Walking – Middle Age Fanclub

Always Look on the Bright Side: Five things that made me smile lately.

It’s been a while since I wrote one of these posts. The delay hasn’t been because I’ve not been smiling, but let’s just say that the last few months have been complicated! Regular readers will know why and at times there’s not been a great deal to smile about, try as I might.

I write these posts mainly to remind myself that life is pretty good at least most of the time. Of course things will test us and our ability to raise a smile and it’s easy to descend into a bit if a fug about it all. Work, kids, obsessions with sports teams, relationships, taxes, traffic…they’ll all test your patience. Every so often though, when I have time to reflect I’m able to realise that there’s plenty to smile about. And every time I write one of these, people let me know that it’s nice to be reminded of the simple things that let us know that it’s not all doom and gloom!

So here we go…what’s been making me smile lately?

I’m running again. Before the last few weeks I hadn’t been out running since the middle of October. I’d missed it desperately. However, a combination of knowing that I needed to be patient with my body (how frustrating!) and the fact that going running genuinely terrified me, had kept me in my slippers rather than my running trainers. Not even getting a fancy new pair of runners for Christmas could tempt me back. While I was poorly I made sure that I went out for a walk most days. I built this up slowly and by mid January was out every day for around an hour. It would wipe me out for the next few hours of the day, but it felt wonderful. As time went on I would go for a walk/run combination on a Saturday morning, but that would mean running probably less than a mile all told. It didn’t really feel like it counted. Then, on Valentine’s Day, with the weather looking wonderful I went out for what was supposed to be a tentative run. I wouldn’t be going far – a couple of miles at most. I even took my son out as a bit of mini support. We ended up doing a 5k in just over 32 minutes and I was beyond thrilled. And beyond exhausted! Since then I’ve done three more runs, gradually moving on in distance each time. My latest was last Wednesday when I managed to run 3.75 miles (just over 6km) in 32 minutes. I clocked my 5k time as 27.49, which I’d normally be disappointed with. But, for the last few months things have been far from normal. Being able to run again and feeling even a little bit of confidence doing it has felt absolutely wonderful.
An unusual location for a jingle. Part of my new running route takes me through a business park. Twice now I’ve found myself grinning from ear to ear as a pie truck has arrived at the park and sounded an ice cream van type jingle to let office workers know it’s ‘pie time’! For those of you who remember the show, it plays the Benny Hill theme tune, which makes me wonder if the boss runs out with all their workers following them in some kind of slapdash column to get their savoury treats!
A snow day! I’ve only been back at work for a few weeks and on a very partial timetable at that. However, when school was closed because of snow at the back end of last week, I couldn’t hide how thrilled I was at getting a free day off! It was a Friday too, meaning a 3 day weekend…unbeatable!
Care Home Movie Posters. Now not only is this a great name for a band, it made for an excellent story too. This was something I read about on the BBC website; the story of how residents at a care home in Bristol had been recreating posters of some of their favourite films. You can read about it – and view some of the images – on the link below, but basically, if you’re not smiling at the octogenarian Godfather or Jean, 92 as Maria Von Trapp from The Sound of Music, then you’re taking life far too seriously!

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-bristol-64866813

I won’t spoil the story for you by putting the images up, but in looking for further information on the story I did find that they’re not the only care home to have had this idea. Below is a picture from another care home that did the same thing, but with different films. Again, if this version of Reservoir Dogs isn’t making you grin, then I genuinely feel for you!

5. Kids being kids. The final thing that has made me smile lately – that I’m writing about anyway; I’ve smiled more than 5 times lately – came on our snow day. In the afternoon I went for a walk in the snow with my wife and daughter and it made me smile a lot. Firstly, our town looked amazing blanketed in white, as did our view of Leeds. Secondly, watching my daughter attempting to navigate snow, ice and mud in trainers and a pale blue pair of joggers made me laugh a lot. Eventually, she tucked her joggers into her bright blue novelty socks, worn for warmth, not to be seen and slithered her way through the terrain like that. Unmissable.

Towards the end of our walk though, we cut across the bottom of a hill that runs around the edge of the estate where we live. Above us, on various positions around the hill were dozens of children and sometimes parents, sledging and throwing snowballs. It felt like a bit of a throwback to my own childhood with not a mobile phone in sight and instead, just kids being kids and enjoying throwing themselves around in the snow. We even came across my son, messing around with friends that he’s known in primary school, but had since lost touch with a little bit when they went their separate ways at high school. It seemed the snow was uniting us all and not just by imprisoning us in cars stuck in traffic jams for once. Even later on that afternoon, thinking about it made me smile.

