, so that our shoes could dry over night. (And who handed us a free voucher for the outdoor pool... irony?)

Here's to hoping for a sunnier Day 3.

Taking a hike: Day 1

It is done!  The dreaded four-day walk around a Swiss Alpine Lake has been conquered! In ya' face, steep inclines!

When my husband suggested a few moths ago that we should hike the Panorama Weg around Lake Thun, I nodded absent-mindedly.  He would either forget, or remember who I am and thus understand that this would never happen.

Unfortunately, I miscalculated just how determined he was, and over the past weeks have found myself on numerous training walks and reading up on how to prevent blisters. We sacrificed our spring holiday to climb Ingleborough Mountain in Yorkshire and I spent a lot of time crying or nearly crying or at least thinking about crying.  I absolutely dreaded it for a number of reasons, one of them being that I simply did not feel fit enough to even consider walking for four days.  This fear inspired - at least in part - the alphabet of sports journey.

Despite doing all I could to prevent it (including getting a migraine the night before), the day arrived, the bags were packed and the laces tied.

Ready to set off, Thun train station in the background

I tried to summarise day 1 without writing war & peace, but I've failed, so I've resorted to another skill I do not have: Art.

This is what I thought it would be like.  I mean, I did expect it to be hard...

What I did not expect was that the Swiss were sensible to close off paths that had been affected by a recent bout of powerful thunderstorms and therefore potentially dangerous.  

I forgot to draw the horseflies.... they were all there... they were all hungry.

Following one of the detours back into the valley we found what we thought was a sort cut - a set of steps that looked to bring us back onto the right height to continue on the path.  I stopped counting at 300, but Matthew is confident that there were 430.  My guess is closer to 764.

This first detour was not ideal, but I thought it would make it all a bit more of an adventure.  When we came across the second closed path, I did feel quite differently - I desperately scoured the map for alternative paths that would prevent us from having to go back into the valley from where we would have to climb again.  We were confident we had found one - only to found ourselves limping across a field and scrambling up the edge of a stream to try and find an actual path.  Map reading... another skill to be learnt.

During the second unplanned ascent I recall thinking that I was quite impressed with myself.  Up to that point I had found it hard and felt my heart sink, but even after finding the path closed twice I didn't consider turning around.  Mentally I patted my own shoulder and felt we were now on the final straight. Nothing could go wrong now...

Having finally rejoined the official path, I learnt differently:  A number of trees had been blown over by the storms, obstructing the path.  At this point, I told Matthew that there was no point, we could't go on and had to turn around. Ignoring me, he marched on, climbing over trunks, branches and through leafy crowns.  He was still carrying water and Banana chips - what can a girl do other than follow?

It turned out to be the right choice. Scratched and bleeding from a cut on my leg we arrived at yet another high plateau - the final one of the day. 

The last thing left to do was to cross the Panorama bridge - something I had been quite excited about.  However, looking down into the 182m rough and wild gorge, my heart did stop for a little second.  Only long enough to remember that the alternative would be an additional climb of 45 minutes.

Arriving on the other side, I was greeted by a smiling attendant with the words "Your first time crossing?" "Yes?" "I can always tell - people desperately hang on to the handrail the first time they cross.  After a while they realise that - if it all were to collapse - the handrail would go with them".

Shortly after we arrived at the hotel, only to find that their restaurant was closed - time for bed!

And then: Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, A summary on walking

We took about a million pictures of the stunning views - we won't bore you.

OK, we'll bore you a little.  But that's it.