A Summary: 90 Days of Walking In All Weathers

I did it!! Today was the final day in my 90 day challenge to walk every day, in all weathers.  I have covered hills, flatland, sandy beaches, rocky beaches, parks, lochs, cities, towns, shops, and ruins.  I've walked in snow, ice, rain, sleet, blizzards, slush, wind, gale force winds, sunshine, and under dull grey skies.  Early morning, late at night.  By myself, with a friend, with my sister, with a group.  Some only ten minutes or so, others four or five hours long.  Some days I barely made it outside and back for a short walk, others I clambered up hill and dale and stood proudly atop a mountain.  Sometimes I attempted a mountain or hill and couldn't make it to the top.  I've been too cold, too warm, and many times just right.  My wellies have never let me down, and neither has my trusty iphone.  There were a few days I just couldn't go out - being sick or unwell or worried I'd get pneumonia again - but those were very few, and were the exceptions that proved the rule.

If I've learned anything these 90 days, it's this:

1.  You truly can walk in any kind of weather. It's a matter of having the right clothes, and being bound and determined not to let the weather win.

2.  It's not about hitting a certain target or length or a certain weight, even.  It's about consistency.

3.  The small things matter.  The shortest of walks were sometimes all that kept me going - because at least I was doing something.  Skipping a day here or a day there would have ended up in not achieving at all.

4.  My favourite walk of the entire 90 days was the day I walked Helensburgh in driving, fierce, cold, pounding, freezing rain.  The sea was angry and hurling itself at the sea wall and at me, and I was almost the only person out walking.  That day I truly fought the elements, and I still made it.

5.  You don't have to have a reason for walking (a dog, preparing for a marathon, a destination).  It truly is its own reward.

6.  Scotland is the most beautiful country on earth.  And it is worth every second of any horrible weather I've ever had to go through.

I'm taking a friend's very good suggestions and rewarding myself for the achievement with fuzzy socks, a hot stone massage at a beauty clinic in Glasgow (thanks to a 70% discount through LivingSocial), and some new camera equipment.  (Not sure of what yet, will keep you posted.)

I'll also be starting a new 90 day challenge after a 5-day breather.  

May you all be, not impressed, but inspired to walk your own way.

Walk on!

(P.S. I enjoyed this so much I started a new walking blog at www.teainallweathers.blogspot.com.  Join me there for a new kind of tea every day!)

Day 90: The Summit

Today was the last day of my 90 day challenge, so I felt that just a little walk around the block wasn't good enough to celebrate the final stride.  So, Pin and I set off for a walk near Callander, which appeared to have everything I wanted:  a new walk, one I'd never taken before; woods and streams as well as hills and views; varied countryside; greenery; and most of all is within my beloved Scotland!

We had all of this and more.  The walk is called Callander Crag, and winds its way up hill...and up hill, and up hill, and up hill....before it rises to a summit and then goes down dale as well.  I loved every minute of it, even the ones where I was struggling to climb the stone steps to the final summit, or the bit at the end where we stopped at a bench and I didn't want to get up again.  I know I live in Scotland, but I've rarely seen woods so green.  Everything was green, and so many different varieties of it!  Spring green, mossy green, pine green, watercress green, emerald green, and hundreds of other versions I never had imagined before.  Every tree was covered with moss, or little tiny ferns. 

It had rained all morning, so a local told us, and yet we managed to arrive when the rain was off and yet there were still water droplets hanging off every (mossy green) branch.  Every once in a while the sun would break out and shine through the trees, lighting up the covered green and also the burnished copper colour of the fallen leaves.  We passed only two people, and the rest of the two hour walk we had all to ourselves.  It was so quiet, and yet filled with the sounds that only the woods can make.  We saw deer, and a little frog (Pin saw several frogs), and a tree that looked either like an elephant or an octopus, a hawk, and countless other birds that we could hear even if we couldn't see them. 

We climbed all the way up to the Queen's Jubilee Summit, and stood proudly looking out over the vista of Callander, and then beyond to Stirling and, supposably, the Wallace Monument (although with the mist and the clouds we weren't really sure what direction we should be looking in order to find it).  Off to our right we could see Loch Venacher, and Ben Ledi and Ben Lomond.  Well, perhaps we couldn't quite see that far, but we like to think we could. 

It was definitely a proud moment for me.  After being diagnosed with chronic fatigue/M.E. about seven years ago, my ability to exercise as I used to has seen a significant change.  But if I've learned anything it's that it is not about competing with what others can do, or (what is much more likely for me) to compete with myself, the self that I used to be, the running I used to do, the energy I used to have.  I've learned that there is great accomplishment in achieving something that seems small, but changes my whole perspective on what I can and can't do in my life.  It's not about setting my mind to anything and achieving it; I'm not so foolish as that.  Rather, it's about setting goals and challenges that are just that slight bit harder, that bit extra beyond what I'm currently doing, and just pressing on and pressing on and taking joy in the journey, not just at the summit at the top. 

We did some celebrating at the top, taking photos, and me sounding my barbaric 'YAWP!' over the rooftops of the world.  (See 'Dead Poet's Society', and the writings of Walt Whitman.)  Pin hugged the jubilee cairn in her joy.  "O frabjous day! Calloo!  Callay! She chortled in her joy."  (roughly stolen from The Jabberwocky poem) 

Then it was a winding, slippery slope all the way down, in some ways more difficult than the way up.  Pin and I both nearly fell two or three times, which gave Pin great glee, at least.   By the time we reached the last little uphill slope towards the car park, I felt like I couldn't go another step - but that's the beauty of what I've learned in 90 days. You can always make it to the final step, whatever that is.

