diet

A Tale Of Two Daughters

My intensive 57 hour HSE care package has now kicked in fully and it’s life-changing.  In just two days I’ve managed to visit my own GP for long overdue blood tests, arrange a vet visit for #GoogleDog who’s hips seem sore, I’ve been on the Elaine Show on Virgin TV, I’ve had my first post pandemic haircut, had a trip to the sea to swim, walked the dog, gone to my local shop to get clothes pegs, and had breakfast sitting outside a cafe in town with a friend.

 

This works.  This is how caring should be.  I’ve had two busy, lively days, where I’ve looked after myself, my health, my career, my sport, my dog, my friends…… and still looked after my lovely #Dad(96) who’s also loving life, at home in his own house, with a happy daughter, who’s eyes smile instead of drooping with exhaustion and stress.

Every carer deserves this.  A care package like this is still a cheaper option than having someone in a hospital or institution – and more importantly it’s a better option, when it’s possible.  And I understand it’s not always possible.  But so many people want to look after their loved ones at home, but they’re terrified away or abandoned to their fate and left to sink below the waves of stress and sorrow and exhaustion.

We’ve got to turn that around.  There’s so much joy and happiness in being a carer, once you have a support system.  Caring shouldn’t mean sacrificing your life, your love, your career, your health and your dreams.  Carers should be encouraged, not exploited.  Carers need to be heard.  The abandonment of carers during the pandemic is a wound that will take a long time to heal.  But it’s given carers a voice.  We were too tired and busy to shout before, but we’ve learned how to speak up.  We’ve learned that we have to speak up if anything is to change.  And a lot has to change.

A carer without support is a carer in permanent lockdown

Today I’m leaving the house for Dad’s medications, while the lovely Yvette minds him at home.  I’m bringing GoogleDog for a walk on the way home. Before I leave, I’ve had breakfast. This is the first time in two years that I’ve enjoyed such a normal start to a day.  This is bliss.  This is luxury. This is heaven.

later, I can have fun with my Dad.  Relaxed and happy, with energy to play with him and keep him stimulated and active.

I can be my Dad’s daughter again, and he can be my Dad.

*Today my Weight Warrior food diary sees its first entry as I try to get healthy again.

 

FRIDAY:

BREAKFAST: Apple, Grapes, 30g cheddar, coffee & skimmed milk

LUNCH: Chicken and baked beans and new potatoes

DINNER: (Packed lunch) homemade Chicken Yuk Sung with lettuce leaves

Oops: got home from Newstalk around 1am and cooked up black pudding and fried up new potatoes  🙄 (at least it wasn’t a takeaway)

SATURDAY:

BREAKFAST: black pudding and fried new potatoes. (It was just so good) 🤦‍♀️

 

#Couch2Christmas Craic and Cracks

couch#Couch2Christmas Craic and Cracks

A twisted lumbar facet joint and an iliolumber ligament strain is not actually as bad as it sounds, but it does mean several days’ inactivity and quite a lot of sharp breathing when sitting and standing. Apparently one of the spiky little bones in my lower back snagged behind Continue reading

So How Are The Resolutions Going?

Tv3 head flip cropI love my body.  Not in a vain, narcissistic way – but with amazement at the body’s ability to cope with everything life throws at it, and just keep on giving. This moment of introspection doesn’t follow any mad achievement or record-breaking feat. It follows a trip to the physio and the news that I’ve strained my Continue reading

Sasta Siestas at the Sasta Bootcamp

Oops. 3lb UP after my foray into the world of pork scratchings & cider with big bro in London. Good job I’ve got my #SastaBootcamp next week when I’ll be testing Irish entrepreneur Fiona Egan’s latest brilliant idea for getting us all fit and healthy.

I’ll be tucked away for a whole week, with the Sasta training pods, body sculpting, cycling, pool sessions, ball work, jogging, dance, massage, reflexology, the Sasta low Gi diet and the ‘Sasta Siesta’.

It’s residential, with healthy meals provided, and no social media or TV after 8 – to encourage better sleep…. although that’s my own self-enforced ban, to help me focus.

I’m heading down on Sunday and I will let you know how I get on. I can promise you faithfully I will definitely #Lose1LbByFriday .

