A physical challenge

I’ve outlined already some of the challenges life has thrown at me. Some have been harder to cope with, get through and recover from than others. Despite these appearing throughout my life, it’s never put me off!

I’ve always been someone who craves a challenge – almost needs one to function. I don’t like to be told I can’t do something, or to be expected to struggle. There’s a very stubborn part of my character which has something to prove – probably for the most part to myself. However, physical activity/adventure challenges were easier to come by and have time to complete when I was younger with less commitments.
​
I think it all started when I was 15, with Ten Tors (a huge local army–run challenge on Dartmoor). Since then, some of my challenges have been seemingly big, in the wildernesses of South West Iceland and the Peruvian Andes, and some seemingly small, such as the 5k Colour Run, taking up and competing in new sports in my mid-20s and mid-30s, and being able to make myself take part in a river swim on Dartmoor – a huge thing for me to be able to get into the cold water, especially where the water looks black at times and I can’t see the bottom! #irrationalfears

Why take on a personal challenge?
​
Regardless of whether a challenge seems big or small, a challenge is never easy – that’s the point!

 The reasons I enjoy these sorts of things are always the same – wanting to break through a mental barrier, wanting to get fitter and prove this to myself, and the euphoric sense of achievement upon completion. Fundraising for charity is an excellent way to make it valuable for others at the same time. It’s also great to meet like-minded people, expand your comfort zone safely, get fit(ter), prove something to yourself, and get the sense of achievement.

The latest physical challenge I undertook was climbing Mount Snowdon to raise money for Animals Asia, an event they run in partnership with Nowzad. It had been several years since my last challenge, I had never been to Snowdonia, and ‘climb a mountain’ was one of the things on my 30 before 30 list which I had not managed to do in time, so I jumped at the chance to make up for this unachieved goal. The decision was made that much easier for me as it was to raise money for such worthy causes (more on the charities below).

The challenge experience

As usual, I had the date in my diary a good six months in advance, planning some hefty training beforehand, and, as usual, I got distracted and didn’t get much chance to train ready for the event.
Some people wouldn’t feel the need to train for a walk up a British mountain, especially one which can be completed easily within a day. However I had several things working against me, which is what made this a very big and important challenge for me – my previously broken (now bionic) ankle, my chronic back pain, and the resulting several years’ inactivity.
​
My ankle had been broken six years previously and mended with titanium screws. It functioned for day to day walking, and certain sports, but never regained full function and flexibility, which meant walking up any significant gradient with a proper walking gait was impossible – over time and especially throughout an entirely up-hill event, an adapted walking style could lead to pain in my foot, leg and/or back – my back which I’d been having chronic pain in for two years.

The back pain had peaked at one stage where nothing would placate it – not sitting, standing nor lying down. I was unable to get on a train and unable to work. A sports massage was the only thing that eased it, but the only thing which made it dip below a 7/10 of almost constant pain, was rest. So I gradually gave up all activity, with the exception of local walks; mostly short ones at that.

So I accepted the challenge with excitement about the hike and passion for the charities I was fundraising for. However as the challenge approached, given both my health difficulties and my lack of training, I went into it with a lot of apprehension and fear. Fear that my back pain would set in close to the start, or just past the point of no return – what happens when you’re half-way up a mountain and can’t get all the way up, or back down? I wasn’t sure, but I was sure it would be embarrassing! What happens if I start to get pain in my ankle, or if I can’t walk properly? Will that make my back worse, will it mean I can’t work afterwards?