We celebrated with steak pie and chips at the Tudor for dinner, and now it's once again home for jammies and hot tea and the comfort of knowing that we didn't let the day - or the weather - prevent us.  We walked on.

Walk on!

Walk length:  2 hours

Day 89: Is Walking Its Own Reward?

Only two days left of my 90 day challenge!  It's so exciting!!  I'm really looking forward to actually completing this challenge - it really does help in accomplishing other goals in my life, knowing that I have pressed on through snow and blizzards and wind and rain and cold and a lot more in order to achieve this.

Just before I finish, though, I'm taking suggestions as to what reward (if any) I should give myself once I hit the 90 day mark!  Any thoughts are welcome, although the better you know me the more apt your reward suggestions will probably be...!

Today's walk was, typically, one I didn't really feel like taking.  The house is warm.  It wasn't raining, but it was cold, and I was quite tired simply because it's a Monday.  The sky darkened to a cobalt blue, almost black, as we walked on...I was amazed by the beauty of the little moon sliver, but when I tried to capture it with my iphone, it appeared as a small white dot between two brilliant yellow street lights.  Funny how those same street lights would be as nothing if they got anywhere near that incredible light source, the moon.  My sister and I intended a half hour walk but barely made it...sometimes I wonder what in the world good this challenge has done me if I'm worn out within the first 10 minutes, but that kind of thinking has only gotten me less exercise and less energy and less happiness, so I'm going to press on regardless.
 
I'm also planning on continuing with another 90 day challenge once this one is done...more to come tomorrow!

Walk length:  20 minutes

Day 88: A Sabbath Manifesto

This week a friend of mine directed me to a website about something called the Sabbath Manifesto - a National Day of Unplugging, it was called.  Whilst I'm not Jewish, and don't celebrate the Sabbath on a sunset-to-sunset basis, I feel very strongly about our need for rest and about God's command to us as Christians that we must rest.  My resting is done on the Sunday, the Lord's Day, but I've noticed lately that I do have a habit of letting technology and other things sneak into my day of rest and make it less restful.

The Sabbath Manifesto lists 10 excellent principles.  My only addition would be, not number 11, but number 1, which is to ensure meditation on God and on His Word. Finding silence (number 9) is excellent, because therein we do often find God, but sometimes we just find our own thoughts.  So, I will add that to mine. 

At any rate, I'm going to attempt it on this Lord's Day.  Starting tonight (I'm rushing this blog post to be done by the time it's dark), I'm turning off the computer and even turning off my mobile phone!!  I have no idea how I will manage, but I'm greatly looking forward to it. Pin and I are going to make a meal, light candles, eat bread (tiger bread!), drink wine, avoid technology, and most of all, my favourite of the ten items, find silence.

May you have a beautiful day of rest tomorrow.

Day 87: A March In March

This afternoon I walked out to visit one of the housebound members of our church.  On my way there, I heard what seemed like a lot of shouting and hollering, like a group of guys who just got out of the pub and were celebrating a game.  As I got closer, though, it was confusing as to what kind of march this was.  There was a huge crowd of them, spilling out into the street, and just as I came up near it a policeman went running past at top speed.  I saw six or seven policemen restraining the men, trying to herd them into a group so that all the cars piling up on the road (onto which the group had spilled out) could carry on.  The odd thing was, they didn't seem angry, but they seemed like they could become angry soon if things went on.  They were singing songs and chanting loudly, but none of them were wearing football colours.  It was almost like an impromptu Orange march, but it's only the 5th of March!  Very odd. 

I went in to visit Georgi and told her all about it, and she laughed.  "Daft!" she said, pointing to her temple and repeating this several times.  "They're daft!"  After I smiled and nodded she added, "stupid!" just in case I wasn't quite sure, which  made me laugh.  Finally she added "Daft in the heed!" so I think I got the idea!  After we had talked for a while, the group of men had clearly made their way in a circle round the town, because out Georgi's other window you could see them marching past, herded carefully by several policemen.  I pointed them out and the two of us laughed, and she insisted again that they were indeed daft.

I had brought flowers for her - three carnations that were so beautiful I just had to share them!  She loved them - inhaled their fragrance, felt the petals, and set them right next to her so she could enjoy them.  We talked about what I was up to and what was happening in the church, and how  my sister is visiting, and how we are going to Amsterdam at the end of the month.  "I'm going to come with you!" she said, and then sighed. "I wish I could go," she added.  It really reminded me that as much as I'm used to her being an older woman who can't really get out of her chair, she was once a young woman who loved to travel and go to the church and be involved in all different things outside.  I told her about the new building we had for the church in Glasgow and she said she wished she could go to that too - that she and her sister "used to go to all those things".  It made me very thankful for my sister who is here now, with whom I can go to all those things.  We talked about heaven, and eternity, and Christ dying and being raised from the dead, and how His resurrection makes it possible for us to have a resurrection, too, and one day a new body that never gets tired or old.  Now that's beautiful.

Afterwards Pin and I walked around Bothwell Castle and noticed many little indicators of a coming spring! It's exciting!

