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Why does Midlife have to be a crisis? 'Even with perimenopausal and menopausal symptoms being discussed with increasing openness in recent years, some women may not recognise symptoms such as anxiety, low mood, problems with memory or concentration as being menopause-related, especially if they experience them in the earlier stages of the 40-65 age range. My own symptoms started when I was 43 and after several years struggling to manage my mental and physical health, I finally realised I was perimenopausal, and I set out to manage menopause and midlife… My way.' For my article on midlife, menopause and walking, please click the link below which will take you to the QVC Menopause stories, where you can also find a number of helpful articles on navigating menopause. Tizzie Frankish asks 'why does midlife have to be a crisis?' | Stories (qvcuk.com) If you have your own walking story, please share it with me and it may be featured in the Women Walking section.

We made it... all 113kms of it. From Ferrol to Santiago de Compostella, Ways were walked, friendships formed and a whole lot of laughs were had... and not a single blister between us. What a way... what a walk! I've taken some time out since completing the Camino Ingles as there was so much to process and reflect upon. The Camino doesn't give you what you want, it gives you what you need and it stays with you long after the walk is finished. I feel almost ready to share my ramblings on this ramble and will post the various stages in separate posts soon. Until then... A photo of La Seis Camino at the finish point- The Santiago de Compostella Archcathedral Basilcia (the reputed burial lace of St James the Great.

How do you walk 40 miles in three days- focus on the first step. Over the last few weeks, my walking training has amounted to whatever I can fit in around....well, LIFE. It's mainly consisted of speed walks to and from work, an evening stomp around the city streets, leisurely lunchtime strolls, and any weekend walk I can bribe the boys to join me on. I've walked one double figure walk with three of 'Las Seis Camngas!' but our what's app feed is full of long walks and the clocking up of miles... which is blummin' brilliant- only none of those miles are mine. So, it comes as no surprise that I'm feeling less than confident about tackling 120kms in six days, which essentially means a double figure walk a day for six days... Eeeek! So, when my lovely friend Lou's parents were going on holiday and said we could bunk up in their gorgeous home in Portland for a few days, my Camino-buddy, Jane and I felt it was the perfect opportunity to walk double figures on three consecutive days. Although, once we'd arrived and eaten our body weight in cheese and biscuits, I could have quite happily admired the view and chilled in the back garden... and whist that would have been wonderful for my soul, my soles needed to find their groove too. So, at 8am the following morning we set off, with bellies full of brie, onto the South West coastal path and the steep hike was not for the weak of knees or tums full of cheese, but the view got better and better as we climbed so upwards we went. And once at the top, it really did feel like we were on the top of the world... what a view! The Isle of Portland is four miles wide by a mile-and-a-half wide at its broadest point and the Portland loop of the South West Coast Path, circles around the island at approximately 10 miles, and we had planned a route that would total 14 miles. Having spent many a camping holiday on the Dorset coast, I thought I knew the local landscape, but Portland was very different to areas of the Jurassic coast I had previously visited. With its rocky coastline, its breathtakingly rugged beauty, was enveloped with a low-lying mist which created a dystopian feel. Nevermind, top of the world... at 8am on Bank Holiday Monday if felt more like the end of the world- and I write that with a heart full of fondness. It was stunning! We were in awe as we ambled through Tout Quarry and the stone sculpture park, surrounded by Portland stone and searching for carvings in the rocks. We were spellbound as we climbed steep crags, with boots covered in clag (not easy, let me tell you!) and made it to 'The Bill' for breakfast. In the shadows of the red and white striped Portland Bill Lighthouse, that well earnt banana and nuts tasted sublime. Onwards we walked roadside past coastal forts and woodlands, glimpsing turquoise slithers of the sea and the white pebble beaches, which were smuggler hotspots back in the day. We saw 14th Century 'pirate' gravestones and walked so many steps that I swear I heard my knees scream. The route was quiet and we chatted to a few other walkers and watched in awe as people bouldered and rock-climbed- (definitely not for the feint hearted!) and we marveled at the brutalist-architecture of Verne Prison and the family friendly Fancy's Farm- a previously owned MOD buildings. We descended from a-top the island down a steep incline called Merchants Incline, previously a gravity-operated railway, with beautiful views of the Harbour and Chesil Bank and apparently Weymouth in the distance (we couldn't see through the mist!). Reveling, in our fortuitous decision to walk anti-clockwise, so that we walked down the incline instead of up. Then for some reason unknown to novice walkers, we decided to walk two miles back to Fortunestown along the brow of Chesil Beach and for those of you who are aware of how hard it is walking on stone beaches, you will already realise (way before we did!) that it's an absolute muscle shredder. And to top it all off, the Cove Pub in the distance wasn't getting any closer and my mouth was getting drier and drier in the anticipation of an ice-cold shandy. The last mile of the walk seemed to take longer than the previous 13 miles put together, but we finally made it and celebrated my first 14 miler in style... shandy and a bowl of chips, anyone? There and then, high on the joys of the walk, decided we'd do it all again clockwise the next day... and we all know what that means... Merchants incline. Eeeek! But as always, the thought of it was far worse than the actual incline-climb and on Tuesday morning we made it to the top relatively unscathed, to see the Olympic Rings- a memorial form the 2012 Olympic Games. Although, we then found ourselves back on the coastal path we saw coves and scenery from a different view point to yesterday. And more importantly, my body was holding up- it didn't feel like we had walked a fairly long distance the day before and i felt just as much joy at putting one foot in front of the other. Winner! There's something about getting up and thinking about nothing but walking... no work, no tea times, no fitting it in around everything else-just you and your footsteps. And the walk in the sunshine to Weymouth on Wednesday was equally as manageable... although, the Fish and Chip reward waiting for us at Weymouth Harbour might have had something to do with that. Thirty miles in three days was fine and filled me with confidence that the 120km of the Camino in six days is totally possible for me... although I'm definitely not going to attempt it with belly full of Fish and Chips. Thanks for having me Portland... its been idyllic. x