I hope you enjoyed reading and that maybe my experiences made you smile a bit too. Whatever you’re doing over the next week or so, make sure that you try to find a moment to allow yourself a smile.

Always Look on the Bright Side: more stuff that made me smile.

It’s been a while since I wrote one of these posts. Over three months, I think. I suppose given the state of my health there have probably been less things that have made me smile, but having given things a bit of thought, I’ve been a lot less miserable than I imagined I’d be. And I like to write these posts to remind myself – and hopefully others – that there’s usually something to crack a smile about! So here’s a selection of things that have brought a smile to my face in the last month or so.

Walks in the park. If you happen to read my blog with any regularity or you follow me on any kind of social media, you’ll know about the park. Or parks, as we have a few good ones in my corner of Yorkshire and I don’t have to walk far to get to any of them, which is a relief, given the sorry state of my body for the last few months! I’ve been concentrating on one – Dartmouth Park – which was landscaped/built in the Victorian era and is just lovely. This week especially, while we’ve had bright blue skies, frost and crisp Winter temperatures, it’s just been brilliant to walk round. Such is my regularity there that I’m even on nodding/”Good Morning” terms with some of the older folk who go there too! Walking there this week has almost allowed me to forget the fatigue I feel and the irritation of having a little machine sat in my chest, working my heart for me!

The sun was just rising over the park when I walked through this morning. The light was amazing and the sun felt lovely and warm, despite the chill in the air.

Sammy Squirrel. We have a squirrel that visits our garden regularly. When our children were younger we christened him Sammy and to this day, we still refer to him as such. I realise, by the way, that it’s possibly more than one squirrel…I’m not an idiot. In fact, sometimes there are a few running about in our garden. They’re all Sammy. There’s no cause for discussion here. Earlier this week I filled up the bird feeders on our trees. The ground had frozen and although some would advise you not to feed the birds, I just felt sorry for them. About an hour after filling them, I was doing the dishes and some movement at the back of our garden caught my eye. Sammy. And thus, for the remainder of the week I’ve smiled daily at Sammy as he finds ingenious ways of positioning himself in order to raid my nuts (and yes, I did just intentionally make that very childish joke). As the week has progressed he’s got bolder and bolder, appearing at the side of the house, right by the kitchen window, perching on our shed, doing parkour all around the place and even sitting on our patio table to either eat or squirrel away his somewhat ill gotten gains. And yes, that’s another deliberate joke. As I type he has just removed the top from our largest feeder and is now gathering nuts before disappearing over the fence to hide them in the trees behind the house. This process has been going on for a good five minutes. I think he may be preparing for a party. It’s ever so slightly annoying, but I can’t deny that it’s made me smile. Good on you, Sammy!

Sammy, as bold as brass on our patio, chatting to a garden gnome about breaking my bird feeder, no doubt

I fitted a new light in our cupboard. Now this may not seem much of a thing to smile about, but if you had my light and didn’t smile as it comes on when you opened your cupboard door, I’d have to say that we couldn’t be friends anymore. It didn’t take any fitting; it literally sticks to the ceiling of the cupboard with a combination of sticky stuff (technical term there) and a magnet, which is good because my left arm doesn’t work as well anymore and I couldn’t have fitted anything difficult! However, it is very much a wonder. Now, when we open the door of our walk-in cupboard, where we keep our fridge and our big coats, it is lit up instantly like the Vegas strip! Sometimes, it really doesn’t take much to make me smile!

The prospect of snow. As much as I miss work, if it snows anytime soon, I will certainly not miss trying to drive through the snow to get there. I won’t miss doing an outdoor duty and having to scan the area like Action Man for fiendish snowballs being launched in my direction. I won’t miss the hideous feeling of slush soaking through my shoes. And I won’t miss trying to drive home in the snow as it freezes, adding potentially hours onto my journey. What I will do is sit in my front room and smile at the fact that I’m warm and dry, if still a bit poorly, in my house!

Ted Lasso. We recently got Apple TV free (I think) for 6 months. We’re three episodes into Ted Lasso and it’s superb. Biscuits with The Boss never fails to raise a grin! I think I actually want Ted to be my friend.

So, there we have it. Contrary to popular belief, I do smile. I hope you enjoyed reading about it!