Walk length:  40 minutes

Day 86: A Strange Sort Of Fogginess

Tonight I didn't make it out for my walk until around 11pm.  I had been going all day with plenty on, but when I had been out driving around, I noticed that the whole town looked a bit...dusty.  Like someone had taken a dry paint brush with some white or grey on it and brushed it over the houses, the sky, the buildings, and made everything else.  It wasn't fog, because fog you can see, and it floats around like little wisps of cloud.  It wasn't mist, because mist leaves water droplets all over the windscreen of the car, your hat, your hair, even your eyelashes.  It was almost like smog, actually.  I haven't seen smog in years.  I was born in California, and any time I go back to Los Angeles I'm amazed by smog - I'm not sure where that word comes from, but 'smut' or 'smoke' and 'fog' maybe go together there.  It's just kind of a dirtiness all over everything.  At any rate, I wondered at it a bit.

When I finally went out for my walk late at night, just round the nearby area, it had become more like an actual fog, because it made stars out of the street lights and covered things a bit more.  I had a few things on my mind so it was a walk in which I thought everything out and was pretty surprised to find myself back at the flat within 10 or 15 minutes...it seemed as though a few seconds only had gone by. 

Walk length:  10 minutes

Day 85: Strathclyde Park

Tonight Pin and I took a drive over to Strathclyde Park, where we walked round about half of the loch.  We got there just after 5, and it was pleasant to watch the light slowly, so slowly fading.  When we got there the light was lifting the colours of the trees on the far side, and a very tiny mini-sunset was happening to our left.  I pointed it out to Pin, who is used to the entire sky being lit up and on fire for a typical Arizona sunset, so she laughed a little at our small cloud that shone red and pink and gold.  But we both enjoyed the stillness of the water, the swans coming over to greet us and ask for food, the little duck that went skimming past all the swans as though to prove his speed and worth.  (You could almost hear him squealing with glee as he went zooming past.) 

It was cold - colder than we realised, and I wondered that I hadn't brought a hat.  I think the fact that the sun is actually out, and the sky is clear, makes me forget that it is still March in Scotland.  I did have a warm coat with gloves in the pockets, so I did pretty well...but we passed a few people who didn't do quite so well, and were shivering in the early evening air. 

As we walked along, the light began to fade.  We stopped once, to stand and look out onto the loch, and I loved how the light faded from a dark blue to a lighter blue, then a cream colour, and a pinkish purple with a grey tinge...then past the trees it faded again on the surface of the water, so that if you weren't looking at the scene in a three-dimensional view (as in this photo here!), it was just fading from one to the other and back again, with a dark line in between.  It was beautiful.  The birds sailed majestically - and silently - across the sky, not even calling to each other as they went.  We passed a good number of other walkers, but we were fairly intent on our conversation and hardly noticed they were there. 

By the time we drove home, all this beautiful light had faded to darkness.  But tomorrow is another walking day!

Walk length: 45 minutes

Day 84: The Rebel Light

Tonight Pin and I took a quick dander over to Morrisons to get 'supplies'.  (ie, stuffs for chocolate chip cookie dough, ice cream, oh and a few boring things like broccoli and light bulbs.)  On the way I saw a house with a little welcome light that shone red, blue, yellow, and green.  I stopped because I've haven't seen one of those lately.  Most lights are just pale, retiring, "don't notice me" kind of lights that give a warm glow but ensure that your attention is directed entirely to the door, or the doorbell, or another aspect of the house.  This one, though small, shouts out for attention.  It's brightly coloured, cheerful, and even glows in a different way.  It's a rebel!  So, I snapped a photo of it, hoping that the house's inhabitants didn't come out scowling wondering why I was taking pictures of their house.  Little do they know that their rebel light is famous now!  All over the world!

In the spirit of this rebel fire I found a poem that seemed to speak directly to this small light.  Read on! Shine on, little light!  And all of you, walk on!

"The Rebel" - by Don Marquis

No doubt the ordered worlds speed on

  With purpose in their wings;

No doubt the ordered songs are sweet

  Each worthy angel sings;

And doubtless it is wise to heed

  The ordered words of Kings;

But how the heart leaps up to greet

  The headlong, rebel flight,

Whenas some reckless meteor

  Blazes across the night!

Some comet—Byron—Lucifer—

  Has dared to Be, and fight!

No doubt but it is safe to dwell

  Where ordered duties are;

No doubt the cherubs earn their wage

  Who wind each ticking star;

No doubt the system is quite right!—

  Sane, ordered, regular;

But how the rebel fires the soul

  Who dares the strong gods’ ire!

Each Byron!—Shelley!—Lucifer!—

  And all the outcast choir

That chant when some Prometheus

  Leaps up to steal Jove’s fire!

Day 83: Just Blue

Absolutely amazing.  28th of February, 83 days into my 90 day challenge which I started in the midst of a blizzarding snowstorm, and the sky is so blue you could fall into it.  Definitely the changeable blue which could turn into that snowstorm at any time (this is Scotland after all), but I just loved the way my window warms up the sunshine as it streams into my office, and landed on my arm and face as though I were somewhere tropical for a moment or two.  I had to get out in it (partly for the beautiful blue sky and partly because of my blog!), so off I went to the post office and various errands. 

