In the beginning

Operation 360

So, 2010 was a funny old year. I almost lost my job and saved it, I moved to a rented house, I failed to sell my own house, I fell in love, I had my heart broken. Juxto and position all rolled into one. So, I resolved; 2011 would be different. I would reclaim some of the me that seemed to get so squashed when my heart shattered. And while I was doing it I would enjoy the greatest place on earth. The English Lake District.

The rules of engagement are simple enough. I will do some physical exercise each day for 360 days of the year. This allows 5 days for emergencies, illness and plain can't really be botherdness...

I have a plan. Operation 360 starts here.

Day 1: Saturday January 1st 2011

As resolutions go it is a pretty massive deal. I am almost setting myself to fail and in a twisted way that is precisely why I am making it so massive. Setting little goals is okay, the problem is I tend to shrug when I don’t manage them. ‘Who cares?’ I think, whilst failing to care. ‘it was only a little thing.’ This is not, this is a major commitment. Today though was only a baby step, an unsteady totter towards next New Year’s Eve. After the revelling of last night which ended with me bidding a man clad entirely in lycra goodnight at around 2am and then spending two further hours putting the world to rights whilst dressed in a high-vis jacket and drinking pink fizz I knew that today might be a struggle.

However, on the advice of one in the know (the one who also happened to be the heart-crushing reason why I have decided to do this) I did make a start. In the beginning was the word, or in this case two, and those words were; Scout Scar. A long, exposed, flat promontory above Kendal where it appeared the entire population of the English Lakes were walking off their own revels (be they Christmas chocolate ones or alcohol related ones). There were some impressively outdoor clad exhibitions amongst the New Year resolutions (but then I once was told that folk in Kendal even get married in goretex) and at times I felt I was trapped in some weird, surreal Austen-esque promenade where the fashionable aim of the day appeared to be the level of waterproofing you could display  - regardless of the fact it was actually a very clear day. So clear in fact the Lake District looked like a cardboard cut out; snowy peaks prodding at the grey blue light of the sky and the open valley towards the Kent Estuary looking like a badly coloured child’s drawing as the dull green left by the melted snow smudged into ploughed fields and the sandy expanse of Morecambe Bay.

It was not a long walk. Only 3 miles in fact. Yet it was truly beautiful. I might be going to fail with Operation 360 but I have a feeling that I might enjoy the trying.

Day 2: Sunday 2^nd January 2011 :

With a house guest and a consciousness that hauling said house guest (who is from That London) up a snowy mountain might only cause me to be as unpopular with Mountain Rescue as with her I decided on something sedate for day two. A bit of classic Lakeland I thought – Claife Heights, aiming for about 5 miles. Having only really made my way around that part of the shores of Windermere on two wheels, where going faster and more efficiently you tend to travel further, I had to have a bit of a think before I ended up dragging my poor friend on a long, boring walk. I need not have worried; the experience of the car ferry from Ferry Nab slicing up the thick ice creating a  satisfying ringing entirely reminiscent of ice cubes in a G&T was the perfect start to a beautiful afternoon in the heart of the National Park. A short walk through the woods at Claife to Far Sawrey and then to the stunning vista at Three Dubs Tarn was perfect. The failing sun hitting the Langdales as we munched on roast beef and horseradish just before home provided a natural show of silhouette and luminosity and as I mused on the idea that perhaps the shadows are indeed as important as the light I began to wonder if Operation 360 might actually help my poor, battered heart to heal.