Everything. At once.

There are a few times in your life when you realise how much stuff you really have. I like to think of myself as straightforward, simple and of few possessions. I fully believed this until I moved house. It was further reiterated over the weekend when I began to sort my kit out for my week away next week.

It’s usually a complex operation anyway, sorting stuff out for the actual hiking, and then the camping too, but this time it nearly blew my head off. I think it’s a gender thing, but my mind can only cope with two maybe three things at once, so imagine me pulling all my clobber out for all of the things I have planned for my four days. I’m hoping to get two hikes in for my mountain leadership qualification (the main purpose for the trip), so there’s a load of gear for each hike, assuming I’m going to get wet at least once so I have to take two of everything, plus spares. Then I’m planning to do a dummy run of the Fan Dance, so there’s everything associated with that, like the boots, Bergen, extra clothing too. Add on all the camping stuff as well as food, and campsite equipment. Then on top of it, I’m hoping to squeeze in a mountain run.

By Friday evening, I couldn’t see the floor for bags, clothes, shoes, and other paraphernalia. I have made lists over the years that I can go to for different scenarios to ensure that I pack everything. This trip is somewhat different though, it is everything, all at once. Four whirlwind days.

All this is actually fun though believe it or not. It’s one of those things that keeps me on my toes, like a midget at a urinal. The easy thing would obviously be to have pre-packed bags that I can just grab and go. This has been considered and is almost achievable except it has the potential to be very expensive, with doubling up of kit and equipment, which I’m not in the position to be able to do. But where’s the fun there??!

Modern toss (and the art of Shinrin-yoku)

Despite feeling exhausted on Sunday morning when I woke up (a couple of hours before my alarm), I knew I needed to get out. I set out running just before six, heading off in the bright sunshine, heading in one direction – out of town.

It may be a modern human condition or something deep within us from generations gone by, but a lot of people feel the need to get outdoors to relax, escape and deal with various stresses. It is widely known that green is a relaxing colour, and I can’t help but feel this is deeply wired in us from when greenery surrounded us more than it does today.

Two miles in, and the houses are getting fewer and fewer. Hedgerows appear, copses, circling swallows and insistent skylarks. By the time I get to the woods, the silence and the low morning sunlight flooding in makes me stop and just sit. I sit down on a fallen tree and just soaked up the surroundings, immersing myself in nature and the feeling of breathing in the new day, replacing the negativity.

During the 1980s, the Japanese developed Shinrin-yoku, also known as forest bathing, which involves taking in the forest with the senses. You can either sit, or walk in a forest and soak everything up, just as I did. It doesn’t involve any high intensity exercise and has been proven to be very successful. A 2-hour forest bathe helps you to unplug from the working day, laptops, phones and other modern day distractions and stress enhancers.

It is predicted that by 2050, 66% of the planet’s population will live in cities. With cities and towns getting bigger and bigger, this is not too surprising. I always imagine cities like giant octopuses, spreading their tarmac tentacles out into the countryside, swallowing it in chunks and expanding their concrete mass as they go.

I know I will always favour the outdoors as therapy. It works for me in many ways to cope with modern life. Plus it’s much more interesting than 99% of what’s on television and spending hours reading silly blogs online. Oh, hang on…