"Fat to Fittie"

Only the second night into my road trip and l’m feeling a bit regretful. It’s been a couple of hard days to get to the tip of the UK, l don’t want to bang on about my hips, but the osteoarthritis in them not only gives me a lot of pain, but can prevent you doing many things and cause problems for the most simple task. I had a really good night in the hotel bar, couple of bottles of cider and a spicy pizza, before heading over to my wooden “glamping” hut. I knew it was going to be an early night when l could feel my eyes shutting as l took the last sip of cider, at no point did l have any indication of the awakening l was going to have in four and a half hours.

For the last two weeks l’ve woken at 2am, stressed with anxiety at this trip, telling myself not to go, no idea how my body knows the time, usually nod back off at four and when l wake, my feelings have changed and l’m convincing myself to get my arse there, it’ll be great. Well at 2am this time, it was my arse that had the problem, or rather my stomach. I woke up with a churning feeling, not at the prospect of the trip l was already on, but a sort of rumbling feeling, probably caused by the chilli’s on the pizza.

The hut l’m in is one of three, with the forth being a shower and toilet, I lay there trying to control the mixer sensation, listening to the rain bouncing off the wooden roof. “Well l’m not going out in that” l told myself, hoping it would go away. I flicked on the light and saw my shorts and t-shirt on the floor, my coat was in the car, not far away, but not worth the trip to get it before going to the bathroom. I kept hoping the feeling would go away, but knowing the reality that at some point l’d have to get up and go, then all of a sudden, literally, l knew, l didn’t have long.

As l managed to get up out of bed, which is never, ever an easy task for me, l realised putting my shorts on was not going to be a quick event, l won’t go into detail  but l have a method that uses my walking stick, but wasn’t sure if l had time. I contemplated making the journey naked, after all it’s pissing down, no-one will be about, there’s no window at the front, unlikely to be seen, after careful, quick thinking, a decision was made and l put on the two items as fast as possible. Now for the second choice, lowering myself onto a toilet can be quite hard, due to not being able to bend, so l take a raised seat with me when staying out, not something you like to admit to or be seen carrying. I’d put it in a carrier bag so it couldn’t be identified, but it kept banging onto one of my walking sticks, making a loud noise, if l use two sticks, it’s going to do the same and probably wake them up in the next hut, so l took the choice to walk with one stick, which made my urgent journey, slower, but a lot quieter.

As l opened the door, despite wasting precious time, l was pleased with my choice of putting on clothing, as l’d forgotten about the campervan parked outside. Slowly and noise free, apart from the crunching of the gravel, l managed to get into the bathroom, thankfully it was free, no-one else was mad enough to step outside into the freezing rain. Let’s just say it was a close call and the 20 mins l spent in there, could have been shortened had l got there sooner. As l returned back to my nice warm hut, l reflected on my what had just happened and thought if l had anymore issues to just go for it, after all, if anyone from the campervan saw me, it was so cold, they probably would have mistaken me for a female, Russian shot putter, which would have avoided any embarrassing conversation at breakfast.