Today I noticed a few different smells more than sights - on the way to the post office I distinctly smelled fish and chips (unsurprisingly), but as I passed the two I noticed they definitely had vinegar on them, as well.  It was very strong.  After I came out of the post office (about six days later) there was the distinct tang of a wood fire on the air. I stood and smelled it, being immediately transported to my parents' cabin, complete with fir trees and juniper pine and crackling wood fires and russian tea and book-reading by firelight and long walks and the noisy silence of the woods....and then with a snap someone swore and a car swerved and a girl laughed shrilly and I was right back in Airdrie again!

And then home, while the blue of the sky fades into a pale blue, then an almost-green, then a light orange, then a cream, then nothing.

Day 82: Which Prodigal Are You?

Another day of rest.  I pretty much spent the entire day listening to sermons and reading books and articles about the Story of the Prodigal Son.  What really struck me this time around was the elder brother. I really believe that parable is mislabeled.  It should be called the Story of the Two Prodigal Sons.  Everyone connects with the rebellion of the younger brother very quickly, because it is obvious and open.  But the rebellion of the elder brother is so subtle because he appears to have all the boxes ticked - and yet that's the whole problem.  When his younger brother comes home, is forgiven, and a party is thrown, the elder brother's response is anger, bitterness, accusations, and self-righteousness.  "All these years I have slaved for you," he tells his father.  His deepest problem is that he sees his father as a slave-driver, and whereas the younger brother asked out front, boldly, for the inheritance money, the elder brother decides to get it by trickery. He can't wait for his father to die, either...he just pretends to be the good guy and yet is only serving for the 'stuff' that he will get in the end.

It really struck me afresh, on this day of rest, that going to worship and prayer meeting and Bible classes and visiting housebound and attending events and spending time with the young people and all of these things are completely useless if they are done without the heart, without love.  God the Father is not one who requires a list of 'to-do' items before He loves us.  For those of us who are His children, who are following Him and serving Him, He loves already! His response to the elder brother is so gracious: "Son, you are always with me, and all that I have is yours."  He could have justifiably berated the elder brother, but he doesn't - because the father loves both his sons.  Forgiveness, and welcome, and a great big party, are open to both of them.

Interestingly enough the story leaves us hanging. No happy ending where the elder brother goes into the party and greets his younger brother with tears of reconciliation.  I kind of like that.  It leaves it open to be your story, my story.  Which brother are we?  And where will we go from here?  Either way - older or younger brother - God the Father shows great compassion and love, and our service to Him is out of love.  It is out of love that I do go to many of these events with the church...but they are not for the church.  They are for God, who is throwing a pretty amazing party for me and all His children one day!  Can't wait!

Here's the first sermon I watched on the elder brother - an excellent one.  Enjoy!


Religion and 'Older Brothers' - Luke 15 from Airdrie RPC on Vimeo.

Day 81: Drumpelier Park

The sun was shining cheerfully today!  Working from home with the warm sun streaming in through my window, I wished I could be out walking in it.  Fortunately Pin and I finished with enough time to spare before the sun went down (and it's going down later these days - past six while I'm writing this and just now getting dark! summer is coming!), so we leaped into Otis (who was raring to go) and zoomed off to nearby Drumpelier Park.

It had all the beauties we desired, and all the funny things you expect at a park.  We ooohed and ahhhhed at the sun sparkling off the waters, the swans and ducks gathering round to eat prohibited bread ("NO FEEDING THE BIRDS"), the bright green colour of the grass, the dark blue-grey of the waters with the wind making little rippling effects.  And we laughed at the guy who passed us, cycling, about five times whilst we only made it round twice (by the fifth time we were becoming best of friends); the little boy determinedly rolling up the legs of his trousers to wade in, and his mother just as determinedly rolling them back down; the little girl with a red hat and big eyes, staring around at everything in wonder; the couple arguing between themselves as they passed; and Pin's squeaky trainers that sounded like little ducks following us as we walked along.  She tried all kinds of things to get them to stop - walking faster, walking slower, walking on one foot, hopping left, hopping right, spinning around in circles, walking backwards, and finally leaping into a mud puddle in case water would assist.  I was expecting someone to smile and say how kind it was for me to take this clearly special person out for her daily walk. :)

We really enjoyed it.  It's such a pleasure to be out in the sunshine and the fresh air, not even noticing the weather so much as all the surroundings and the joy of walking and talking and covering deep things and unimportant things alike.  I do love my sister.  It's one of the things I miss so much by  having moved here to Scotland from America - just the little things of going for a walk with someone who knows you as well as (sometimes better than) your own self, and doesn't let you away with any of your excuses or fears.  (We were talking about a lot of those as we walked along.)  So I treasure it. 

Afterwards we stopped by Tescos 'to buy a paint brush' and came out with triple sec, mushrooms, vegetables for soup, grocery-style-takeaway for dinner, bananas, a sketchbook, soup, and pasta.  We had to go buy the paint brush separately after we had finished.  Classic!

Now my little Tesco takeaway is done, and I am off to eat it, and watch Harry Potter with my sister! 

Walk on!

Walk length:  40 minutes

Day 80: The Darkening Day

The day felt quite mild as I set off tonight.  Didn't even need a scarf, or hat, or gloves.  But it turned out to be one of those days in which the cold settles itself in during my walk - gives a cheery, friendly, not quite warm but less than cold impression at the start, and then (rubbing its cold winds together briskly) begins to add slight freezes until my ears are quite numb by the end!