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Final Countdown to Elbrus…

Have you ever wondered “What have I got myself into?”

elbrus 2I’m pretty much in the ‘lost and found’ category at the moment.  When I decided to climb one of the Seven Summits, I was fighting fit and looking forward to training hard for six-months of mountain prep. The year started well, heading off to practice walking on snow and ice in Scotland in January, heading to Norway in February to play in the snow and check out my gear in some really freezing temperatures. I had a year-planner and Excel chart, all colour-coded, with gym, yoga, swimming, cycling, mountains… it was all going brilliantly and then I fell.

I cut my leg badly when I slipped on a rock, out running on Spinc in Wicklow. I got it stitched and thought I’d be back in a flash, but people wiser than me were proved right when I couldn’t really use my knee for the next 6 weeks. Even then it was a full two months before I could train properly.

In the meantime I was starting my own business which was great, but stressful and strangely lonely, because I am used to working in a big office environment and now I am based at home.  They don’t tell you about that in ‘entrepreneur school!’  I was sitting at home; bored, sore, stressed and a bit scared – with a fridge sitting behind me and I’m sorry to say that I put on a couple of stone in as much time as it takes to pick up a sandwich! So with six weeks to go, I had to face loss of fitness coupled with carrying more weight.

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I hope I’ve done enough.  I kept practising my yoga while sitting on a chair and working out in the gym with my leg isolated from the routines, and I finally got back into the sea to start swimming again. I have worked really hard in the last month, balancing training against protecting my injured knee and losing weight. I also got a huge amount of help and advice from friends, colleagues and online through Facebook and Twitter. Not to mention Tony Nation from Pat Falvey Irish & Worldwide Adventures – who literally ‘walked the legs off me’ over the gorgeous Galtee Mountains in the last few weeks.

I’ve lost a stone, but I’m still overweight for my height. Training after an injury was a difficult dilemma to find myself in, with a whole range of advice, which came down to the same thing: “be patient and don’t overdo it”. It was deeply frustrating, and again, I hope I’ve done enough. I just do not know if there is enough in the tank to get me up that cold, icy, incline that will bring me to the top of Europe.  I’ve lost fitness, my size 14 shape, and a bit of confidence.  I’ve found friends, knowledge, insight, technique, and a new business.

The countdown is almost over.  We fly from Dublin to London on Thursday, then fly  to Moscow – and the big adventure kicks off on July 11th.  I’ll be blogging whenever I have signal and power and I have a friend who has agreed to pass on messages if I don’t get to update Facebook or Twitter for a few days.  I’ll report in full by July 25th.

This is the last time I am going to be thinking about fears or failure.  Like Pandora’s box, I know I need to put doubt back under cover and lock down the lid.  I am as good as I can be and that’s as good as it gets.  I am off to climb Elbrus….  x

Galloping Across the Galtees

IMG_3704Climbing The ‘Big Hill’

Swinging off the M8, we park ‘Blondie’ my dad’s car on the ‘Black Road’ near the village of Skeheenarinky. This is the starting point for the normal route up Galtymore. In Irish, Cnoc Mor a nGaibhlte is the appropriately named ‘Big Hill of the Galtys’. This is Ireland’s 14th highest peak, the tallest inland mountain in Ireland and the only inland peak to exceed 3,000ft (919m).

Slamming the car door and grabbing my kit and boots, I turn my back on Galtymore and jumping into my climbing buddy Tony Nation’s car, we drive away in the opposite direction. My heart is a missing a few beats as I wonder just how tough this day is going to be. We are not heading up the Black Road to climb Galtymore, instead we’re going to climb 4 other mountains first, hiking our way around in a sweeping crescent, to finish on the ‘big hill’ and reclaim our 1st car. woodland1

Dreamtime meets Denial

Tony, my long-time friend and climbing guide is chuckling a little as we drive towards a glen nestled beneath Temple Hill. As we leave his car and start to boot up, tie on gaiters and check our packs, he comments again that we have a long, day ahead.  I don’t really need the reminder. I’ve climbed Galtymore several times before. It’s not difficult, but it’s steep and a good hike. I can see the length of the ridge ahead of us, and I can hardly comprehend that we will be covering all that ground on foot before the day is out. I remind myself that biting off too large a chunkCottage is the easiest way for my mind to give up. So I break it down and put the knowledge of what lies ahead on hold. Being in denial can have its advantages!

