Teaching an old dog new tricks

When I left school, some time in the last century (sounds dramatic doesn’t it?), I assumed that my days of revising and textbooks were behind me. In higher education, I was lucky to choose a vocation that assessed me on coursework, with no examinations, so I survived all of that and allowed my brain to absorb other things, like the back catalogue of the Manic Street Preachers, and alcohol.

Fast forward some twenty-odd years and I find myself huddled in the corner on the train to work, trying desperately to absorb something and block out the background prattle about what so-and-so did to such-and-such and then put it on the internet.

I decided three years ago that I loved being outdoors so much and keeping fit, and being in the mountains that I wanted to do something beyond the occasional hike. After the usual internet sweep, I found mountain leadership qualifications, that allow you to (unsurprisingly) lead groups in the mountains. The mixture of being outdoors, learning new skills and meeting new people was too strong to resist. So I joined. My course in particular is at your own speed, no deadline, but at the same timet I don’t want to dawdle.

For the first time in a long time I have had to buy textbooks to revise from. In the revision process, which I admit I have been intermittent with at best, I have noticed that, just like I was at school, I am naff at revising and get too easily distracted.

It is quite frustrating because when I last tried to take on information, it was because I had to. What is different now is that this is something I want to do. So I find myself researching revision techniques. Using highlighters. Eyeing up stationery. But at the same time, I am driven to achieve, and I think that will make all the difference this time around. So it’s a double test – trying to get to that end goal, and also seeing how stretchy my brain is these days. Ironic that I have to do so much indoor revising for an outdoor pursuit!

Mixing it up

Well the illness that held me down last weekend was starting to dissipate by Wednesday and I didn’t fancy another weekend watching from the sidelines. I ended up by really looking forward to the weekend, and spent a chilled out Friday night catching up with stuff on TV, hoping for a good night’s sleep.

I definitely got a good night’s sleep because I overslept. Unfortunately, Saturday morning is Park Run time and I’m on a pretty good streak at the moment, edging towards completing 100 runs. I’m in an unofficial competition with a mate of mine to see who can get to 100 first. As it stands, I have a distinct advantage but I can’t afford many slip ups. When I got out of bed on Saturday, I wasn’t too worried, just get dressed, jump in the car and head down there. 5 mins, job done. However, it dawned on me as I was getting ready that the car, and indeed the roads, were frozen solid. It would take 15 minutes to clear the car, and I would definitely miss the run. Only one thing for it. I would have to run the two miles to the park, and only had 12 minutes to do it in. Long story short, I did it, but only just. I sprinted across the field to the start line where everybody was lined up ready to go. I must have looked hilarious. I slipped in to the line just in time to hear, 3…2…1…Go! A tough run, silly story, but a good one to recall all the same.

A few years ago, the same friend who introduced me to tabbing, also introduced me to a local-ish 10 mile cross country race that happens every February. A kind of curtain raiser for the year. Sunday just gone was my fourth. I like this event particularly because of its atmosphere and reputation as well as for the fact that you don’t get a medal! I’m not sure about all this medal (or bling) lot. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got a few medals that I’m incredibly proud of and are a memento of a great day, but I don’t enter races just to get them. Anyway, given the week I’d had with the black death and all, I knew I wouldn’t be shooting for a personal best on Sunday, so I decided to run it in my military boots, carrying my Bergen. It made it a test of another dimension and I thoroughly enjoyed it, feeling the pressure of another kind. It made me think about doing it with other events like half marathons and 10k races etc.

In a roundabout way, both weekend events required my mindset to switch tracks – to crack on and complete my task in whichever way possible. Granted, a little surreal, but that’s what makes the adventure all the more richer.