Most of my anxieties were founded in reality, which made it very hard to overcome them, because I couldn’t rationalise them away – they might actually occur, however unlikely, and no-one actually knew the likelihood. I had no control. But then that’s partly the point of a challenge. You never know if you are going to be able to do it. And if there’s a problem, there will be a team of stewards, experts and first-aid trained people who have risk assessed and made back up plans to support you.
​
I would say it was the first third of the climb which was the most difficult for me. I was on the last bus trip from the meeting point to the drop off at the start of the trail. This meant I was waiting about in the cold and drizzle for quite a while, so started the challenge with cold muscles – never a good idea. Yes, I should have put in more effort to warm up and stay warm during this time, doing laps of the carpark, star jumps or inspiring the group by busting out some deft moves… a self-fulfilling prophecy to avoid a warm up through fear of injury… hard though, when no-one else does.

It wasn’t the physical part which was the hardest for me – it was the mental part. Stopping myself from trying too hard, desperately trying to achieve. Forcing myself to create an even pace. Over-analysing my body and how it was doing, and whether there were any signs of pain yet. Amongst such a big group of people at the start, it was hard to keep my anxiety at bay whilst trudging along – one of my techniques is to walk to a rhythm and that wasn’t possible to begin with. A third of the way up, people had naturally dispersed; advanced or dropped into groups with others walking at similar paces. This is where my mind started to settle. Partly due to the space around me, partly due to the fact I was part-way in and still ok, and a lot to do with the beautifully distracting scenery.

At various rest stops I was reunited with those I’d befriended before, so it was a great mix of solo walking, group walking and social catch ups during hydration amid the dramatic views. At the top we queued for our ‘summit’ photos and then retreated into the busy café to have our lunch together, and got a group photo outside just as the weather was about to turn. Just as before, however, it picked up shortly after we set off. Once I completed the climb part, I found the downhill much easier, mentally. I became my usual social and chatty self, stopping to take silly pictures along the way.

Every time someone asks me either ‘why on earth would you want to do that?’ before a challenge, or ‘wasn’t that really tough?’ afterwards, the same memory comes to mind – that of Ten Tors, when I was 15. I had no skin left on the back of my heels, it was the hottest day of the year I was parched even from drinking stream water (along with its moss and silt), I was tired, I was ready for the end – but then we passed over the brow of our last hill and all we could see were the reflections of hundreds of cars and a huge crowd waiting for us. None of us spoke – we hadn’t for the last few miles for fatigue – we just spontaneously started to run into the distance towards the finish line.

Most challenges unfold for me like this: excitement -> anxiety -> determination -> overwhelm -> in the zone -> tired -> doubt -> hope -> euphoria -> calm

…and it was the same this time. Once I was moving at my own pace, I got into my zone which carried me through. I got tired very near to the summit, when the top turned out not to be the top just yet, my ankle was hurting and my back had a dull ache – I was so glad to have taken my walking pole. This all brought back anxiety and doubt in my capability, but then hope came along in the form of the sun breaking through the clouds shortly before we reached the summit, rewarding us with a divine gift of a view.
​
So it’s not easy, it’s not supposed to be – it wouldn’t be a challenge if it were. The hook for me is always the euphoria at the end, in completing something at one moment never believed possible, having proved strength and commitment to myself as much as anyone else. Nothing beats that feeling. It also seems to hardwire the memories, so I always have amazingly vivid memories of these rewarding experiences. I’m now looking for my next challenge…

​Take on a challenge!

You can take on the Trek Snowdon Challenge this year as Animals Asia and Nowzad are running it again, and it’s so worth it! Trek Snowdon on Saturday 21st September... register here (£20) for your place, with a fundraising target of £300.

Animals Asia promotes compassion and respect for all animals and works to bring about long-term change. They work to end the barbaric bear bile trade, which sees over 10,000 bears kept on bile farms in China, and, according to official figures, almost 1,000 suffering the same fate in Vietnam. Animals Asia has to date, rescued over 600 bears, caring for them at our award-winning bear sanctuaries in China and Vietnam. Animals Asia also works to end the trade in dogs and cats for food in China and Vietnam, and lobbies to improve the welfare of companion animals, promote humane population management and prevent the cross-border export of "meat dogs" in Asia. Read more about their great work here.