Still, I enjoyed it.  The sky darkened from a light blue grey to a darker shade; a corner of the sky peeped blue but was quickly squelched; the sunset attempted an orange glow but was similarly rebuffed.  Not in an angry way - it was as though the sky was a bit too busy for all that bother.  "None of this now, we're getting on towards evening and you've lost your chance," it seemed to say.  Things were done efficiently, swiftly tonight, and my 40 minute walk sped by before I even really realised it.  I tried a new path today - I'd actually taken this one before, but it appears that the council has decided new paths and new fences are in order, so there were some changes to view and all in all I enjoyed more fields and greenery than I normally might.  Then I walked through a few streets to get back to my own, seeing a friend standing in a doorway and greeting him; passing by several knots of small children who had too little to do and too much time; glancing in to the little corner shops where I was peered at suspiciously from inside; and being passed by several young boys who were hurrying along just because they could.

And now back to a warm home and dinner!

Walk length:  40 minutes

Day 79: This Is The Point

Today was another "I don't really feel much like going a walk" day.  Exactly the point of having a blog and a challenge like this!  So I set out at night, with the wind and the rain in my face, the street-lamps shining on the trees covered in raindrops, and took at least a most basic walk in the area around my flat.  I am coming to love the feeling of winning against the elements.  So far, in almost 80 days, my favourite walk was the one in Helensburgh, where the wind and rain was so fierce and so powerful that I had to concentrate on each step, and in many ways felt miserable and cold and wretched.  But all of that combined with my fighting it out anyway, and I've learned that I love the fight.  To sit inside with a cup of tea and a warm duvet and the wind howling outside is nice; but far nicer still is having that feeling after having wrestled with that wind, after being pelted by that rain, and not being daunted.

Walk on!

Walk length:  15 minutes

Day 78: Be At Rest

"If you look at the world, you'll be distressed.
If you look within, you'll be depressed.
But if you look at Christ, you'll be at rest."
    - Corrie ten Boom

There is only one thing for this day, and it is rest.  We worshiped, we sang, we slept, we laughed, we listened, we rest.

Day 77: Riding Upon The Storm

"God moves in a mysterious way, 

His wonders to perform. 

He plants his footsteps in the sea, 

and rides upon the storm."  

-William Cowper

A walk in any weather points the mind and heart to the Creator of that weather, and of my surroundings.  Today was even more the case, firstly because we were at a conference hearing talks on 'Loving God'.  Might sound a very basic, simplistic title - but as we were reminded, it's useless doing anything else in life without that foundation.  So Pin and I sallied forth into the wind and explored some of the town of Arbroath, and its nearby cliffs, while great waves of water flung themselves at each other, the sea walls, passing walkers, fishermen, and anything they could get their hands on.

We dandered around the harbour, and I wished not for the first time that I could take a still photo of a sound.  The tips of the sailboats made a tinkling, clinking sound as they rattled off each other, the boats rocking in the water.  It was like a multitude of heavy boating bells.  We stood and listened for a few minutes, and then wandered on between coils of rope and colourful cages that have some purpose in fishing, and arrived at a small bridge, at the end of which two fishermen were standing in oil slickers and staring at the sea wall.  There were vast quantities of water on the ground, but I wasn't quite sure what they were waiting for.  I mentioned casually that one of them appeared to be well soaked, and he grinned.

"At least I've got my rods," he said, pointing, and I saw indeed two fishing rods leaning against the bridge.  It was then I looked up, past a set of steps to a high barricaded spot, ideal for fishing, with two rods standing alone and aloof.  A few seconds later one of the most  massive waves I've seen hurled itself over the top of the sea wall, entirely engulfing the barricaded spot, the rods, the steps, and everything that would have been standing in its way.  I see now why the one fisherman was soaked.  The other, not yet soaked, couldn't quite time the raging sea in order to run up and get his rods back.  The sea wall was so high you couldn't see over it, and running up the steps to peer over could whisk a strong man away to sea (rods and all).  I was actually surprised to see the rods still there on their own.  We watched for a while, and a man with his small son stood with us, the small boy running up to the edge of the bridge and then running back.  Then we wandered away, leaving the fishermen to await the calming of the sea.

The power and might and rage within this stormy sea reminded me of a great story.  A small boat, out in the middle of the sea.  Twelve men, exhausted from the day's labours, beginning to notice signs of unrest in the sea itself.  The wind, picking up.  The waves, rising beyond expectation and quickly starting to swamp the sailing vessel.  And a man, their captain and leader, sound asleep in the bottom of the boat.  They know that help is at hand, there in the sleeping man, but these twelve men, some of them hardened fishermen, are fearing for their lives.  The boat will be swamped.  They will all be flung into that angry, stormy, furious sea - and swept to who knows where.  How is sleep even possible?  So after shouted consultation, brief but effective, several of them rush down.  There is shaking, there is shouting.  "Master, we perish!"  "Save us!"  And the man gets up, stands at the edge of the rocking, toiling boat, and says a few words to the sea, a few words to the wind.  "Peace. Be still."  And there was a great calm - so quiet suddenly that the twelve men are beyond amazed, suddenly terrified of the man they had rushed to waken.  "Who is this that commands the winds and the waves, and they obey Him?"  And the man, Jesus, looks thoughtfully on His twelve disciples.  "How is it that you are fearful?" He asks.  "Where is your faith?"