Poetry Blog: ‘Every day, a walk’

I wrote this poem because I’ve become a little bit obsessed with walking. If you don’t know, I had a pacemaker fitted in November and as a result, I’m trying to work my way back to fitness and some kind of normality.

At the time of writing the poem, I was walking every day, like the title suggests. I couldn’t run, because the pacemaker was too uncomfortable and I just wasn’t well enough, so I settled for walking. However, Christmas got in the way of that, so now that my recovery is quieter again and my kids have gone back to school, I walk…every day. I’m building up to running again.

I got so obsessed with walking in the lead up to Christmas that I would get quite grumpy – or more accurately, more grumpy than usual – if I wasn’t able to get out. And I would be out whatever the weather too, because I came to depend on the routine of it all and it was proving a more than adequate substitute for long runs. Furthermore, it gave me time to think about what was going on in my life.

Anyway, it was only a matter of time until I wrote a poem about it. When something takes up such a big space in my life, I tend to write about it. As you’ll see with my next poem, ‘Taking Out The Bins’. Just kidding…

Every day, a walk.

Every day, a walk.
Some days you feel like you're fighting back,
others, like death warmed up.
Almost all, you're glad to be alive.
Whether breathless
or jelly legged,
alone with your thoughts
or in company and chattering away
about anything and everything,
swaddled like a newborn against the biting cold
in your big coat
that she zips up for you, because you cannot,
dazed by the noise or the light,
or the breeze,
bruised but not battered,
tweaked but not torn,
smiling, but not quite as happy as you'd like to be
and always, always tired.
Every day, a walk.

My first walk after surgery came two days after getting home from hospital. Down one street and back up another. I was utterly shattered when I got home.

At that time, I couldn’t dress myself properly, such was the restriction on my movement from the scarring and bruising around the site of my pacemaker. So not only did my wife have to zip up my coat, she had to put my hat on and do my laces too! Then she reversed the process when we got back home. Her reward was to watch me fall asleep on the settee!

I’ve gradually got stronger since then. Some walks feel great, while others are an absolute grind! Today’s, for instance, felt horrendous and I was out of breath and staggering a little having not gone far at all. There are good days and bad days though and hopefully tomorrow’s a bit better!

The final thing on this particular poem is just to mention that it came out of thinking the title out loud. I said it as I walked through the door from a walk one morning and liked it, so I quickly scribbled some ideas down and out of that came a poem! Funny, how inspiration can strike!

As ever, I hope you enjoyed the poem and always appreciate any comments, so feel free to leave one.

Poetry Blog: ‘Fog’

For around about the last month I’ve been off work, spending all day, every day at home courtesy of my latest brush with the cardiology department at my local hospital.

As part of my recovery, for almost all of the time that I’ve been at home, I’ve been going on a daily walk in order to build my fitness back up. Living in northern England means that it’s very cold at this time of year, so I’ve been forced to brave all weathers. When it’s rained and been freezing cold at the same time, it’s been horrible to walk in, especially when your body doesn’t want to be bothered. But, on days like the last couple when it’s bright and sunny, there’s something amazingly refreshing about walking in the cold.

Last week it felt like we were shrouded in fog for the entire week. It was cold, but not unbearable. In a way it was miserable too. But what struck me most was how lovely and kind of mysterious everything looked. And so it was, that while I was sat up, wide awake in the early hours of one of the mornings, I wrote a poem about the fog.

'Fog'

Looking up the hill towards town, you appear, 
a blot on the landscape,
tough shoes to fill given the presence of a paint factory 
at the side of this particular road,
but you fill them and blighting a beautiful day
you begin to strangle the light 
a creeping of the cursor down the screen,
deleting the optimism of a crisp winter's morning,
cancelling the order of light
and replacing it with not quite darkness, but a curtained haze
that disastrously alters the appearance of everything.
Later, diving out for some morning exercise
I try in vain to catch the sun through your veil, achieving only rare glimpses that turn this familiar sight
into an alien land, an unexplorable planet.
Still, it feels good to be alive, caught in the glare  of any number of incongruous headlights
and while dog walkers emerge unnervingly from the low cloud
their calls deadened by this slate grey wall,
I follow the path home to shelter once more from a different storm
and amble my way through another aimless day.