On our approach to Temple Hill, we drop down through a small patch of woodland, into a lush, long-grassed pasture. Within minutes of leaving the road, I’m walking through a hidden copse, stepping into a snapshot of lives gone before.  A stone-wall cottage, long abandoned, and sunken deep into the earth, buried in memories and pine needles. I stand in the sunken portal where the doorway once welcomed guests and I feel like a giant, dwarfed beside the disappearing house. The light is green and still, the air sharp with pine and moss, and in the distance the crystal noise of falling water. Here stories are made, and written. I want to return with a pad and pen and dream about who lived here and how their lives played out.

Signing the Visitor’s Log Tony

We take a few pictures and wander downhill to meet a small river that marks a start to the climb up Temple Hill. The climb ahead is grassy but steep, to reach 785m. We start off slowly, ‘expedition pace’ comments Tony as we start to ascend.  It’s a truly beautiful day and I know I’m blessed, imagining how different this would be in the mist and rain.  The views are already gorgeous and climbing here is no penance, every step takes me higher and shows me better views. I feel alive and strong and happy and grateful to be out on the hill.

We topped out and then followed a gentle moorland sweep towards a stony area and the summit cairn and trig pillar. Sheltering at the cairn, Tony pointed out something I’ve never seen before on an Irish Hill.  From the rocks, he pulled out a ‘visitors’ book and pen, wrapped carefully in plastic, inviting hikers to leave a note and date their climb. I wrote down my thoughts and returned the book to Tony who careful replaced it for the next walkers to sign.

A Bit of Ducking and Diving

I got here

We pushed down into the saddle and turned our sights on our next target, Lyracappul. Careful not to lose too much ground we ducked the dive-bombing Swifts, who were clearly unimpressed to have their silence disturbed. They puzzled me a little, I don’t know a lot about them, but I know they spend much of their life in the air and don’t like nesting on the ground, so where are they basing themselves? In the cairns?

We began to climb again, and Tony reminded me about taking small steps and keeping my centre of gravity as neutral as possible. I’m training for climbing Elbrus with Irish adventurer, Pat Falvey, later this year; and these steep grassy slopes are ideal for mimicking the gradient of the long climb up the twin-peaked volcanic domes in Russia. I imagine climbing through the heather also gives me an idea of how it will feel to climb for hours, lifting my feet to push through several feet of snow.view galtymore

We summit Lyracappul and take a breather at another stone cairn, higher than Temple Hill, at 825m. We’re sitting in the sun, munching on energy bars, when another party of climbers arrive. There was conversation, craic, and discussion about expeditions and foreign trips, before we all said our goodbyes and pushed off in different directions, leaving the Swifts behind.

We head along the ridge, dropping down and up between Carraig na Binne 822m and Slieve Chois na Binne 766m.  The views of the valley below are stunning and we pick up the 4km Galty Wall as we head up again towards ‘The Big Hill of the Galtys’ for our final ascent to 919m.  I know I’m blessed with these views and I drink in the green sloping valley on our right; while soaking in the corry lakes and cliffs on our left, pondering on the potential danger of stumbling around up here in the mist. You could easily get yourself into difficulty if you strayed too close to some of those sharp edges.view of galtymore

Meeting a Man on a Mission

It is a long walk, but it is very beautiful and I slug into the final stretch, tired but confident. I know we are nearly at the final summit and I’m familiar with the long trek ahead down the Black Road; and every step is worth it. I want everyone to see what I see, but no picture or photograph can recreate this view, you just have to get your boots on and come and discover it for yourself.  360 degrees, with mountains and counties in all directions; on this clear day it is simply stunning. Tony points out the Glen of Aherlow to the north, the Knockmealdowns to the south, and he claims the faint blue line in the distance is my beloved Kerry Reeks.

With a burst of energy, I gallop up the final few steps to the iron cross that marks the summit of Galtymore. We are not alone. I meet a fellow Dub who has just finished his own personal pilgrimage to climb the highest peak in every county. He did it for galtymore crosshimself, to get fit, to stop getting old and just for the sheer hell of it.  He’s here eating a sandwich, enjoying a lonely celebration and totally at peace with himself and his world. We chat for ages and wish him well before we all prepare to say goodbye to our day’s final challenge.