That story may be an 'old favourite', but thinking of it as I stand before a twenty or thirty foot sea wall that every moment is completely engulfed by raging salt water, seeing the unpredictability of it, two hardened fishermen completely helpless to even grasp their fishing rods, it is made a little more real to me.  Jesus has the power to calm the raging waves.  He rides upon the storm.

We walked on, round the edge of the sea and up to the top of the cliff, then back round, idly watching a football game in progress and a man throwing a ball to his dog.  Then it was to the Sugar and Spice tea shop for hot tea, something called 'Chocolate Violet' which I enjoyed immensely, and, of course, fish and chips.  Pin says that you can't be soaked with salt water and desire to eat anything other than fish.

I wonder how our fishermen are faring with their rods.

Walk length:  1.5 hours

Day 76: In The Dark And Windy Night

Tonight we drove up to Arbroath for a youth weekend.  You never know what the weather will be like, and the electronic road signs proclaimed "HEAVY SNOW FORECAST ON SATURDAY".  There were cheers in the car (we are all snow fans) but it was not to be.  We did have fierce winds and sharp cold, but I hadn't taken my walk for the day by the time we got up there, so Pin and I put on everything we had and sallied forth to walk along the edge of the sea.  It was very dark, so all I remember is a roaring sea and a big building and a dark road, but the point is we took the walk!

The wind was roaring so loud you could hardly hear yourself speak, much less think.  Having recently watched Dead Poet's Society, I felt compelled to "sound my barbaric yawp over the rooftops of the world" - or just Arbroath.  I figured with the way the wind was howling, my yawp would get swallowed up and the Arbroath rooftops could slumber on peacefully.  So, I sounded it.  It was such fun I decided to have another go, standing on a bench (getting in "yawping stance"), but halfway through my yawp I was surprised to find the wind nearly flinging me off it!  I'm not exactly a feather in the wind, so I leaped down immediately and left the yawping for the night.  Pin was undaunted, and leaped up on the same bench, ensuring that her calves were pressed against the back of the bench for support.  Hilariously, this didn't help at all, and she nearly flipped over backwards!  I laughed, but the wind took it away and she never knew.  ;)

Walk length:  20-30 minutes (I thought 15; Pin thinks a half hour. I compromise.)

Day 75: Out Of The Mist (Edinburgh)

Today Pin and I took the train to Edinburgh.  It was the first time I've done so from Airdrie on the 'new line'.  We made it just in time and got settled for the journey, while I wrote my morning pages and Pin scribbled away in her little notebook.  After a few stops I glanced out the window and pointed out to Pin that the fog was coming in, as I've said before, not on little cat feet but on heavy tiger paws. It covered everything.  The dark ground contrasted with the white, misty sky (it feels strange to call it 'sky' when it's completely obscured, really); and the trees were just a vague suggestion rather than defined, stand-alone items.  It was the kind of fog that hangs around all day - not just an early morning mist that is whisked away and by the afternoon you're walking in bright sunshine and feeling like you're in a new country, but the deep, heavy fog that is weighed down by its troubles and wants to bring you down, too.

We resisted, though, and enjoyed thoroughly our walk through the gardens near Princes Street - eschewing the roads filled with businessmen and those intent on their purpose, harried-looking mothers with prams, giggling teenagers, and lost tourists.  We did run into two lost tourists who asked us in a slight accent how to get to the Castle.

"Well, it's right there," I said, pointing to what looked like to them, absolutely nothing.  "I assure you it is there, and the easiest way to get there is to walk to the next traffic lights, turn right, and wind your way up the road until the Castle is on your right."

They stared at me.  "But can't we just - " one of the girls gestured vaguely towards what I had proclaimed WAS a Castle, clearly doubting my word - "go up that way?"

I tried not to laugh.  "Well, you'd need good rock climbing equipment, and I'll tell you - there are many armies who tried it and weren't successful, so I wouldn't suggest it."

They just stared at me.

"Really, you're better going this way," I pointed, and explained again clearly which way to go. 

They thanked me, but I had the feeling that it was the kind of thanks that you give when you either don't believe or don't like the advice you've been given and decide you'll wait till the first person you asked is out of sight so you can go up to another and get a second opinion.

Pin and I carried on, enjoying the mist and the fog and the general lack of other human beings around - everything was so quiet and the world seemed stopped in time as we passed through the gardens.

Up close, water droplets sparkled on the trees; tiny buds are beginning to form, the hope of spring in miniature; and the colours were an odd combination of grey, silver, and green.  We came up the other end and found the Starbucks we were seeking, and as we did, I saw one of the lost tourists coming out.  (I recognised her by the leopard-print fake Ugg boots.)

"They decided to get a second opinion," I said sadly to Pin, shaking my head.

"Maybe they only needed coffee for the journey," she suggested hopefully.

We wish you the best, lost tourists!

Walk length: 45 minutes

Day 74: Westminster Divines

Every Wednesday, I (or Pin and I!) walk to the  minister's house to catch a lift to the MET in Glasgow.  MET stands for Mutual Encouragement Time, and it involves studying the Bible or principles from the Bible and applying them to our lives in a way that encourages us in life and faith.  I love the METs because the intention is to be encouraged.  There are no foolish questions.  Nobody has 'all the answers'.  There's a MET leader,  but his goal is not to lecture, but to tease out from the others what we think - even if we feel like we may be way off base.  In this MET, we're studying the Westminster Confession of Faith, a document written by the 'Westminster Divines', Godly men who studied the Bible and wrote out a summary of what it teaches.

