Mission Quite Possible

Today was the day when autumn really felt as if it had arrived. A definite tang of woodsmoke in the air, and the road is a mess of leaves and smashed conkers. ‘You’ll discover how the other half live,’ someone said at the village coffee morning on Friday, learning I wasn’t allowed to cycle for a while. ‘I know, it’s terrible,’ I said. ‘I meant how much better it is,’ he replied. ‘You can get to places in half the time and go twice as far.’ I suppose he’s right, especially as by the time I get back on my bike, winter will be closing in on us. Too easy just to keep driving, or letting the other half drive, more likely.

So I’m determined to get walking as much as I can, if only to help maintain my cake-based lifestyle. Once I can walk to the village (about 1.5 miles away) I can get the bus, which gives me a semblence of independence back, adjusted for the rural bus service. Yesterday I had a popup bookshop to help run, which meant a lot of standing and some walking around (mainly to distract myself from the risk of carrying anything heavier than a cup of tea) but I haven’t actually managed to go for an actual walk since my operation. So today I decided we were going to check the level on the ford.

road back from the ford

Road back from the ford. Who put that hill there? Also all those leaves…

A friend who’s been in a similar situation (albeit an actual caesarian rather than the world’s tiniest hernia) advised me that the real problem was that things turn out to be an awfully long way back when you’re recovering. This proved to be the case with the ford, too. We had to stop a couple of times while I reminded myself to slow down, the road having developed a number of hitherto unnoticeable hills. The main problem is I can’t stand up straight properly without feeling as though something is going to go ping, and without standing up straight you can’t walk properly, just sort of shuffle along, which is frustrating and after a while I forget and start to stride out and then ouch. In the end it took 45 minutes to cover the total distance of 1 mile, so that’s only about twice as long as it would ordinarily take. Operation walk to the village might be a few days off for me yet.

But you don’t care about any of that, you’re wondering what the level was in the ford. Well, despite some actual rain in recent days, it’s still dry as a bone, as it has been all summer.

dry ford

We will bring you updates as soon as the situation changes

5 Responses to Mission Quite Possible

  1. Anonymous says:

    Glad to here you are up and about. Don’t overdo it. Being in recovery is limiting and boring, so look after yourself and don’t make it any longer than it has to be. x

  2. Andy in Germany says:

    When I had my op I lived in a small apartment at the top of 94 steps. The attraction of living in an old castle wore off a bit then.

    I remember down was harder than up though.

  3. disgruntled says:

    Official advice is to get walking and mobile reasonably quickly, although it is silent on the subject of hills. I am trying to pace myself, though, honestly!

  4. commuterjohn says:

    You will get back on the bike just as soon as you start to feel stodgy, tired and out of breath walking.
    I came off the bike in March and ended up having my elbow screwed back together and 5 weeks in a brace.
    You can’t ride, but the bus does have lots of pleasures when it’s windy and wet!
    Then you realise how unfit you have become and swear to get back on the bike asap.
    When I did it nearly killed me going around the block I was so unfit.
    Every doctor said to me ‘you won’t stop riding the bike will you as its so good for your health’
    How right they are. As a cyclist you know you are fitter than most but you don’t know how much fitter you are until you have to stop.

  5. disgruntled says:

    The pleasures of the bus on a wet day are slightly diminished when you’re a mile and a half from the bus stop!

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