May 2022 is National Walking Month, so get your trainers on, get outside and get walking... you can also read, draw and write while you're at it... https://www.livingstreets.org.uk/get-involved/campaign-with-us/national-walking-month So, in the middle of March I wrote a post on Wonder Walking- the whys of a walk and it covered the myriad of reasons why a stroll is good for the soul. There are the fundamental whys behind a walk such as to get from A to B or for exercise, then there's walking to feel connected to family, friends, the environment or even ourselves and also the opposite is true, sometimes we walk to zone out and to step out of the world for a while. At other times we walk to find inspiration, to mull over a problem, to engage our senses and feel excited by our surroundings. All the wonderful why's of a walk. I didn't think walking could get much better... until I read about a different why of walking on twitter and it felt like discovering peanut butter and marmite on toast all over again. Two of my favorite toast toppings that I had never have considered combining, but when I did it was like they should never have been apart. A match made in toast topping heaven. So, imagine my delight when read about a WALKING BOOK CLUB... The Indie bookshop, Seven Fables in Dulverton has created a Walking Book Club, it says on the website, 'if you love reading and enjoy walking, then this could be just the book club you have been waiting for.' Yes please...(with peanut butter and marmite on the top!) Walking and talking about about a book, with other book lovers sounds like my kind of way to spend a walk... and then I read the walk is in the woods of Exmoor (blue bells a plenty) and the author of the book being discussed will also be attending. Whhhaaaat? How has this not been 'a thing' before now? (or has it and I've missed it?) So, I scrolled through the authors who'd previously attended and the books and the women authors are right up my street...with the likes of Jane Lovell, Katharine May and Jackie Morris. And I can't believe the wonderful Raynor Winn (author of the Salt Path, which planted the seed of a pilgrimage in my mind) was on a Walking Book Club with her follow up book The Wild Silence being discussed (I am saving this book for my holiday read!). Oh why do I live in the land locked Midlands? I contacted Seven Fables to share my joy at the idea of a walking book club and chatted with the lovely Davina, who shared the inspiration behind such a novel (pun intended!) idea. It was inspred by an episode of Ramblings with Claire Balding who joined Emily's Walking Book Club. (The first outing is on their old blog if you would like to listen to it. http://dulverton.blogspot.com/2013/04/number-sevens-first-walking-book-club.html?q=picnic ) And that intitial outing has led to may succesful walking book clubs and they have recently celebrated their 9th Birthday. Congratulations all! If, like me, you are thrilled by the idea of talking books whilst your walking, you can find further information on upcoming sessions please see their website https://emilyrhodeswriter.com/emilys-walking-book-club/ and I'm hoping that I can join them on a walk once I have completed my Camino Way walk. This idea of combining hobbies and interests with walking also reminded me of the time I combined writing with walking at the wonderful Society of Children's Book Writers and llustrators Conference in Winchester. On the Friday before the 2017 conference, I particpated in the Friday Night Fringe 'Scrawl Crawl', which was an outdoor sketching/writing activity for both authors and illustrators, using the surroundings as inspration. We walked around the fabulous sights of Winchester and used nature, landmarks and shops to inpsire settings, characters and plots. I talked to lots of lovely SCBWI members, shared ideas and met my fabulous writing tribe. https://britishisles.scbwi.org/ We all know walking improves out health and wellbeing, but combining with other creative interests adds a different dimension and for me it doubles the benefits- being in nature and using it as inspiration means I immerse myself in my surroundings and REALLY connect with our environment. Writing and walking inspired me to create some fantasy characters who are true Nature Rangers for a childrens book series based in a local woodland setting. So, If you are and artist or a writer and you want to find inspiration or get the creative juices flowing, grab a note book and pens and get 'scrawl crawling' in your local area. Or if you love reading, set up your own walking book club with a group of friends. Read, draw, write and walk to your heart's content- but maybe not simutaneously... stay safe peeps! And remember to let me know how it goes x

We live in a goal orientated world. Where outcomes count and success needs to be measurable. Tangible. Something we can latch onto and pin our happiness on. Something that determines who we are. When you work so hard for that end goal, and it doesn't materialise it affects your mood, you start comparing yourself to others and all you can think about is giving up. At least that's how I felt after ten years of writing for children, six books, two agents and not a book deal in sight... that was until I started training for my walk. Walking has made me realise that I was so focused on the end result, the goal of having a book published, that I'd forgotten how to enjoy the process. When I walk, the joy exists solely in the journey, not the destination. The real value of taking part is what happens along the way, and imagine what I would miss if the destination (home in this instance) was my only focus. Applying this to the Camino walk, it also means that the six days of walking would be irrelevant and completely pointless if the ONLY focus is the destination town of Santiago de Compostela. And surely if this were to be true, then I (along with 14,000 other pilgrims) might as well get the bus to the edge of the town and walk twenty minutes to the end location of the church. And we are definitely not going to do that. Why? Because the journey is far more important than the destination. And I lost sight of this on my writing journey... The reasons why I stopped enjoying writing are for another day, but for now, walking has taught me to find joy in the process- because if you aren't enjoying a hobby/endeavor* (creative or not) what is the point? When I walk... I am in the moment. My focus on my footsteps. Sometimes the birds sing along to my march. Sometimes the wind nudges me from meandering. Daffodils stand to attention as I pass. Protective branches pat me on the back. I am enough right here. Putting one foot in front of the other. Sometimes I am in flow with the river. Sometimes I veer from the path. Robins fly safely by my side. Butterflies dance and show the way. I am capable. My focus on my footsteps. With each step I move forward. To where, I don't care. I am content. I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I am free. I am starting to feel this way about writing again... but it has taken time to get here. I have since changed my writing goals into ones that I ultimately have control over. I am excitedly trying new avenues (and hopefully I can share more about this soon) and I am enjoying writing more than I have in a long time. Writing this blog helps with that too! I am writing for me. I am writing to