This week was a lively discussion about one of the most debated (and by some, the most hated) doctrines of the Reformed faith: predestination.  To believe that God ordained everyone's future to heaven or hell is a very difficult thing for most people.  One of the main reasons is that we'd like to think the best of the human race.  To believe that everyone is basically good, it will all work out in the end, and you can live your life the way you want but at the end get up to heaven and 'sort it all out with the big Man', no matter who you are.  And, we'd all like to think we have some level of power - not just the freedom to decide what we will do, but the power to choose either the evil or good.

Well, it's a long and heavy discussion, and I do not attempt in the slightest to begin that discussion here, or to try to insult the world or anyone in it.  The Bible is a strange document, for it tells us truths about God that seem (to our little minds) to be mutually exclusive: but in God's case they are not.  For instance, how does He manage to  be a God of love and yet also be wholly just?  Is He 'fair' in the sense that we understand the word, giving everyone a 'chance'?  How are God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit three completely separate beings and yet one God?  It's enough to blow your mind - or perhaps cause you to give up in despair. 

But if I've learned anything as a Christian, it is, first, that there are some things about God that I (not being God, or infinite, or all-knowing, or having any of His amazing God-like characteristics) cannot in this life understand.  The second, that if when reading the Word something doesn't make sense, my first inclination is to presume that I haven't got it right.  (I'm usually correct in that assumption.)  And the third, which we talked about tonight, was that if anyone got the 'unfair' end of the deal, it was Jesus.  Lived a perfect life, never did anything wrong, was the ultimate in kindness and grace, saved people's lives, raised others from the dead, healed thousands from illnesses, taught wise words, obeyed all God's laws, and got killed for it.  Took on Himself the punishment that I, we, His people ought to have had.  So that we can live with Him forever.  Now that's 'unfair'.  Surely  we got the good end of the deal.

Walk length:  20 minutes

Day 73: Daily Disciplines

I made myself go out tonight.  I have been going straight from rising to setting and beyond today, and a bit weary in general.  So it was a short walk, but I was glad I did it.  There's something about a walk that freshens the mind, gives you that extra bit of energy, and clears the head a bit.  It also helps you feel accomplished.

Interesting how the little things can do that.  I was realising the other day just how many things I do daily that are disciplines - I very often don't feel like doing them, but the benefit is great.  My daily items include writing for 3 pages in the morning (writing anything, as per my creativity workshop book, The Artist's Way); going for a walk, any length; writing this blog; studying my Bible (I'm learning all that I can about rest from the Bible by journalling my way through it) - and that doesn't include the basics of food and work and the various things that come up.  Some days it overwhelms me, but I've learned that the best way to achieve anything is by doing small things day after day.  Taking a day out every month to do writing doesn't work at all.  Writing 3 pages every morning makes for a heck of a lot achieved without even realising it!

May you all press on in your own daily disciplines today.

Walk length:  15 minutes

Day 72: Confidence in Rest

Another Lord's Day, and another opportunity to get a real and proper rest.  To church in the morning, and then a good long rest including a several-hour-long nap, then back to church in the evening. 

One of the things I've come to really enjoy in the church I am in is singing from the Scottish metrical Psalter.  Sometimes it puts things in a new way, that make me see the familiar Bible verses just a little bit differently.

"O Thou that art the Lord of hosts,
That man is truly blest
Who by assured confidence
on Thee alone doth rest."   -Psalm 84.12

Enjoy your rest today.

Walk length: None! Guilt free!

Day 71: Sunny Saturday

Today was a pretty full day.  Decided to go look at a new car in case it was time to go for it...it's not.  Didn't like the Skoda Fabia that I test drove, so that was a success now that I know what I don't like!  Came back still feeling full of energy so I went a walk down the town with Audrey and Pin, searching for party items!  Saturday night was a surprise 18th birthday party for Josh, and it was a murder mystery theme so we all had fun things to get.  I was Patsy Cline, and being from Arizona I was well equipped with cowboy boots, denim skirt, checked shirt, etc., and all I needed was a big belt and a cowboy hat.  Audrey kindly furnished me the hat (genuine Oklahoma cowgirl hat), but I liked the white one I found in a shop better.  Sorry, Audrey. :)  All the photos I found of Patsy Cline had her wearing a white cowboy hat so I figured I'd better go as genuine as I could! At least my boots were originally purchased in Arizona, so you can't get more cowboy than that.

It was sunny out, though not exceptionally warm, and whilst we were in the first shop the rain came pelting down as though it had completely forgotten it was supposed to rain that day, and was making up for lost time.  Naturally, by the time we were done with that shop, it was well and truly over, and the skies were blue again.  (I think it figured that it was just too nice a day to keep raining like that - and perhaps all the people running around shouting in the rain was an incentive.  Try it next time and see.)  Once the shopping was done, so was I, so I went home to rest up before the big part-ay, and then the girls came over to help get us ready and in the party mood. 