So, those particular days looked different and as a result of the fog, felt different too. In a way, the fog broke up what was becoming a bit of a boring routine, when my health meant that I wasn’t able to break it up myself. It meant plenty of opportunities to stop – and in truth, catch my breath – and just have a gaze at how unfamiliar this familiar landscape now looked. So, although I would be walking a similar distance each day, I was able to stay out a while longer!

As ever, I hope you enjoyed the poem. Feel free to leave a comment, as they’re all much appreciated!

Fighting Fit: an occasional diary (volume 2)

With time on my hands following heart surgery, last week I started writing an occasional diary. It seemed only right, especially after more than one person (including myself) joked at the time of my latest cardiology drama, that I’d do anything to get something to write a blog out of! Well, the joke’s on them; it’s very much more than one now!

Not a lot has changed in my routine this last week. It can’t really, as I’m just not capable of doing a great deal at the minute! I am now managing to walk every day though, without fail. I don’t go far. I’m not commuting out to beauty spots and hiking for untold miles across rugged terrain. Rather, I’m shambling my way around the streets where I live and making sure, that if I take an occasional selfie if it has a field or a tree in the background, so that my life looks slightly more interesting.

The positive with my walks is that they are edging ever further in distance. Or rather, I’m taking more steps each time. I haven’t yet recorded one on my Strava app as I feel pathetic enough as it its, without recording it on a form of social media that shows a map of my route and the invariably embarrassing statistics that yell, ‘Hey everyone, Graham used to be really fit, but now he can walk just short of a mile in 40 minutes!’

It feels quite lovely to be out though. I’d hesitate to say anything about how it feels to still be alive, but there is a small element of that. While I haven’t found myself standing marvelling at the magnificence of trees, I do feel quite lucky. And actually, last week’s diary did blather on about how dramatic the fog was!

In other news, I’ve grown a beard. This is largely down to circumstance, as I can’t really lift my left arm up for very long without it really hurting because of the scarring from my op. It’s also just an action that I’ve been told to avoid for something like 6 weeks, while my pacemaker settles into my chest, so the action of stretching my skin with my left hand while shaving with my right is a bit of a no-go area. Hence, the beard.

I’ve never had any inclination to grow a beard before. However, despite its whiteness, I’m quite pleased with it and for the near future at least, it’s staying. My wife and children don’t like it so much. It tickles when I’m near them. I’m certain that my parents will hate it too. Others have said it looks good though. I worry I might be turning into Roy Keane, while hoping that I’m actually morphing into George Clooney. Who knows what the truth is? Actually, me and it’s not the Clooney truth! I actually quite like it though and I’m surprised with how much I’ve taken to it.

As time has moved on and I’ve felt less pain, I’m writing more too and as well as some blog posts, I’ve written first drafts of four or five new poems. It’s very tiring though and so there’s only so much that I can do. I suppose I need to find some kind of balance between resting and trying to do more, while also kerbing my urge to just get stuck back in again at full pace. Some days I long to be back at work, but for once I’ve been sensible enough to listen to what the professionals have told me and stick to getting the rest that I need. Hopefully it’ll pay off and everything will get back to normal given time.

I worry that all I seem to write about is being poorly though. I suppose it’s obviously still fresh in my head, but while I had a tentative brush with something serious, I really don’t want to bore people to death about it now! With that in mind I’ve made a list of things I can write about so in the coming days I need to find the energy to research a couple of things and possibly write some Christmas themed posts.

The final thing that has been on my mind this week is my lack of sleep. Since leaving hospital I’ve managed one unbroken night of sleep. And by unbroken, I don’t just mean not waking up. I always wake up on the night. What I mean is not having to get out of bed.

Almost every night for over a month now has been punctuated by an extended amount of time out of bed. The pattern seems to be that I sleep for anything up to an hour before waking up, unable to get back to sleep. This then usually means a couple of hours or so spent downstairs, reading or doing a bit of writing. I even did the dishes at 1.30am the other day! I’m hoping that I can find a way to sort this out!

Overall, this week I feel noticeably better. I still get tired out easier than I’d like, I’m still bored a lot of the time and I still miss seeing people…but I feel more human.

Until next time…

Fighting Fit; an occasional diary.

If you’re a regular reader you’ll no doubt know that it’s been a pretty rough year for me, healthwise, culminating with the fact that I’ve been forced to spend some time off work. I’m pretty sure that the two sick notes that I’ve submitted to work in the last few weeks have been the first I’ve ever had in almost 30 years of working for a living, so it’s all come as a bit of a shock!