enjoy creating. I am writing because it's fun. Goals can be good, they give us something to focus on and aim for, but not at the expense of the process. To stay in a healthy mindset, it's important to cultivate joy in and from the process, rather than being solely dependent on the goal- especially if the achievement of the goal is beyond your control (as it was with my aim for a traditionally published book). If you have found that you feel too attached to the outcome of something, rather than enjoying the process, these tips might help: Readjust your goal- instead of aiming for something that is beyond your control i.e. publishing a book, focus on something that is within in your power, such as write a story/ article/ proposal. This also helps with unrealistic expectations and the pressures we might put on ourselves. Celebrate EVERYTHING... the challenges, the learning, the successes. Celebrate all the little wins! Print out any reminders of your hard work or how far you have come. Has somebody complimented you on something you have created? Print it out. Have you walked more miles this week than last week? Display it somewhere. The positivity steps show that we are part of a process and remind us to enjoy it even when things feel a little tough. When we are overwhelmed/fed-up/frustrated (*delete as appropriate) it doesn't mean we have to stop doing something altogether. Take some time away- you can always come back to it if you miss it. Take time to regularly reflect on the 'Why?' What's the reason you started doing what you are doing in the first place? If we revisit that regularly there is far less chance that we will lose sight of it. Remind yourself that its okay to do something just for the fun of it. You don't have to be the best at it, or in fact even any good at it, as long as you enjoy it. The process is where the real success lies. You own your process and you get to choose how it makes you feel. And most importantly, if the activity you are engaging in is causing you too much pain. STOP. Your choice, is the right choice for you. * This blog is written about my own personal experience with writing and the writing process which I work around my job and it is not intended to be reflective of all writers and/or writers who rely on writing work/contracts for income.

Finally, the days are getting longer and spring feels like it is springing, or at least its limbering up to whisk us away from the dark, cold grips of winter (yes, I'm being optimistic- I was camping in Sherwood Forest when we had snow THAT Easter!). But I'm looking forward to April with a spring in my step and the lighter nights mean I won't have to cram all my walking training into weekends around LIFE shaped stuff- which invariably means that my walking falls by the way side. The longer days also coincided with National Walk to Work Day 2022 (April 1st) so why not set myself another challenge...? Since deciding to walk the Camino De Santiago in May, I knew there would be physical changes afoot, but I certainly wasn't expecting the emotional changes that occurred. The challenge has given me a goal, a purpose to aim for and ultimately it has improved my mins-set. I feel so much more positive in my approach to life- and my attitude to opportunities has changed from one of trepidation and uncertainty, to 'why the hell not?" The physical benefits are inevitably huge- with each walk I get fitter and stronger both mentally and physically and the effects of being outdoors and surrounded by nature (both in green spaces and on urban walks) soothes my soul. On more than one occasion, I have found myself pondering on the natural world and whether we are doing enough to protect it... (the answer to which is a resounding NO- but that's another post) So when I discovered that April 1st was National Walk to Work Day, I wanted to get involved, but I wanted more! I am already mindful of my carbon footprint from my drive to work and I park halfway so I can walk the rest, but I've often thought about walking the whole way ( I just haven't got around to doing it yet, due to my love of the snooze button) So April 1st was the kick up the butt I needed to put my money where my thoughts are... only I'm not at work that Friday. So instead I opted to walk on all the other days I work... the climate crisis, coupled with the rising petrol costs and the 120km in six days getting ever closer, I opted for a Walk to Work Week. The Monday morning was a bit hectic (as Monday mornings usually are) and as I wasn't sure how long it would take me to get to work, I walked full pelt. I managed three miles in forty minutes and arrived at work red-faced and with blisters on my feet. (Mental note for tomorrow- don't walk in work shoes). The walk home was a much more leisurely pace and the chance to decompress from work, whilst listening to a podcast was a real treat. Tuesday morning was a slightly slower pace than yesterday and with walking boots and a change of shoes in my bag, I arrived to work in good time, with no blisters and a sense of wellbeing that I don't usually feel as I walk into my office (I was full of the joys of spring, apparently!) The combination of another mini-challenge, the exercise and a clearer conscience that I wasn't impacting the environment definitely boosted my mood. On the walk home, I had arranged to meet a friend (who's house I pass on the way) and I walked and talked all the way home. A great way to connect with both friends and the outdoors. On Thursday morning I was tempted to press the snooze button (I do this three times on a normal work day) but I don't have the time to sleep in when I'm walking to work. I worked out that I only get to work ten minutes quicker when I drive, and I would rather walk as it means I'm not sitting in the awful morning rush hour traffic. This morning I connected with the world and took time to notice what was going on around me and as its the end of my walking week I did the same on the walk home. I also did some conscious breathing in time with my steps- breathe in for four- hold for two and breathe out for six (this works well with my steps, but the key is to find a natural rhythm). So how was my Walk to Work week? I increased my work walk miles from 9 miles a week to 18 miles a week. It didn't cost me a penny in petrol (cheaper way to travel) It's an environmentally friendly way to function- reduced pollution and carbon footprint. It improved my mood as well as my creativity- I mulled over ideas for a non-fiction proposal I am writing. A very easy way to get exercise into my daily routine and get the steps in. It's an earth -friendly way to start the day and I LOVED IT!! If you want to walk to work but it's just too far you can always park your car a little further away from work and walk part of the way, or if you use public transport you could get off a couple of stops earlier. Whichever way you choose to do it, it's worth planning a route, taking a change of shoes/clothes to work with you, carrying an umbrella (good old British weather) and remember to set the alarm clock a little earlier and absolutely, definitely NO SNOOZING! Why wait till Walk to Work Day 2023, when you can walk to work this week? If you do, please let me know how it goes. I'd love to hear your stories. And if you are a women who walks, please see my Walking Women page as I'd love to hear from you.

