Global Sport Stories

The end of December; when you’re not sure what day it is or where you even are. This year, more so than ever, I really felt it. Unless undeniably disciplined, it is very easy to get swept up into the chaotic calmness. 

The terms ‘rest’ and ‘relaxed’ get thrown around this time of year. Of course for some, time off work is booked, no plans are in the diary and the rest and relaxation can be achieved. For others, diaries may be packed, with joyous plans of course, yet still packed. Hence the chaotic calmness. Or for others, it may mark business as usual: hospitality or healthcare workers for example.

Upon arriving back home in Worcestershire, I definitely got swept into a sense of chaotic calmness. Despite not being at work again until new years day, the diary was full and it seemed there was never a moment to stand still. I will admit to Christmas day being a very relaxed day, but even then you seem to end the day absolutely knackered for some reason!

But I mustn’t complain. Over this period I saw friends and family, day tripped to London, saw Coventry play twice and even caught a cloud inversion on the Malvern Hills. So as you can see, I am not begging for sympathy but the time for exercise and activity takes a hit. And despite filling my time with great fun and great people, the lack of exercise remained apparent.

From the 21st to the 27th of December, and the 29th to the 5th of January, I did no exercise. As already mentioned, I was busy and wanted to savor time at home, therefore, I wasn’t forcing myself to get out and exercise. However, this period has proven to me that I need to rephrase that last sentence. ‘Forcing’ exercise sounds like it is against your will, or just generally not something you want to do. However, I have realised that, although there definitely are times that I don’t want to go on that run, forcing myself out to exercise is good for me. It makes me healthier, it gives the day a purpose and I’m sure it makes those around me happier indirectly. This has taught me to refocus my perspective. I shouldn’t have time off because it’s “allowed”. I should still pursue and make efforts to get out and active – because it truly is beneficial. 

The one bit of exercise I did over this period (as I was desperate at this point), was running from the centre of Malvern town to the top of the Worcestershire Beacon. Probably a bad idea throwing myself into a 425 metre uphill attempt but for the whole festive period the hills had been shrouded in low lying mist, making for a sensational cloud inversion once breaking onto the tops.

I had fomo bad and thought it best to kill two birds with one stone and run up to the top of the Beacon. Now I will admit, it was more of a walk-run. That was probably my longest attempt at running solidly uphill and it was fair to say it wasn’t easy. That being said I managed to break above the clouds and onto the top of the Beacon in 16 minutes – which I was pretty proud of. 

And was it worth it? Just look at the pictures! Having spent the last four days trapped below in the unavoidable mist, the blue sky and dazzling sunlight was a beautiful change – well worth the pain and toils. Of course I was far from alone up there, but I really rather welcomed that. It was a magical spectacle and seeing families, couples and individuals all sharing it together was all incredibly wholesome. I’d witnessed an inversion four years prior on the hills, which was equally as stunning. Then, the ‘dragon’s spine’ of the ten other peaks was visible, unlike recently when you were simply surrounded by a sea of cloud in every direction you looked. Both were equally as beautiful for different reasons and both were a great reminder of the beauty of the place I had grown up. 

Deciding I had not actually ran enough, I set off once more, descending back into the thick and dramatically colder mist below. I continued just enough to have completed 10k by the time I was back at my door – a very nice way to have blown away the Christmas cobwebs. 

Now I can’t write about the Christmas period without mentioning the early Christmas present I bought myself – The Art of Resilience by Ross Edgley. A must read for anyone who loves exercise and the outdoors. I found I was kicking myself as this book had been long recommended to me and only was it now I had actually got my hands on it. And as cliche as it is, once I started it I couldn’t stop.

In this book, endurance athlete, adventurer and all round mad mad, Ross Edgely, takes us with him as he attempts to literally swim around Great Britain. The book is a wonderful combination of his mission’s anecdotes, combined with the lessons he has learned throughout his life to prepare him for his swim. 

The book is dangerously inspiring, and is truly eye opening as to what the human body can achieve when the right preparation is put in place. It was this inspiration that I endeavoured to take with me into the new year as I, rather belatedly, got back into the swing of things exercise wise.

Without going into my full life story, I found myself starting a houseshare back in Newcastle. This took up a lot of time getting to grips with my new surroundings and way of life, but ensuring to find the positives in the situation, it led to some much needed fresh running routes. Yes, that does mean running somewhere over than by the Tyne! 

My first exploration of pastures new took place at the start of this current week, Monday 6th of January. A nice 8km loop just dipping in and out of the city centre. The next day I was acting postman for my girlfriend – running to pick up a parcel from her house, before running to the post office to send it. Now I don’t know if it was my slightly funny looking running headband or the fact I was running with a parcel in my hand – but I’m sure something was causing the good people of Jesmond to look at me funny as I scampered past them. 

Regardless of these questionable looks, it felt good to be back more consistently active, and with a rest day under my belt on Wednesday, Thursday offered up a real treat.. The Lake District.

Only my second ever time in the lakes, it marked a real travesty that this was the first time I had made the relatively short journey across – having lived in Newcastle for over 3 years now. I think even before Thursday’s trip I was ready to admit that the Lakes were the best part of England, and these feelings were affirmed upon a snowy summit of Blencathra. The cold snap the UK was experiencing made for tricky conditions underfoot, yet incredible settings visually. The perfect white of the plentiful surrounding peaks, pitted in front of the empty blue sky was truly magical – and I would go as far to say one of my favourite outdoor conditions. 

Not even a slip and tumble on the ice before even making it out of the car park could affect my mood. Catching up with two uni friends, whilst taking in the breathtaking conditions made for a personally perfect day.

My friends, hailing from Carlisle, are common frequenters of the Lake District and I believe it is only upon visiting again did I truly understand their obsession. It holds so much history, and so much potential to learn about. I found myself brimming with jealousy of my friend’s armoury of local knowledge and their tales of countless expeditions they had enjoyed in the past. Jealousy aside though, it was great to hear all their local tales, and thankfully we made it back down in one piece; taking the quicker route via sledge. As well as a thoroughly enjoyable day out, it has given me a kick up the ass to try and plan and go out of my way more to return to the lakes and start learning and exploring more of the area. 

To round off the end of what was a brilliant week, and that well and truly marks the end of the “in between phase”, was a first surf of the new year! Complete with my new gloves and boots that I was gifted for Christmas, I survived the icy Tynemouth pavements and frosty beach to get out into some great conditions. The temperature may have not got over 0 degrees, but that was stopping nobody, as the North Sea was well and truly teeming with surfers. Unlike the hardcore lineups of Hawaii or Indonesia, busy waters tend to pose less of a problem when there is a clear mix of abilities in the English waters. Geordies can surf, don’t get me wrong, however the threat of someone dropping in on you is rare due to the relentless nature of waves the icy waters possess.

The festive period is one of excitement, relaxation and hence a chaotic calmness. I enjoy it, however the last week has made me realise a return to ‘normality’ is also not such a bad thing. If you can count hiking through snow and surfing in the same week as normality…