The county boundary for Limerick and Tipperary runs across this summit.  I’m not exactly sure where the line is – but I fancifully step astride where I imagine it might be.  I am here, standing on the border, with one foot on each of the highest points in two counties. It’s enough for one day.  I take a final sweep around at the view, before following Tony down the ‘big hill’ to the Black Road and home to Dublin. (7.5hrs)

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Expedition Training for #Elbrus14

Expedition Wrap1Soles Were Roving All Over Wicklow

On Saturday I got to join the Roving Soles Hill Walking Club for part of their Glenmalure Challenge. I got to finish 6 summits and around 24k in 7hrs –  they went on to complete 10 summits and 33k.  We started from the Glenmalure Lodge, Drumgoff and headed south on the Wicklow Way, taking a forest road for our assent of Carrawaystick Mountain to Corrigasleggaun, to the Saddle of Lugcoolmeen, and up to the summit of Lugnaquilla, Leinster’s highest peak at 931 metres.  We descended via Cannow Mountain to Camenabolologue, and I cut out at Table Track for Glenmalure, as the group continued on their way.  Thanks to everyone for such a warm welcome on the hill, especially with me hobbling along with my knee braces and sticks.  Extremely lovely group… and the bubbles were a bonus!

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Sunday’s Rest n’Recovery with a Dip in Cork and a Plunge in Kerry

From Wicklow, I drove to Cork city, catching dinner with a friend before heading on to Youghal where I camped near the sea, ahead of an early 6am start for the DipInTheNip.  Close to 200 people joined on a beach near the town to drop their kit and run for the waves, in aid of cancer charities.  Old radio buddy PJ Coogan from Cork 96FM led the charge. After a breakfast roll on the beach, I headed for Kerry, pitched my tent in view of the mountains, met briefly with friends, took a two hour stroll in Tomies Wood and finished off a perfect rest-and-recovery day with a plunge into the beautiful ice-cold O’Sullivan’s Cascade, a stunning series of waterfalls and grade 5 kayak route plunging down through the mountains to the lakes of Killarney. Always a magical place for me.

Tony Nation Kept Me Safe from the Rhododendrons

On to the Galtees on Monday, for a tough 8.5hr training hike over 5 mountains with Tony Nation, in preparation for my challenge to climb Elbrus in Russia next month with Pat Falvey’s Irish and Worldwide Adventures. Tony had warned me in advance that today would be tough and he certainly delivered. It was an arduous route, but so incredibly beautiful that it was hard to feel anything other than joy to be out on the hill. We made our way up on to the mountain with a tough climb onto Temple Hill, and climbed up and down around the horseshoe across Ladhar an Chapaill, Carraig na Binne, and Sliabh Chois na Binne, over to Galtymore and exiting down the BlackRoad. Later we heard on the news that a couple of climbers had been rescued after getting caught in a Rhododendron forest, not too far away on the Knockmealdown Mountains. It was a cautionary tale, as I’d been admiring the purple flowered shrubs all day, but Tony had been warning me about their rampant, vigorous growth across the mountains.

Lambay wrap

A Misty-Eyed Surprise on A Magical Island

Tuesday brought another adventure, when myself and a friend provided kayak-cover for a group of swimmers who were making a crossing from Malahide to Lambay Island, as part of a top-secret art project. We had kind permission to land briefly on the island, which is a nature reserve, and it was a wonderful privilege to have just a fleeting glance at this wonderful, magical place.  It was a beautiful day as we headed off into a clear, calm sea, and the crossing was delightfully uneventful until moments before we reached the island. A sea-mist sprung up in seconds, shrouding our landing point in mist.  Our approach was marked by dozens of curious seals who heralded our arrival and followed us in to the star-fish spangled beach.  We stayed just moments before slipping back into the sea and leaving the peaceful island to it’s misty mystery. A magical experience to add to my list of special memories of Ireland.

A good weekend of training, celebrating friendship and being glad to be alive. Reality returns when I visit the physio tomorrow and get some advice on my injured knee.  The Elbrus Clock continues to tick.

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