Short walks- check. Fast walks- check Country walks… City streets- Check. Check. Check Walks into double digits… Errrrm! Walks back to back… Double errrm! So, last weekend arrived and I found myself facing a ten mile walk on the Saturday, followed by a 9 miler on the Sunday. This walking malarkey just got real! It was time to stop talking the talk, and walk the walk… literally! Friday night arrived with apprehensions, a nervousness… was I worried about the longer walk? Or two walks on the bounce? Kind of… but that wasn’t the cause of my fluttery tummy. After I sat with the feeling for a while, I realised I was a little nervous about meeting the ladies I'll be walking the Camino with, and the reasons were two-fold. One- I’m not used to walking with people, for me walking is mainly a place of solitude where I connect with myself and my inner thoughts (*cough- demons!) Two- liking the ladies, and vice versa was a pretty big deal if I was going to spend a week in Spain walking with them. Eek! My chatterbox/ inner critic was going heavy with all the negative self-talk, but I as I’m more aware of the triggers now- I recognised the thought and I changed the pattern by counteracting the negative chatter with positive statements. There was no point wasting my energy on worrying, when I was going to need ALL OF IT to actually walk. I’ve got this, I told myself as I fells asleep. I’ve got this, I repeated as I stepped into in to my friend Jane’s car, I’ve got this I said as I met two of the Las Seis Camigas (new what’s app group name- do you like it?)… and both Mel and Grainne were lovely (our doggy company was pretty special too!)- I felt like I’d known them for years. And on that sunny morning in Berkswelll, with three of Las Seis Camigas, I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be. That feeling stayed with me as we walked along village roads, through fields, past duck ponds and took a few wrong turns. It stayed with me when I watched the spring lambs, playing in the fields, stood on the crest of the hills, and marveled at the views. It didn’t falter when my back started twinging, my hip niggling and my stomach growling (snacks are going to be my friend on future walks!). I loved EVERY SINGLE STEP. Even the hundreds of steps we didn't plan due to taking a detour around to the HS2 demolition derby destroying the countryside (shocking – the destruction that is, not the detour). But those two extra miles were walked and talked away with ease. I loved the way we round-robined our conversations, sometimes in twos with different people, sometimes in a three whilst one of us had a moment to ourselves and sometimes together as a four. We also met people along the way- an over 50’s meet up walking group, a young couple who'd also taken a few wrong turns, and a very friendly man who couldn’t tell us the way whilst standing in front of the sign that did. We walked 12 miles in four and half hours and the enjoyment from the walk itself was wonderful, but the icing on the walking-cake was a delicious meal in the pub afterwards. I could definitely get used to this! After an early night Saturday night (I was absolutely zonked- but in that lovely ‘I’ve achieved loads’ kind of zonked), I bounced out of bed and into my walking gear for round two. A nine mile walk to Warwick to watch my youngest son play football. My mind was more engaged than my body was and it groaned a little as we settled into our quickstep. If a quickstep dance is fast and powerfully flowing, then our walk also deserved this title. Lively and exciting- what this walk lacked in distance, it made up for in pace. I’m generally a fast walker but my mate Becks is another level- and we marched the streets, circumnavigated the War Memorial Park and charged down the magnificent and seemingly never ending Kenilworth Road. We walked and we talked, and we talked and we walked, barely stopping for breath… until the scent of coffee on the breeze tugged at our nostrils, enticing us in to refuel. That coffee was nectar for my soul and the sandwich was heaven on a plate… well, heaven in a bag as I ate it next to the football pitch with the whiff of freshly released feet as a side dish! We completed nine miles in 2 hours 15, and boy did my feet know it. Blisters, blummin, blisters! But I figure my feet need to get used to it and harden up- and they will… they’ll have to if they are required to walk an additional four days with almost double the daily miles. What have I actually signed myself up for? Cue chatterbox and negative self- talk… But I’m not having any of it… I’VE GOT THIS! I’VE GOT THIS! I’VE GOT THIS… Right?

