After 3 months of walking up hills it was time to tackle a mountain, granted a very small one but a mountain none the less. We had climbed Haystacks and Fleetwith Pike the previous day and with my poor eating habits I was seriously lacking in energy.
It took ages to get there from our chosen wild camp spot, walking back the country mile then going the wrong way, eventually we arrived at Wasdale Head.
The walk pretty much started with up and continued up. I felt truly awful; all the energy was drained from my body I honestly thought I was going to collapse, this in turn just made me awful about myself too, I’m so bad at this who am I kidding thinking I could one day climb any sizeable mountain. Every step got harder and harder I just wanted to cry.
My friend made me drink a lot of water and this seemed to help. So I continued upwards and after a lot of effort and many sit downs got to the top.
I’ve got to be honest I have no recollection of feeling good or any sense of achievement at all when we got to the top, I just felt like a tired failure who just holds everyone else up and spoils things. It just made me realise all the things that I wasn’t and could probably never be.
The way down was a new challenge, down to Mickledore and then down the scree. This was my first experience of scree and it really wasn’t fun, probably due to the fact I was feeling so bad about myself to start with. I was scared I would fall and just keep going or that I would somehow be swallowed by the mountain. We eventually arrived back at the main path and then back to the bottom of the hill.
Definitely not my best day ever, but at least I climbed a mountain and I didn’t give up.