A Walk In The Park.

I don’t like the gym. Whenever I go there I see this middle-aged woman in the mirror, dressed in some weird get –up with a reddish sweaty face. I think I’ve got body dismorphia or something.

I much prefer walking and our lecturer has set us a task- ‘what do you understand by the term psychogeography- why does walking help writing?’

Well I haven’t come across that one in the Daily Mail. I read it because I like the pictures but my favourite bits are the Hypoc ...Health Pages. I cut them out and store them in a file. I really am quite an expert now. When my friend N. complained of dizziness when getting up I wrote down my diagnosis on a piece of paper – labyrinthitis, and told her- tell our doctor I think you have that. She did! I was thrilled!

When we came back from our cruise this summer I told my husband ,‘I think there’s something wrong with me, I still feel as if I’m on the boat, a weird feeling of not being quite stable.’

’Really, how unusual,’ he replied, raising a weary eyebrow. So I googled my symptoms and eventually came up with this syndrome which is apparently quite uncommon:-‘Land sickness', or ‘mal de débarquement’.
I dashed off a letter to the Daily Mail, under the pretence that one of their journalists might be interested in it but really hoping they would give me the job.

Needless to say, I heard nothing back. I’ve written them so many letters, even once sent a picture of myself at the age of four in my Welsh hat to accompany a short feature on the ‘Welsh Not’. I can just hear their computer filter groan. ‘Oh no, not her again,’ as they dump me in spam.

Walking is such a healthy activity.

Seeing all that greenery makes my heart soar, and, as I inhale the life- affirming negative ions and increase the flow of oxygen to my brain, I relish the biochemical reactions that increase the level of the mood- enhancing hormone serotonin residing in my pineal gland. I sate my biological need to connect with nature and, breathing in the sweet fresh air and listening to the singing of the birds, I think of mountains, waterfalls and beaches. This calming boost in my daytime energy alleviates depression, stress and results in higher alertness, decreased drowsiness and more mental energy. At the same time the sunlight increases my vitamin D levels, of which most people in this country are deficient, thus offering protection from such conditions as rickets, osteoporosis, multiple sclerosis and possible diabetes. So there, Daily Mail!

In short, walking helps me think of things to write.

I have a regular route, about four miles from my house and back, along leafy country lanes and fields. It includes a comfort stop at the church. My usual sulky expression can sometimes crack into manic laughter as I think of something funny that’s happened. I am often spotted by friends ,who alarmed at my demeanour and apparent loneliness, ask ‘Are you Ok and why do you go into the graveyard’. 

I explain that I sit on a bench in the graveyard for a rest until my legs stop twitching and then I walk, quite happily, back. No, my husband is not going to leave me, neither myself nor my children have a terminal disease that I’m keeping secret, so thank you for your concern but there’s really no need to contact the Samaritans.

 

I’m scared of cows and with good reason.

Growing up in Wales I once met a bull pawing the ground on the road I was walking. One local farmer was badly gored by a bull and eventually died of his injuries. 

What? There’s the same species aren’t’ they? Of course I know the one from de udder – what do ’you think I am, stupid?

I once got in stuck in a field here. The exit gate was blocked by a herd of menacing cows. Hearing the sound of a lawnmower from a house at the edge of the field I peered over the hedge and asked the man ‘Is there another way out of this field – don’t want to go near the gate,’cos of the herd.’ ‘But they’re only cows!’ ‘Yes I know, but I don’t like them’.

He pointed at the tiny gap in the nearby hedge and stared as I crawled though on all fours emerging the other side covered in mud, brambles and sporting an even wilder hairdo than before.

Look, I’ve already told you, no need to call the Samaritans. Luckily, nobody spotted me on the way home.

What was that Kierkegaard said? Oh yes-

"Above all, do not lose your desire to walk: every day I walk myself into a state of well-being and walk away from every illness; I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it... if one just keeps on walking, everything will be all right".

I often hum or sing to myself when walking, swaying to the music and tapping out the rhythm in my feet and head......

Mein Vater war ein Wandersmann,

Valderi, valdera, valderi,

valdera ha ha ha ha ha

 These boots are made for walking....

Thinkin' of things, like a walk in the park, things...........Dum de dum de dum.