Walking for connectedness, creative inspiration, and a million other whys! So with the emergence of a niggly back (well, that’s what you get for showing off and chasing your kids up hills last week) and the absence of any training walks this week (well, anything over 3 miles) I was reflecting on the reasons why I walk, why I’ve always walked… And the image of a screaming new-born flashed into my thoughts accompanied by a soundbite from my other half- ‘Why don’t you walk? You always feel better when you walk.’ And he was right, that day I put my very new and very screamy son in his pram and I walked and walked and walked. That first year, I must have walked a million marathons (artistic license of course) with my son in his pram and then his buggy and then his ride along trike. And this weekend, that teenage boy and I walked together to drop a parcel off at a friend’s… but as we walked and talked I realised the ‘parcel dropping’ wasn’t the why of that walk… it might have been the goal, but it wasn’t the purpose. The why was for me to connect with my son, to catch up in an otherwise busy week and see how he is. Always much easier with teenagers when you are striding side by side. And whilst I may not have been firmly in the Camino Training Zone, this week I have walked… A LOT! I walked for exercise, for some me-time, for some zoning-out time (podcasts a plenty here) to get to work (3miles in 40 minutes- I’m really proud of that one!) and yesterday morning I went for a creative walk. There is something about walking and creative inspiration, isn’t there? Apparently, a walk can improve your creative output by 60%, especially if you are looking for a fresh perspective and new ideas (https://news.stanford.edu/2014/04/24/walking-vs-sitting-042414/ ) And as a children’s writer, I’m used to walking to get the creative juices flowing, but since the pandemic derailed my writing brain, it’s been a while. And although this walk was to find some inspiration, it wasn’t for mulling over the sticky bits of my children’s stories, be it characters, plot or themes, it was to come up with an idea for a new writing avenue… A wonder walk, or wonder wander as I like to call it. As it is my year of being brave, I decided to apply this to my writing goals and push myself into new writing territory. So, when I saw a call out for a writing commission that actually resonated with me- a proposal regarding outdoor walking space, I squealed with joy as it is right up my street. I’m going to do this, I thought, right up until I talked myself out of it… or rather Felicity (my Imposter Syndrome) did. So, I put it off. Until yesterday morning, when my ‘Be Brave badass Buddha’ talked me right back in to it (and my friends on twitter offered gentle encouragement- thanks guys!) ‘I AM DOING THIS!’ I thought. But the ideas, like the five o’clock traffic on the Coventry ring road, weren’t flowing … so I set myself an intention to explore what I could bring to the brief and off I went. Ten minutes in… Bingo… a new idea! Thirty minutes in, I had narrowed down my favourite routes to two options and by the time I’d walked for forty-five minutes the form of the piece was clear. Get in! After my successful wonder wander, I sat down for a well-deserved cuppa and a new unexpected perspective emerged. I often reject myself without giving anyone the opportunity to assess and accept/reject me or my work… be it job interviews, writing projects, even writing a blog that I thought no one would read. But I’m going to stop ruling myself out of things before I’ve even ruled myself in. You have to be in it to win it, right? So, things are going to change around here and awareness is the very first step. Every journey will start with an open heart, a curious mind and the conscious act of ruling myself into opportunities. On that note, I’m off to write about my walks for the second time today and I'm excited about the possibility of a new opportunity. Wish me luck x What types of Wonder Wanders do you take? Do you walk to feel excited by your surroundings or engage your senses? Do you stroll to invoke peace and calm? Or do you stride to find inspiration? I’d love to hear from you in the comments below or you can find me on twitter @tizzief Alternatively, if you’d like to try a Wonder Wander, set yourself and intention and open yourself up to the possibility of fresh perspectives and new ideas … and don’t forget to let me know how it goes.

How jogging became 'Plogging' and walking became 'Plalking' and all the shenanigans in between. In the spirit of changing my ‘musts’ and ‘shoulds’ self-talk to ‘wants’ and ‘would likes’ and trying to fit walks into the fabric of my life, I asked the boys and their cousin if they ‘would like’ to come for a walk with me. Well, we can all guess the resounding response to that as they stared at the screen in front of them (controlling the scarily realistic men as they run around a football pitch). So, I changed tack- I ‘would really like it’ if you’d come out for a walk with me today, which resulted in a ‘Nah thanks’. Then I did what any self-respecting parent would do when face with such disinterest from growing and ever hungry teenage boys, I bribed them with food. A meal deal to be precise. And to modify a verse from the famous song by a Scottish duo… "They would walk five hundred miles And They would walk five hundred more Just to be the boys who walks a thousand miles To eat meal-deals and more!" Anyway, with a meal-deal purchased along with a Cadbury’s cream egg for good measure (we need to keep our energy levels up, right?), we headed to Draycote Water to walk the 4.8 mile circular loop around the reservoir. The first part of the walk went something like this… ‘Are we nearly there, yet?’... Sorry, wrong mode of transport. It actually went like this; running along low walls whilst trying not to be blown off by the wind (we did!), me chasing them up hills to try to catch them before they got to the top (I didn’t!), and jogging to the end of the walled section (No chance!). With energy levels depleted, we stopped for a lunch break, watching the trout anglers in their boats on the water and the geese pecking at the lunch leftovers blown from our laps. It was a much slower second half to the walk, the boys walked along the water’s edge and I stuck to the path lost in my own thoughts… when a muntjac deer scurried out from the trees. I have never seen deer here before and it really made my day. The deer said hello to a couple of rabbits and they all hopped back to the undergrowth to a party that I wasn’t invited to. As we continued on’ the boys spotted a dead bird (no- you can’t pick it up!); saw a fish in the weir section (no you can’t try and catch it with your back pack!); and the next thing I know, my youngest was standing on a boulder in the water (you’ve got a long way to walk with wet feet- cue slight annoyance and much gesticulating to signal him to get out). However, it transpires he wasn’t in the water just because I’d told him not to, he was fishing out deflated helium birthday balloons as he was worried the geese would swallow them. So, whilst my proud mamma moment was slightly tinged with feeling bad for yelling at him to get out of the water, it was fully reinstated moments later when the boys decided to scour the shores and collect all the rubbish. We filled two rucksacks with over twenty plastic bottles, almost as many cans, crisp packets, plastic bags, washing line and a discarded coat. They would have carried on all afternoon if we didn’t have to