Last night I attended the local branch of the Clandestine Cake Club, where the aim is basically to eat and talk cakes all night. Cake is a bit of a passion of mine, so I did enjoy the evening, although I may have eaten a tad too much, even thought I didn’t try all the delicious varieties on offer. So this afternoon I went for a brisk calorie-burning walk along a mostly level stretch of coast path to Baggy Point. It is an ideal route for striding out, as the surface is good, but taking photos did slow me down a bit…
I enjoyed the brisk breeze and the sound of the waves on the rocks, and the un-photographable glimmer of the weak sunshine on the water. It felt good to be out, especially after the previous two days of stormy weather.
At the point, I found a sheltered spot and sat for a while watching the gulls soaring in the wind. Then I set off up the slope to the clifftop to take the ‘high road’ home. As I struggled to the top of the path, I was gasping for breath, my heart hammering in my chest, and my legs felt like jelly. I felt so disappointed with myself, as I had really been hoping that I was getting fitter, and wouldn’t feel quite so pathetic when dealing with the Devon slopes.
Then I glanced back down to where I had sat, and realised that, a mere two months ago, I would have never managed the whole climb in one go, and would have had to stop for breath much earlier. So I am getting fitter, but that feeling of utter exhaustion is going to keep happening if I push myself, just after even greater exertions. Of course logically that makes sense, but it came as a bit of an epiphany.
Feeling happier, I was able to relax and enjoy the views of the famous surfing beach at Croyde, and also enjoy the downhill route back to the car.
(I may have had another slice of cake when I got home….more walking needed tomorrow???)