On top of the world! (or at least a LOT of Wainwrights...)

Why is it when you stop that everything starts to hurt? I wondered, sitting on the grassy bank at YHA Langdale yesterday at the end of an incredible four-day journey.

When I set out from that very hostel on the Tuesday before, I had felt very tense inside about the challenge ahead. My pack dug heavily into my shoulders - would I really be able to heave all this weight over the fells? But the sun was shining and the expansive views going up Fairfield and Helvellyn simply took my breath away. It was only when I had to descend the notorious Striding Edge that things got a bit hairy. I normally love a bit of scrambling but carrying so much on my back made me much less manoeuvrable and I took a fall on the loose scree. I was lucky to come away with only cuts and bruises and made it to YHA Glenridding that night.

Awesome views going up towards Fairfield

Next morning, the world had completely changed: the cloud was low and the wind was up, shrouding the hills in rolling mists. Even if the weather was clear, I had a difficult day ahead: after climbing back up Helvellyn, I then had to make my way along the ridge before taking a bearing to get down a loose scree slope and find the path to Keswick. Even in clear conditions, it would be difficult but in a whiteout it would be near impossible.

Making my way up Swirral Edge was an ethereal experience. In the thick cloud, I couldn't see more than ten metres in front and the rocks were treacherously slippery from the drizzle.  The higher I climbed, the stronger the wind blew, forcing me off balance and battering me with my map case. Just keep going UP I told myself, trying not to think of the sheer drop that lay unseen on both sides.  I had no idea how far I had left to climb until I practically walked into the trig point on the summit. Barely able to stand against the gale, I crawled into the refuge to get out of the wind. What now? Getting up was the easy part. There was no way I could make my way across the ridge in these conditions.

Grisdale Tarn, near Helvellyn

Crouched there in the middle of the storm, I had never felt so lost and alone. No one knew where I was at that moment - if anything happened to me, it could be an age before anyone found me. God please help me to get off this mountain safely! I prayed earnestly. Opening my eyes, I saw a man emerge out of the fog. What he was doing on the top of Helvellyn in these conditions, I cannot say. He came and sat next to me and agreed that it would be too risky for me to attempt the ridge. He led me down the mountainside through the storm until we finally came out below the clouds and I could see the track to Thirlmere. Then he simply vanished as quickly as he came. To this day, I still wonder  if he was an angel in disguise.,.

After amending my route slightly, I made it to the YHA at Keswick. After the utter isolation of Glenridding, it was good to be able to shop for new supplies. The next day, the weather had reverted back to glorious sunshine and I had a superfluous day, drinking in the views from Catbells, High Spy and Dale Head. Even more wonderfully, my extended family came out to meet me on the descent to YHA Borrowdale. The last day was a killer though - around 15 miles and ? Ascents - . It was daunting - but then the adrenaline took hold of me, propelling me over Glaramara, Esk Pike, Crinkle Crags and finally the Pike of Blisco where I stopped for a breather to watch the parascenders. But when I started on the final stretch back to the start at YHA Langdale, the fatigue started to kick in. I never knew feet could ache so much!

Going up Catbells

Amazingly, I managed to complete the walk. Perhaps those hours in the gym weren't a waste after all?! And now that I have tasted the 'Big Fells', I am hungry for more. It feels as though a whole new world of possibilities has opened up. Despite years of abuse from me, my body kept giving and answering when I asked it for more. For once, we felt like a team, working towards a shared goal instead of driven apart by the demon of anorexia.

On Bowfell with Scafell Pike in the background

Crucially, I didn't lose much (if any) weight during the trip (adrenaline does give you an appetite, especially for trail mix!). And it was so refreshing to break my tight routines and have a healthier relationship around food. One of the things I will miss the most is how simple life was for those days - eat, walk, eat, walk, shower, eat, bed -  repeat! No barrage of emails, no competing demands flying in head, not even any to-do lists...just fresh air, bird song and mountains. It has made me realise that I need to slim my life down and make it less complicated...and keep up this habit of early nights!

So overall, things look good for my big challenge in August. But I still have to make my weight target to get back to my PhD. It's not over yet....

Thanks for reading ! :))