get back to the car before the parking ticket ran out. As we were putting all the rubbish in the bin, my youngest said that collecting the waste had made him feel useful and my eldest added that it felt like they were doing a little bit for the planet, like they had made a difference today (the absolute definition of win-win!). It made me think about how we all might feel better if we engage in meaningful tasks and how those tasks ground us in the present moment. We weren’t focused on the wider outcome of saving the planet, just the part that was within our control- picking up the plastic around us. In that moment, I felt connected… connected to nature, connected to my boys. We talked about how other people across the country, the world even, could be doing the same things and I felt connected to a community. You can't quantify that feeling of connectedness. Those feelings can't be measured by a society that values external, material measurements of success and therefore it could be deemed less somehow. But there and then, somewhat unexpectedly, we all felt great. And when a lovely lady came up to us and said ‘I love what you are doing and as a lover of the landscape, Thank you!”-the boys’ smiles said it all! As we walked the last stretch of the reservoir, I told the boys about an article I had read at the beginning of the week about a student, Vivek Gurav, in Bristol who picks up rubbish whilst jogging who had started a 30 day ‘Plogging’ challenge. (https://www.bristol.ac.uk/news/2022/february/vivek-gurav-plogging-campaign.html) Meriam-Webster describes Plogging is a term invented by Erik Ahlström referring to the act of picking up trash and litter while jogging. It is a portmanteau of the Swedish term plocka upp, which means "to pick up," and jogging. The boys loved this idea we have decided that whenever we go out walking, (now forever known as ‘Plalking’) we will take reusable bags with us and collect rubbish as we go… starting with the empty meal-deal wrappers, obviously! Please let me know if you are a keen ‘Plogger’ or possible a ‘Plalker’ convert. I’d love to hear your experiences and you can message me or write in the comments below.

When musts and shoulds become wants and would likes... Wow, the walking party was crowded last week... Just when my Imposter Syndrome rocked up to the party, Illness decided to derail the journey too. So, my last post's BE MORE TORTOISE mantra, became be more sloth... or at least a sloth in tortoise clothing. You just can't walk when you haven't got enough energy to get out of bed, so all the best laid plans of hill walks, fast walks and long walks were put on hold. So, I retreated and rested... If only my brain had got the memo! I don't know about you, but when my body slows down, Felicity (my chatterbox) works overtime- constantly constantly telling me I should... I need... I must. It felt like harsh (and unwarranted) criticisms of all the things I wasn't doing and it left me feeling sad, anxious and frustrated. So it's no surprise that my mental health took a nose dive along with my physical health. But this time, after days of recuperating, and in the spirit of being brave. I challenged back. I was ill and this was a temporary bump in the road and in true tortoise style I would start slowly back on my path when I was well enough. But it started me thinking about the words my chatterbox uses, the unrealistic demands they place on me and how this impacts how I feel about myself, others and LIFE in general. And I've since learnt of the term 'Musterbating' (thanks Lisa), a term coined by psychologist Albert Ellis. Fast forward a week and I'm back on my feet, and me and my boys are heading to the South Coast for the weekend. My OH had kindly bought the trip to Southsea for my birthday as I had lived there whilst at Portsmouth University in the late 90's and I hadn't been back for 25 years (I mean, a quarter of a century since I'd been at Uni was not something I was ready to admit, but here we are). I was really excited to go back and also to share that part of my life with my boys. But no sooner had we arrived and the 'Musterbating' started. Not necesaarily out loud (this time!) but my thoughts go something like this... I need to get some steps in, I must go for a million mile hike, I should be walking. But this time I catch myself, and think about how I could reframe these thoughts. In the words of the great Eckart Tolle 'Awareness is the greatest agent for change' and I know what's going on here. And as I don't want to spend the whole weekend feeling stressed, I changed the musts and the shoulds to wants and would likes. I want to walk. I would like to enjoy the city that was once home. I will spend quality time with my boys (two teenage ones, so time together away from screens is precious) on the most gloriously sunny weekend in February. So, together we walked along the sea front for as far as we could... that way its win-win. I'm walking... I'm in the moment... I'm enjoying being with my boys. We walked 7 miles that afternoon, stopping in the penny arcades, fishing on the beach, eating ice creams whilst we watched the hovercraft land and basking in the sunshine of a wonderful pub garden. And then we did it all again in reverse, only this time with a lot less fishing, eating and drinking and a lot more moaning (but what's a family day out without a few teenage grumbles!) The next day, I headed our alone (the boys wanted to watch their beloved Coventry City) and wandered the streets of my old stomping ground and it would count as training. Win-win again! So, I walked where my feet took me. I marveled at the unchanged beauty of the beach, I reveled in all the fabulous green spaces- reliving memories of football matches on the green and carefree summer evenings. I appreciated the Victorian splendor standing strong on corners and woven within nooks and crannies of ever changing facias. The familiar, in the unfamiliar. A bit like me, really! The girl I once was, skipped on the wind, surfed the sun beams and and smiled from the windows. Like the Victorian architecture, the reflection staring back may have been weathered by time, battered by the tides, and remodeled by evolving roles, but it's core was still strong. Solid. My Uni days may have been spent in a haze of reckless abandon (and Two dogs and Blastaways), but I walked the city streets sober, with purpose and a dogged determination... until I was distracted by the lure of the second hand shops (but walking is walking, even if its inside a shop, right?) One pink, buttery-leather bag and an ankle length denim skirt later, I headed home. But, the closer I go the the apartment, the louder I 'musterbated' but this time it stopped me in my tracks. I realised that I do this in all areas of my life- writing, exercise, careers goals and even socialising- so no wonder it often feels like I can never meet my own expecations. But, you know what, in the last two day, I had still achieved my goal of 'getting the steps in' (over 15 miles) and it was a much more pleasant and enjoyable journey without the pressure of shoulds, needs and musts. So, I'm officially declaring myself as a 'musterbation' free zone. If we can make ourselves feel better in our pursuit of our goals, or the changes we want to make in our life, by rephrasing them as wants and would likes, well- that's win-win too. And anyway, I've got two months till the reality of 120 kms in 6 days actually hits, so I should... I mean, would like to enjoy the journey rather than focus on the destination.