If you don’t know – and let’s keep it brief – earlier on in the month, following quite a while of being poorly and stupidly attempting to hide it, I had to have a pacemaker fitted in order to regulate my heartbeat. It’s meant that I’m not really very well, which I’m finding very frustrating. I’m not one to enjoy just sitting about and am pretty desperate to be fit and well again. However, I’ve had to realise that I can’t just be flat out exercising and that there has to be a lot of compromise. In short, at the moment there is actually more sitting about than exercise and a lot of time to fill each day!

I thought it might be nice to diarise what’s happening to me. I imagine it’ll help me think it all through because although it’s actually a fairly routine procedure, it has definitely taken a toll on me. I don’t think keeping it a secret for such a long time has really helped either, as it just enabled me to get progressively more poorly and ultimately more tired! So maybe occasionally writing about it will help me make a bit more sense of what’s happening.

Therefore, today marks the start of exactly what the title says it is; an occasional diary.

So far, there’s not a great deal to tell. I can’t do a lot of exercise because it means that I’m absolutely knackered afterwards! However, I have made a point of trying to get out for some kind of walk almost every day since I got home from hospital. I think I got home on the Thursday and managed to get out for a short walk on the Sunday and I’ve just kept going since then.

It’s definitely making me feel better and stronger. It’s good for mental health too as it means I’m getting fresh air and not just sat watching telly and feeling sorry for myself. And, possibly because I can’t go far and I can’t race around the place, I’m looking at my local surroundings a lot closer. Which brings me to today’s post.

I’m lucky that I live within about 100 yards of quite a lot of green space and that is bordered by a farm, which means more green space. So while I’m literally walking around my block a lot of the time, it doesn’t always have to be in residential areas.

We’ve been hit by fog for the last couple of days here in my bit of West Yorkshire. So, where normally I’d take a picture of myself out on my walk and post it on social media, for the last couple of days I’ve been taking pictures of the area and what it looks like shrouded in fog and I thought it might help put a different slant on my diary, rather than just telling you that I went for a walk and it tired me out! These pictures are just a few minutes away from my front door.

As well as making it a bit more difficult for this asthmatic to breath, I think the fog always gives the place a kind of other-worldly feel. It’s been so thick that you can’t really see a great deal of what surrounds you and walking round the quiet streets, any voices that might be heard become quite detached and hard to track down. It’s been bloody cold too! But, I won’t let it put me off as I’m determined to get myself fit, healthy and back into the swing of normal life as soon as I can.

I genuinely thought I’d be back at work within a few days and the realisation has hit me hard. I’ve lost track of time but can safely say that it’s been a number of weeks now that life has been completely altered for me. No work, quite a lot of pain and discomfort, little sleep, I can’t move well on my left side still and the reality that I really have to sit down a lot!

However, I’ve started to feel a great deal more human in the last couple of days and it’s meant that rather than just go out and concentrate on the number of steps I’m managing and whether or not I might pass out, I’ve been able to have a bit of a look around, especially as I think the place can look so dramatic when surrounded by the fog. I thought it might be a nice angle for this diary, rather than just telling you that I’d been for a walk and it had tired me out, so I had to have a nice sit down!

This next picture is of the top of the road that runs past our house and I just thought it looked pretty amazing (especially when you know that if you turn a little bit to the right there’s a big Aldi supermarket at the top of the hill!) The sun is doing its best to fight through the fog, but you sort of know that it’s not going to win!

Tomorrow, I’ll be back out again for another walk as I try to just build up a bit of strength, resilience and a great deal more fitness. It’d be nice to get to the second half of what will be a reasonably short walk and not be out of breath, but I know that’s unlikely for a while yet. Hopefully tomorrow though, the fog will lift and there’ll be a bit less of a chill in the air.

Until next time, stay safe, listen to your body and be nice!

Hitting the Peaks!

For as long as we’ve had kids we’ve tried to be an adventurous family. And while we’re not exactly off hang-gliding or free climbing sheer rock faces every week, we spend a lot of time trying to create memories for our children, while of course trying to massively limit our chances of dying. A kind of safety first and second approach to adventure, if you like.

