How I didn’t go to Mosedale

For a few days I have been planning to come here and write about my sorry state. Today is my one real day off (i.e. I only spent an hour replying to emails…) and I was planning to spend it on whinging and asking for cyber sympathy. But then instead I decided to get over myself a bit and go out.

I considered going for a run but with hindsight I am glad I didn’t. Instead I decided to walk down to Mosedale, sit on a bridge that goes over the beck there and have a good think. So I packed my hydration pack with only a map, some water and a thermos cup of hot tea, put on my boots and headed out. I slid my way down to Keld and on to the concrete road and headed up towards the hills. As I was walking up the track I saw a herd of deer in running away in the distance. There must have been about 15 of them. I have never seen deer in this part of hills and never such a big herd. It was easy enough to see them thanks to the overwhelming whiteness of the surroundings.

The sky in the distance looked ominous, it really looked like the weather was coming in. Good, I thought, it goes well with my general mood.

One thing I hadn’t taken into account was how difficult the walking over the moor would be in the snow. I couldn’t see anyone else’s footprints going the way I was going. Even without the snow, there really isn’t a visible path despite one marked on the map. So what I normally do is to make a beeline to the dry stone wall I am supposed to follow for a few miles where there is a track that makes walking easier. The ground is bog central at the best of times. Today it was also covered with plenty of snow. It is hard work trudging through the snow up to your ankles, it’s even harder when every other step you sink knee deep into the snow and the underlying bog. It felt like a metaphor of my recent days: I can walk through my days like nothing’s wrong and the bang! Suddenly I sink knee deep into self-pity that leaves me sitting on my arse looking stupid.

After what felt like hours I finally made it to the wall but the track I was hoping to find had also disappeared. The walking didn’t become any easier. I gave up on the plans of going to Mosedale. It would be too much of a trek in these conditions. Instead, I revised the route to drop down to Wet Sleddale and make my way home from there.

Hardly anyone walks that route, especially in the snow like we are having. It’s a bleak part of the Lake District, even the names on the map suggest that: Bleak Dod, Peat Hill, Bleak Hill, Wet Sleddale. I have yet to meet a more descriptive place name than the latter. However, in the untouched whiteness it looked less miserable and more just completely removed from civilization. The wind was coming from the west which meant that that it didn’t bring with it the noise of the M6 behind me and kept my crackling of snow from the herd of deer I could still see in the distance.

I kept trudging on, falling every now and again and getting my feet soaked in bogs. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to get my moment on the bridge in Mosedale but it was actually okay. At least I was out, which is more than I can say about the last few months.

By the time I reached the reservoir at Wet Sleddale, I realised that the sky had cleared and the sun was out. The nasty wind that has been blowing for about a week was gone. The surface of the water looked like a huge mirror reflecting the snow-covered hills. I have never seen Wet Sleddale looking so beautiful. I have been there a number of times and it’s not a spot you’d consider classically picturesque. Its charm lies in its bleakness. But today I don’t think anyone can argue how gorgeous this valley looked. And that made me feel better. It gave me a tiny glimmer of something resembling hope.

The clear skies also seemed to clear the dark thoughts that clouded my brain this morning. No, I’m not saying that I am suddenly okay and happy and cured. No. But this walk managed to save the day which would have otherwise been spent sulking on the sofa. The very least, it helped to pass the hours quicker.

Altogether I walked 13.4K over 3 hours 45 minutes.

Time off

I am having a week off from work in the middle of the season and I am struggling to figure out what to do with myself. I have a houseful of guests who don’t really need looking after, I have a phone that occasionally rings and a few emails popping into the inbox, but other than that, I am free to do what I want.

I am not very good at switching off at the best of times but after intense couple of weeks, this newly found freedom is almost unsettling. I feel like I should do it all but I am also lacking in energy to do anything. Today is the third day off and I feel the most tired and just want to curl up on a sofa and watch TV all day long. But I also feel like I shouldn’t do that because that would be such a waste of my time off that is a rare thing this time of year.

I live in a beautiful part of the world; one of the most beautiful, if you asked me, but I might also be slightly biased. I should be out there, exploring it, capturing it with my camera. Instead, my boots are looking the cleanest they have since I got them and still waiting for me to take them for a walk. I had great plans of escaping to the hills and go wild camping for a night, or two, but I’m struggling to get my head around doing that. I am also supposed to be running 10K in a couple of weeks but I need to trick myself into going for a runs to prepare by buying new running gear. In my head, I know I should be doing this as I haven’t ran at all since spring due to various injuries but I’m just finding it difficult to feel any joy or enthusiasm about all these things.

I also feel that because I have time, I should be working on a few things that I normally don’t have time for like the webpage and blog for work as well as our new booking system that still needs a lot of attention. However, I just barely answer the emails and check on bookings that are coming in. I should be working on this blog and putting the ideas I have into words but I am verging away from that as well. (This was not the blog post that I’ve been wanting to write!) There’s raspberries and gooseberries to be picked in the garden, jam and cakes to be made and baked but so far I only gathered a handful to go with my porridge this morning. I should be doing yoga for my back ache and so some intervals but so far I’ve only considered taking ibuprofen for the pain.

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I’ve been offered a free ticket to a big-ish music festival just a couple of miles from the door and it’s hard work convincing myself to actually go. Even if the offer comes with possible free drinks from the bar on site (perks of accommodating the bar staff at the guesthouse). I will probably go at least for one or two days, because I would regret missing it but I don’t feel as excited about it as I should.

Although I argued in the last post that I want to be more than what I do, I must admit that I am feeling slightly lost without work and it’s inevitable routine. I do enjoy being able not wake up at 6 o’clock in the morning and head straight to the kitchen for work and going to bed before 10 o’clock at night. But it’s the time in between that I am struggling to fill. I’ve been left to my own devices, house- and cat sitting for my employers in their beautiful home. But I don’t know what to do with myself. I feel like I’m letting myself down by not doing all these things that I’ve listed above.

I have been struggling lately with all sorts of demons and it’s probably them who are holding me back and sucking on my energy at the moment as well. But I am too tired to fight them and just try to keep them at bay.
Being a bit of a hermit, I hate to admit it, but I feel lonely and find myself missing company. I thought that after weeks of dealing with guests, I’d welcome the chance to see no one but this seems not to be the case.

It is Tuesday and I don’t have to be back at work till this time next week, so I have time to get over myself and go out to play. I have managed to cross off a few things on my list: I have spoken to the guy in Scotland who has my passport and who can meet me in Paisley before I’m flying to Estonia in a couple of weeks. I have booked my fights for Christmas and New Year which I am spending at home this year. I have sorted out my train tickets to go to Glasgow. I have got my hair cut and I love it. I have been for a short run. I’ve ordered a tent and a camping stove online. I have written this post. I have been keeping away from chocolate and alcohol… okay, that’s a lie. But I have limited the intake of both of them.

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Saturday night wasn’t for limiting my alcohol intake with a beer festival happening in the village and the Monk being my company

These are all tiny victories. Although they don’t exactly make me feel great about myself, they definitely mean something. Even if only that I am not a complete waste of space. I might even take my boots and my camera for a sunset walk to my magic place, Swindale (if it’s not exactly chucking it down by then).