You didn't think you were walking this path without me? You didn't think you could walk this path at all? Did you? So here I am, meandering through the Camino clouds with a couple of longer-than-my-walk-to work walks under my belt, when Mel in our walking whats-app group (entitled El Camino De Santiago, what else?) mentions the T word... Training Plan. I knew it was coming, I knew it was something I'd need to think about, but I was happy tromping on the track of Blissful Ignorance for wee bit longer- because when someone talks about Training Plans... shit gets real... real quick! Cue Mrs Imposter Syndrome and her two lackies Signoras Self-Doubt and Self Sabotage, showing up at the Training plan party. Like I've said, I've known these chicas all my life and I've established different approaches to keep them in check, namely pretending to myself (and them) that I'm not attempting to do anything new, anything beyond my comfort zone, in fact- anything other than staying exactly where I am. They like it there... I'm safe. And when I'm safe, they're quiet. But here they are again... So, when I know I want to do something new, or I've commited to a change/development which will take me on a new path, Imposter Syndrome goes all out to derail me ( the words in red are my indicators that she's lurking). To date, I've tried to manage her with three different approaches, and they go something like this: Ostrich approach- once I've decided on a new path and I'm feeling ready to commit, the negative self talk starts. "What are you thinking?" The voice (Felicity) asks. "You're not good enough to do THAT!" Ah, you know maybe you're right, I think, as I stick my head firmly back in the ground, ostrich style, until the chatter stops. My head has been stuck in the sand for nearly four years whilst my Masters deadline looms on the horizon! Meercat approach- The negative self talk is quiet (of course it is, I'm in exactly the same place I was before) so I'm ready to pop my head up, like a meercat, and take a look around. Maybe I'm ready to take the new path? Yes, I think, yes I am... Almost. Cue self-doubt and procrastination. Being the queen of #procrastitasks. I'll do anything but the job at hand; Once spending a whole day I'd dedicated to finishing my childrens story cleaning dirt out of the floorboards with a toothpick (yes, really!), before pulling my head back down into the dark. Chicken appoach- The longer I'm in my safelty nest in the dark, the more restless I get and I'm ready ( I think!) to take some tentative steps back into the light. I'm clucking and creeping along the new path with a delicate confidence, head bobbing with each step, until I'm derailed by the bumps in the road and high anxiety and overthinking take over. The head bobbing becomes jittery and jerky and I take flight, fleeing from the path when the chinks in my armour are exposed. Self-sabotage drags me firmly back to the nest in the dark. My friend, Dove, and I have talked about starting a business for a looooong time; we took the first steps and... well, you can guess the rest! So, you see, whilst these approaches may keep me safe, they also keep me stuck. They stop me putting myself in scary situations, but they don't help to get me where I want to be, which in this instance is walking the Camino Des Ingles (but it also applies to retraining, applying for a new job or putting a blog out into the world- as my twitter friends will attest to after my mental wrangling tweets this week). I know that I need to work on changing my limiting beliefs (that's where our Imposter System stems from, I believe) and I'll hopefully work on that as I travel along this path, but for now, I need a fourth approach. One that works alongside my Imposter Syndorme, whilst still moving me forwards. And keeping with the animal theme- I've decided I need to BE MORE TORTOISE... Tortoise approach- I know I'm not growing whilst I'm stuck in my safety nest in the dark. I want to get back on the path, and this time I'm taking my safe place with me. The tortoise-me, carries its home as its armour and knows it has everything it needs within itself. I trust that I will climb over the bumps in the road as I progress on this path with a slow, grounded approach. And when the voice says 'You've only made it this far along the path cos you got lucky!", and procrastination prevents me taking the fork in the road, or high anxiety and overthinking stop me in my tracks, I won't run backwards or stray from the path. I'll stop, ground myself and retreat into the safety of my shell, until I find the security and strength to start slowly along the path once more. Slow, steady and self-awareness wins the race. So until now, I've Ostriched, Meercat-ed and in all honesly I'm Chickening my way through the training walks and the idea of a Training plan. But, I am aware that I'm overthinking, my anxiety is heightened and self-sabotage is on the horizon... so I'm preparing the tortoise gear ready for an outing. May the tortoise remind us to slow down, ground our thoughts and focus on what we want to achieve in the here and now. A Training Plan isn't scary, it isn't a list of all the miles I can't do, it's is a plan of all the miles I WANT TO DO. The miles are the steps on the road to help me suceed in my goals. Okay, *cracks knuckles* training plan here we come... right after I've sat in my safety nest in the dark for a bit! Don't let Imposter Syndrome push you from your path, let it walk alongside you. But YOU control the pace, YOU are in charge of the steps... Walk YOUR way! Footnote: My hope was to include the Training plan here, so that you could Walk Your Way with me in your own home town, if you fancied it. But old habits die hard and I got a bit overwhelmed with how I was going to fit in all the training around, well, LIFE, and I got as far as deciding that each week will include a fast walk, a hill walk and a long walk (which will increase by a mile or two each week) before I had to stop and retreat into my shell. But I'm still on the path, I'm just finding the strength I need to move forward. I know I'm not alone in Imposter Syndrome. When does yours show up? What are your indicators? And how the heck do you manage it? (Asking for a friend :)) Let me know in the comments...

