Don't give up

I've just read Ken Smith's book about his life, and the 40 plus years he spent living in a home built log cabin by Loch Treig. One of his tennets was "never stop" (when talking about being at the end of your tether in bad weather etc.) and "Don't give up" when talking about his many health challenges (which he largely aced). 

Another book also springs to mind when thinking on this philosophy, namely "A Life in Mountain Rescue" by John Allan. One of many stand out lessons from his many tales of rescues, tragic and successful, were the number of people who ended up in real difficulties, and those who didn't make it; due to stopping and trying to survive whilst stationary. The Cairngorm plateau is the wildest place in the British isles but a small amount of nous will lead you to many ways off it, if you are having an epic, including the Ptarmigan Restaurant. Many people have lost their lives, literally less than an hours walk away from shelter, because they didn't follow Ken's wise words. 

I can relate to this from many bike riding epics (mainly in Wales, needless to say) where carrying on was the only way out of yet another hideous death march, at 2am, after 18 hours on the go. To quote a naff (but actually quite fun) 'puter game of the '90's - "The only way out is through"

The last two months have been my epic, on the back of 5 months of pain, frustration, ickiness well beyond what even I could deal with and misery that this may run and run and run. The opp went well, and the good news was that this was the end game, i.e no more "thing" stuck in my fundament and freedom beyond recovery. Of course this precluded the worst two weeks of my entire life so far, and two weeks I hope never have to repeat again. I think that whilst horrible pain is bad enough, worse is when that you know horrible pain is coming, and there is nothing you can do to stop it (including 8 paracetamol per day, every day, for two weeks.) Goodness knows what this has done to my head health. I almost felt a bit of PTSD when things finally eased but having no previous experience, I'm guessing here.

Anyway, I got through it and once again, the outdoors helped me immeasurably. Granted, at first this involved shuffling out of the house into the garden, then to the open space opposite my street and the wonders of Saline Glen, then my local woods and eventually, further a field when I could stand sitting in a car for more than the 5 minutes to the Doctors surgery.

For the first few weeks, even thinking of sitting on a bike seat left me feeling somewhat queasy and even now, at the end of the road (fingers crossed) I'm still wary. I suspect I'm still a couple of weeks off and I've no idea how much my fitness will have been impacted, or whether I can come back to my previously high level. But today I did my first proper walk and what a stunner it was.

An oft photo'd view of the central bumps from Glen Bee.

Clear calm days are a rarity in the these days of fluctuating weather so this was a big bonus. I spent a fair bit of time stopped, eating and wildlife spotting. Two red kites, many buzzards, many moorland birdies and a fox!

I'm not out of the woods yet, and I still have lingering paranoia that the original problem will come back. It's also likely I'll need another (hopefully minor) opp to do a tidy up (urgggh!) but I think I'm on the home straight.

And one thing that has kept me going is that mantra. I've found a degree of persistence and resilience, which is entirely inherited from Mum and Dad, well beyond what I thought I was capable of. I'm reminded of my tale of my ride round the Highland Trail in 2015, when every day I met another challenge I'd doubts of dealing with, and every day I dealt with it. "Well that was probably the hardest thing I'll have to deal with, it'll be easy from here" except it wasn't... This last 8 weeks have aced the lot.

It would be nice to think that this was "it" in terms of health challenges for me in my life time, but I know this is not likely to be the case. A few years ago, my Sister in law went through treatment for bowel cancer, which she managed to deal with as well as it's possible to, and came out the other side with her health largely intact. Only for a massive stroke to get her, from which she couldn't recover. Fair to say, that this was hard to comprehend, particularly on the back of losing so many friends and colleagues to cancer, well before their time.

There is no redemption from any of this, it's brutally horrible. But the lesson for us all from Ken stands out like a beacon: "Don't give up"

Another oft photo'd view of my wonderful local hills on an oft used route. I will be back!