The party was brilliant.  Everyone was dressed to the nines, and we got to hear Elvis singing and watch Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dancing, and listen to Dusty Springfield sing 'Son of A Preacher Man'.  Groucho played the keyboard, and there was a general atmosphere of joy and fun and laughter and hilarity. Best of all, the birthday boy was completely surprised, so that was a pretty impressive feat.  Roughly fifty people crowded into a small house and holding our breath until he walked in (with one pretty hilarious false alarm), everyone saying 'Shhhhhhhh!' in such loud whispers that I figured he would hear us from outside.

Then it was home again, home again, jiggety jig! 

Walk length:  25 minutes

Day 70: Boodle and Banter

Today I would like to introduce a guest writer.  My sister, Pin.  I am feeling kind of grumpy and tired, despite the great exercise I took to the Boodle Bar (and despite the little giraffe who visited me at my computer), so I shall hand over my electric pen to one who can speak when I can not.  Onward!

(Pin)
.....So since today was a do-nothing, grey cloudy skies (like ALWAYS) and generally bleah, we sat around chatting about various nothings and watching Notting Hill. (It didn't inspire us to walk up any hills, it was just inspiring that our Spirits climbed ye wayward paths. Meanwhile, our bodies were encouraged to lay about in our jammies.)  In any case, though we forced ourselves to walk to the Boodle Bar (which is called "Bar Noodle" by its owners, just until they realise that they named it wrong the first time), it was more of a stopgap than anything.

These days happen in the best of times - or the worst of times - you just get tired of doing the thing you did yesterday, and the day before. You wonder if it even matters. (You wonder if anyone reads or cares about your blog post.) You wonder, as you put on your clothes and they still are not as loose as you'd like, if this exercise thing was dreamed up by skinny California people intent on enslaving poor saps into 'eating healthy', when it doesn't matter if you eat oranges or fried pork for supper. 

I contemplated all these things as I went for my own forced walk; the tiny streets around Airdire are not known for their amazing beauty, nor for any charming countryside in which to get lost. As you could see from a former blog post, when you DO hit countryside (or a magic portal to another world!!), the sight is so amazing that you can't help but get lost. The fairies still roam these parts, unchallenged, unchecked - I'm convinced of it. Sometimes they pose as normal people in ugly scarves and uninspiring hairdos (since all hair must bow to the warmth of hats). Sometimes they hide behind trees and whisper wrong directions to you. (This happens frequently in my case.) There is dog poo in the streets, usually around Hogg Street. (True name!) If you get lost in a dead-end street, you can't just jump the neighbor's fence, you have to go all the way around, back from whence you came. So it takes commitment to plod on. And all those sports films that have the 2-minute spot of huffing and puffing by the brave athlete, the night shot of him/her in the rain (Rocky) or the snow (another Rocky) or late at night in the gym whilst everyone else is slacking (Cinderella Man) should actually be expanded to fill up most of the film. That's the reality - you do a mixture of big pushes and small spurts, because you are human, and because grace exists. At some points you have to 'beat your body into submission' (like the Apostle Paul), and the other days, you can rest in the knowledge that a small effort shows commitment as well as the large effort. 'Sufficient unto the day is the (walk) thereof.' :)

(From your new friend and walker, Pin)

Walk length (Karen): 15 minutes
Walk length (Pin): 45 minutes

Day 69: Belated Birthday Bash

Tonight was the repeat of the attempted birthday bash from last week. 

Thankfully, I was well enough to go, so we got dressed in our best party clothes and, after a wee domino cake presented by Megan at home (complete with a random tealight candle scavenged from the flat), we set off for the train station.

It's always enjoyable taking the train.

There are plenty of opportunities for banter, not least of which was the cool fish eye lens at the High Street Station. 

Pin and Megs are always good photo fun.  Mostly because neither of them like getting their photo taken, and both of them suffer with great grace the many photographic incidents I make them experience.  They smile on command, stand still when ordered, and (in this case) peer owl-eyed into mirrors if need be.  I do love them for that among many other things!

From High Street it was on to Maggie Mays, where we enjoyed a Scottish feast before heading downstairs to hear new gigs in the basement.  Pin had the haggis, neeps and tatties starter, which I helped her enjoy!, and I had venison stew for my main - and, of course, my favourite dessert known to the world, sticky toffee pudding.  "Is there no felicity in the world superior to this?"  (Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen)

Downstairs in the basement there were four bands playing, none of whom we'd heard before, all of whom we enjoyed.  They were The Foundry Men, UKreign, Selective Service, and Davey Horne.  I preferred, in order, number 1, 4, 2, then 3.  We all had differing opinions but overall truly enjoyed watching people in a place where the live music means that people's normal sixth sense of 'feeling' when someone is staring at them was totally gone, and so we could stare at people all we wanted.  I felt kind of invisible sometimes. 

We played the Celebrity Game, where you look around and figure out who looks either like a celebrity or friend, or vaguely like them.  For example, one guy standing all on his own looked very like Clint Eastwood, but was much shorter and thinner so we called him Clint Eastwood's dad.  We also saw the Jew's little brother and Matt Jess's cousin's second cousin.  (Long stories.)  Clint's dad had quite a pull, hooked up with a pretty hot girl, we were surprised he did so well.  Maybe it was the cheekbones.  We had comfy seats on the couches which we were loathe to part with, and Megs got hit on as she walked up the stairs to the toilet and back.  (I don't think he followed her into the toilets, but it sounded like he was interested in that option.)

It was much colder when we left at midnight and I was (as usual) very glad to get into my jammies and rest.

Walk length:  35 minutes