"If you don't know where you are going, any road will get you there..." But you are going to need sensible footwear. (Quote by Lewis Carrol, addendum by me) It's time to dust off the walking boots and get serious about this walking malarkey. So, full of beans (well, the juice of ground coffee beans!) and a ferret through the wardrobe later, I find my walking boots. I open the box, take out the boots, and there staring at me from the bottom is a picture of my mum holding Two year old-me. A picture I can't be certain I've seen before, but I can be certain I didn't put there. It makes me smile. It makes my heart swell. And it reassures me that I am on the right path. You see, my mum died 20 years ago this March and I often look out for signs that she is with me- white feathers, robins in the garden, that sort of thing. But finding this photo this feels symbolic. In the picture, my mum, Jude, is carrying me from behind, holding me, supporting me- like she did when she was alive and continues to do so through her legacy. Right there and then, I know that as I walk Camino Way, and things get tough as they inevitably will, she will be behind me all the way. The wind beneath my wings! But for now, as the rain taps against the window, and the wind rattles the air vent, I could do with a shove to get me into these walking boots and out on the path. And yes, Jude shoves me out of the house before I can change my mind and curl up in bed with my book. Cheers Mum! And so I find myself walking with no particular path in mind, and decide as I walk in the opposite direction to last week, that this will be an exploratory walk (a.k.a winging-it-walk). I'll see how far I can go, before my hips hurt, my glutes groan and my thighs tire. And I won't multi-task; I'll stay in the moment and focus on what I can see, hear (my knees creaking), and feel (my back bloody aching a mile in-seriously!) I'll mono-task and stay connected and present. And I do. I see the birds dancing in the sky, hear the gurgling of the swollen River Sowe and feel the sun on my face as it appears periodically from behind the clouds. And then the talking starts... I'm a walker. And when I walk, I talk. Which is fine... almost expected if your passing pleasantries with people you pass, shooing away a dog cocking its leg over your walking boot, or nattering away to Jude, because it feels like she's with me. But I pretty much talk continuously... to myself... out loud. I always talk my thoughts. I do this at home... I do it in my car and I do it on the streets. Since the invention of mobile phones the odd looks my way have been dramatically reduced and I can put my headphones and talk to myself to my hearts content. However, given that I'm supposed to be mono-tasking, I just smile at the passers by and carry on talking to myself. I know that by its very definition, walking and talking is doing two things at once and could therefore be deemed as multi -tasking, but I would argue that I'm not doing it to disconnect. The opposite in fact, I'm noticing my thoughts as they come, I'm connecting with some of them and others I'm letting pass. In fact, I think some would call that a moving meditation. (Please tell me I'm not alone in my walking meditation, ahem... talking to myself!) Anyway, I walk and talk through the back of the hospital and about 3 miles in I arrive onto the farm track that leads to Coombe Country Park. My feet feel okay in the walking books, knees are good, hips happy and my glutes aren't groaning... until The Hill. It's not Snowdon by any stretch of the imagination, but it takes a thigh power that I haven't yet built and I'm thankful for the wind (beneath my wings) which propels me to the top and into Coombe. A walk in the park...Literally! I pass blooms of snowdrops, a robin in the branches and walk alongside the Serpentine lake (created by Capability Brown in 1771) which slithers through the landscape, the twists and turns creating the illusion that its never ending (a bit like this bloody walk!) I'm about 6 miles in,at the 1hr 45 mins mark and I'm thinking about the route to take home. Well, at least my legs are, they automatically walk towards the Capability Brown trail- which is one of my favourite places. The field is vast and open, on one side the Serpentine Lake the other the A427 Covetry to Lutterworth Road- but you'd never know- it feels a million miles away from the traffic and bustle of the city suburbs. For the sake of exploration, I take the bottom route- as when I'm with my OH and the kids we tend to take the well-trodden top route out of habit. I find myself walking down the Avenue of Lime Trees and it is as every bit beautiful as it sounds. And I feel free- the open space, the sun on my face and my words being whipped away by the wind. I have a little chat to the sheep as I pass and apologise for interupting their Sunday lunch... some were eating hay and others were having a post-food coma nap on the heath. I'm looking forward to doing exactly that when I get home- a well deserved soup and snooze to refill the tank and rest my bones. My body aches from the exercise and my face aches from smiling (and my ears ache from the wind, but can't win 'em all, can you?) Footnote: Today's walk was approximatey 8.5 miles in 2.5 hours and for my first proper solo ramble, it was a good effort. However, I'm under no illusion that I need to up my game. The shortest walk (Day 2) on the Camino Ingles is approximately 9.5 miles so should be doable... it's the 18 mile walk on Day Five that's going to be the killer (even with the wind beneath my wings, and Jude on my side). Are these boots made for THAT? Will they ever be? Only one way to find out!