I spent the last two days tackling the overgrown, ivy-riddled mass that is the 70 feet long by 12 feet high hawthorn hedgerow that runs along one side of our garden. That involved a lot of climbing up and down a ladder (probably totalling more ascent than we achieve in any of our local walks) and exercised muscles in my upper body which have long been lying dormant.
Ignoring the aches and pains of this unaccustomed exercise and ignoring the tiredness caused by two days of constant physical exercise (three days if you count Monday’s walking), it seemed like a good idea today to go out for another stroll. Erroneously, it also seemed like a good idea to take that stroll whilst wearing a weighted backpack.
I completed the 14.25 miles (yes, the same route as Monday) in a state that I would describe as ‘hurting’ (Mick would probably describe it more as ‘whinging’). Call me a girly-wuss, but every movement aches.
And there’s still two-thirds of the woefully-neglected hedge left to cut in between more training walks…