LEJOG Day 11

Crieff is a great place. The first place I saw before the Majors resorted to the Great Sat Nav Con was the Mayflower pub that said accommodation.

Walking in with newly lit up bike, sponsored by Blackpool Illuminations (Dad Major had too much time in Halfords in Stirling by himslef), it caused quite a stir. It was like a scene out of American Werewolf in London. Everyone looked up as though an Outsider was in the room.

Asking for two rooms, I got an incredulous 'yes' which should have been a clue to the State of the Rooms but I couldn't have cared less. Last Friday in Ironbridge marked a lifelong low in the dodgy rooms stakes. At least the locals were nice. Less than 10 seconds later, a Lady sat beside the bar had bought me a large G&T and sent the collection box round the pub.

Get in. We were sent around the corner to the sister pub, the Caledonian, for dinner and it was great. Just enough time to take in all the closed shops. Really interesting, old fashioned proper shops. Not many chain stores and generally speaking, a great high street.

Back at the bar of our abode, I threaten to send the Majors home. The responsibility of having over anxious Parents is ridiculous. We should get Parental Guidance lessons when we leave home - to clue us up for what is ahead when the Majors join in LEJOG day 7 at Warrington and forget 22 years have passed since you last darkened their door.

Not being mean but neither of them can read a map and the Great Sat Nav Con doesn't help. Clearly there is a consortium arrangement between road building companies, petrol companies and car companies. How to send everyone always in the wrong direction to somewhere they didn't want to go, via somewhere they definitely didn't want to go to, must be a cartel. Surely?

After a few for the Great North Road, it was a inbetweeny night. I woke early and was ready to rock at 8.00am. Sometimes a Girl just wants to have fun. On this occasion Little Lady Lead Legs knew she was in danger of never getting going. Again. Ever.

The road out of Crieff was a bit hard. For starters, you had to pass all those lovely shops. Shame it was before 9.00am because they didn't open until 9.30am and there were some gorgeous pink fur lined wellies which really would work well for me.

Then, just as you set off, out of breath up a long hill, you turn hard left and really get out of breath. It's a long hard slog up the Glen. Now there's a clue. Glen. Like Fell, it has another meaning. Just not flat.

But from there on in, for 60 miles it was completely awesome. Barely a car, a truck or a person. Just me, the forest, the Glen, the animals and trees. We so know how to grow trees in this country. Don't get me wrong. Little Lady Lead Legs was a misery but it was hard not to be uplifted by the sounds, smell and peace of nature. At odd points the sun almost shone between the raindrops but it didn't matter. I was lost in it.

Sometimes you have to re-compile your disks. I used to be responsible for IT as one of my duties. Not long before I was able to relinquish the responsibility, earlier this year, we had the first ever Catastrophic Failure. I take my responsibilities seriously and for 48hrs, I didn't sleep, I didn't eat and all I could do was sit and wait for the discs to re-compile. They did. But it was a lesson in IT failure.

When I became very unwell in June and the Doctor gave me a sick note for a month, I couldn't believe it. The last time I had a month off work was when I was at school, too young to get a job. I've always worked, I've always had children and I've always had responsibility. Usually, a lot. For many years, I received around 2000 emails a week. They weren't my workload either.

It was always unsustainable but I always kept going. When the Doctor took away my phone and my Blackberry and said no work, no emails and no nothing until at least one month, it was a shock. A whole month. How on earth would I survive? I began to sleep after a hiccup with dispensing my medicine and then I couldn't stop. It was as if my body closed down. Probably, it did.

And then another month although I was then 'allowed' a private mobile number but no email and no internet. By the end of August, I'd not been out other than to the Doctor or very close Friends for two months. It's life changing.

I know people talk about being 'burned out' but what happened with me is that I blew the body's fuse. After three years of prolonged and intensive stress, my Limbic fuse blew and no matter how healthy I was, no matter how exercised and no matter how determined I was to get back to strength, I couldn't. The fuse has to be re-set and there is only one way. To step back and to step away.

I don't believe in drugs. I've never smoked anything dodgy, taken anything dodgy or considered it. I'm at my limit with painkillers. I was determined not to take any prescription drugs because I didn't believe that they would help. Drugs are bad and I don't need them. Wrong.

As it turned out, I did need some prescription medicine help to sort out my sleeping. Boy did it sort it out. Not sleeping tablets because they are addictive but non-addictive drugs that made me feel me again. It's hard to explain what it feels like when you've blown that fuse but it's like feeling you do not belong in your own skin. And worst, will never belong again.

Looking back, I recall how that felt but it was so awful, I couldn't believe I would ever get better. During September and October this year, I began to feel more and more back to myself. This bike ride has been for me about marking the end of that time and starting anew. It's inconceivable that anyone can go through three years of extreme stress and not have a physical reaction to show for it. I can say that now but I've had a whole day in the World's most Gorgeous Forest.

When your discs re-compile you see things very clearly. I can see that my body needed time to rest, time to heal and really just a lot of time off. Today, surrounded by the wonders of the Glen and the Forests, you see nature as a force not to be ignored. No one is designed to read 2000 emails a week. No one.

I'm sure there will be LEJOGers that will claim that JOGLE is the only way to do this. There's a virtual club that I should shortly join where you have to be seriously Type A or seriously Charity Nutter to be a member. Still, in that club, there will be rankings. At the top of the Mountain, Type A's look at your feet before your face (to see whether you have this season's boots). In Ironman they look at your bike before they look at your face (to see how many thousands of pounds serious you are).

In LEJOG, there's no one here to look at your face unless you are with a mate. And I'm not. In LEJOG it's about you and your determination not to give up and I expect that in the many thousands of lunches and dinners ahead of me, fellow LEJOGers will reveal themselves as nicely smelling Type A's. I won't be interested but know I saw their world.

After 65 miles of Glen and Forest, it was time to hit the A9. Yesterday's readers will recall I swerved it just north of Stirling and went to Dunblane. Albert was calling it and I was glad. Albert always took the scenic route in case today was his last day. And today's scenic route was in his name and to his eternal credit. I loved it, no matter how hard. The last 13 miles on the A9 was for me. Not easy, not pretty and not without a lot of danger. But they were north and there isn't a lot more of north left to do.

Thank God.