Anatomy of a walk: steps taken 26062, Km walked 19.8, calories burned 981, grams of fat burned 65.4
I’m not going to lie- the aftermath of last week’s training walk can only really be described as dire. I hobbled pathetically for days afterwards, feet bandaged up with huge cotton pads and multiple pairs of socks, aching muscles turning even pottering around the house into a painful ordeal, my water-logged walking gear forming a small puddle in the hall.
So it was a sense of cold hard duty, rather than any form of eagerness, that made me drag myself out of bed on Sunday morning. With an enormous mug of tea, I stood pyjama-clad in the kitchen, unable to quite make up my mind about whether to slap on my boots and hit the road, or crawl back under the cover and postpone the training walk for another day. As I was weighing up these options, and was just leaning towards the idea of a guilty sofa day, my housemate Andy bounded in, “Should we go for a walk?” A walking buddy! This swung the balance for me, and we were kitted up and out of the house within the hour. And what a walk it was!
Fancying something a little more easy-going and scenic that last week, I opted for the 10 mile route from Exeter to Dawlish Warren, taking in a beautiful stretch of the coastal path. The weather was glorious – crisp winter sunshine, beautifully bright but pleasantly cool. The water of the canal was a vibrant blue, interrupted by curious swans and (surprising slow) rowing crews.
The scenery was absolutely breathtaking as we made our way from the canal to the estuary, stopping at the beautiful Turf Lock for our picnic. The pub/hotel was closed, which was great as we were able to eat our sandwiches without fear of being chased off by an angry hotelier.
The walk took a somewhat dramatic turn as we approached Starcross, and rounding a bend, came across half a dozen people with soaking feet and trousers attempting to breathe life into a sputtering, water-logged car. Behind them, the road was flooded as far as the next bend, and there was no way round. Resigned to what needed to be done, I pulled off my shoes and socks, rolled my trousers up to my knees, and set off into the icy brown water. Once my feet numbed to the cold it was actually quite enjoyable splashing my way through the 200m stretch, watching surprised cyclists wobble dangerously as their feet splashed through the water.
After we left Starcross behind, the route crossed inland of the railway track and became much less scenic, so the last few miles weren’t quite as wonderful as the start, but we made reasonable time to the train station and were back in Exeter in no time. All in all, a great walk for getting over the horrors of last week’s training session, and a reminder that its supposed to be fun, too!
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