Now, we’re also not exactly the kind of family that you’d find in an Enid Blyton book, so these trips are often far from harmonious. Tired legs can lead to words out of turn and arguments will inevitably ensue. Tired legs on gobby children with tired middle-aged parents? Well let me tell you, it can be a recipe for disaster! So when we recently visited the Peak District for the first time, I was prepared for the worst. But in actual fact, the fresh air and dramatic countryside seemed to have a positive effect on all of us and we had a memorable day. So let’s take a trip down Recent Memory Lane…

It’s mid morning by the time we set off for the Peaks. This is still very much a triumph for us. As I’m sure any parent will tell you, even the act of getting kids to put on shoes can be at least a fifteen minute mission, so when you’re preparing for an entire day out, with rucksacks to pack, snacks and picnics to prepare, as well as ensuring everyone’s got appropriate clothing on, it can take a while. And it doesn’t matter that my kids are now 12 and 9, they’re still almost impossible to organise.

Take the brilliant example from my daughter just this week. She assured us that she would be in and out of the shower in 20 minutes and as such would be sure to getting on with shower related activities as soon as she got to her room. The rest of the family was sat in our dining room at the time and this lies directly beneath our bathroom, so after 5 minutes had passed and we hadn’t heard her above us, I went to hurry her along a little. After all, there were only 15 minutes of her 20 left. So what did I find her doing when I got upstairs? That’s right she was crouched in front of a mirror and when I asked what she was doing the reply was simply staggering. ‘I’m just doing my make-up.’ Let me remind you that she was about to head into the shower. In make-up. As you can probably tell, with priorities like that organising them to actually get out of the house can be decidedly difficult.

Miraculously though we’re on the road by around 10am and with only an hour or so of driving to do we’re hoping we can find the place alright. And by that I mean the National Trust visitor’s centre, not the actual Peaks. I’m sure even we couldn’t drive round them. The traffic’s not too bad though and we seem to be leaving the M1 in no time and heading across country in no time at all.

This however, comes with its own problems. We’re heading across country alright, but these aren’t the kind of roads that we’ve gotten used to in Leeds. Not only are they narrow – in some places it’s a concern when a car comes the other way – but they’re bumpy and winding too. With kids in the car commenting on every last bump it gets quite tense! In fact, add in the fact that there’s no kerb to a lot of the roads and then sometimes we’re struggling to actually stay on them. Certainly, for a good 15 minutes it feels like every bend in the road may bring about an accident and by the time we return to some kind of civilisation and roads that can comfortably fit cars on, I’m feeling quite exhausted. Welcome to rural England, folks!

It can’t be denied though, that the scenery has become quite dramatic. Hills soar above us – they could be mountains, but sadly I don’t know the definition – there’s greenery everywhere and the sky seems huge. It’s certainly a beautiful part of the country and we haven’t even got to our destination yet. Unfortunately as I’m driving I can’t really take the full majesty of the place in, but I manage the odd glance up in order to get a taste of the place. People talk up the Lake District, but from what I can see the Peaks is every bit as dramatic.

Soon it becomes clear that we’re in the Derwent Valley. The roads are bigger, normal in fact, and we’ve dropped into the valley. We’re nearly at our destination of Lady Bower Reservoir. Our kids are strangely thrilled as we cross not one, but two cattle grids; so thrilled in fact that they talk about them some more when we go over them on the way home! And then there’s an expanse of water to our right – the reservoir – and within a couple of miles we’re pulling into the car park of the National Trust Visitor Centre.

Once parked up we organise ourselves – coats, hats, gloves and rucksacks again – and then buy a map. We decide to take a reasonably difficult route that features what seems to be an acceptable level of climbing – walking uphill, not actual climbing – and set off. At first it’s simple; nice and flat with plenty of lovely scenery to keep an eye on. But then, we take a sharp turn right and we’re greeted by what seems like a huge climb. Not to be outdone we stride on up the hill, passing families with younger children as we go. As we get to about halfway up the drizzle starts. All of a sudden our hike isn’t anywhere near as much fun. Within a few minutes we’re cresting the hill but the rain is now falling heavier. The terrain flattens out, but there’s no escape from the rain. We’re walking along the side of the valley, almost hugging the walls but getting battered by the weather. Impressively though, neither of my children is complaining.

We briefly find enough shelter to take a glance at the map. It tells us that in about 500 yards we have to go over a stile and then up another hill. Looking upwards reveals another big climb, but with no tarmac to walk on, so we hang about in our shelter for a while longer before bracing ourselves and setting out again into the still driving rain.

Once off-road the terrain becomes very rugged and very steep, very quickly. We’re basically clambering up a muddy, rocky path and while the rain has eased it’s still coming down. After about 10 minutes of trekking uphill, during which I’ve lagged behind a bit, (I’m 47 don’t you know?) we decide to stop for an al fresco lunch. I say al fresco, but it’s more sort of propped up against a farmer’s wall and huddled beneath a tree. Does that count as al fresco?

Of course this is the very time that several groups of people decide to come down the hill. No doubt they are a little taken aback at the site of us in a kind of awkward group hug eating a variety of now squashed sandwiches, but it doesn’t stop a profusion of the most Yorkshire of greetings – ‘Ow do’ – from them.

After about ten minutes we decide to press on, continuing upward as if we might actually reach the clouds. We continue to check the map, but to be fair the path is fairly obvious and at no point do I feel we’ll get lost. There’s also the odd pause to take in the view. As we climb higher the valley beneath us gets deeper and deeper and the reservoir below gets further away. This part of the Peak District is nothing short of breath-taking. But little do we know, that there’s much more to come on that front.

We climb for at least another 10 minutes before finally cresting the top of our ‘mountain’. And what a sight. Acres of countryside stretch out before us on every side and it feels like we’re on top of the world. There’s heather on either side of us with outcrops of rock punctuating it every so often. Sheep roam freely and there’s a sign that declares that there are grouse about too. Right on cue there’s a flutter of wings off to our left and almost like it’s bounced up off a trampoline – a grouse! When it lands it makes a bizarre noise and so I spend the next five minutes – with some success – replicating the noise to flush out more of them and amuse the kids. It works a few times and my youngest is definitely a little bit convinced when I announce that I am indeed, The Grouse Whisperer. Not exactly Steve Irwin, but not bad for a beginner.

With a long, flat stretch of path out in front of us we keep on walking. I can’t be sure how high up we are, but you can see for miles around. This was definitely a great choice for a day out. It’s now also quite relaxing as we’re walking on the flat and from what I can see up ahead there appears to be very little climbing left to do. Phew! Thankfully, the rain has also stopped.

We finish what’s left of our picnic behind yet another wall a little later in the walk and then set off for what appears to be the last few kilometres of our trek. Along the way we stop again to track the progress of a couple of kestrels as they hunt for some dinner. And there’s yet more time spent admiring the view. I’ve seen some beautiful places across the world and this place gives them a run for their money for sure. Certainly, someone more intelligent than me might well be quoting something like Wuthering Heights at this point. And yes, I know this isn’t where it was set.

The last part of our moorland walk sees us heading rapidly downhill and it’s more than a little bit scary. While not quite sheer, there’s a very steep drop off to our left and we’re walking down a very narrow path. While one careless step won’t see us fall to our death it will see us take quite a spectacular and painful tumble. However, we handle it like mountain goats and in fact the only time that anyone takes a tumble is when, as we’re almost at the bottom of the hill and it’s flattening out, my daughter decides dancing is the order of the day and immediately falls flat on her face. But with nothing damaged there’s time for a quick cuddle to comfort her a bit before we turn left and head back from whence we came on a much more familiar tarmac surface.

By the time we reach the visitor centre it’s late afternoon and we’ve walked for about 6.5km. Everyone is tired now, but there’s very little complaining. This fresh air is clearly having a positive effect on my kids! We decide that a pub tea is in order so it’s back in the car and off to the town of Castleton for some food. As a modern family – and by definition one who are incapable of making any decision without consulting a cornucopia of reviews – we sit in the car reading through Trip Advisor to find a likely pub. Oh, the spontaneity!

We settle on The George and I must admit I’m more than a bit delighted to find out that they seem to specialise in sausages! I plump for pork and tomato sausages and home-made chips and we take a table by an open fire. The kids have enormous pizzas, which they inevitably won’t finish so I know I’m in for a filling tea as ‘The Dad Handbook’ states that it’s my job to finish any leftover food so as not to bring shame upon my family. Something like that anyway. Whatever it is, it’s definitely a perk of the job.

Our food is very good and by the time we’re finished everyone is ready to head home. We relax for a little while longer and then stroll back through the town and into the car. I brace myself for more rally driving on the narrow local roads and then we’re off!

The Peaks and the Derwent Valley has given us a fantastic day out. A brilliant, but quite strenuous hike, featuring dramatic scenery, quite staggering natural beauty and quite a bit of height. If you get the chance, I’d thoroughly recommend it.

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