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| Start of the day, wearing my high-viz vest |
Today was hard. Harder than any other day so far and it had nothing to do with the actual road or land around me. Within a mile of camp my left foot started to be in real pain. There was no fall or twist, but hot fire seemed to have spread on the top and in step of the foot which meant every time I pointed my toes ever so slightly at the end of each stride shooting pains went up my leg. It got worse the longer I walked and I ended up limping and leaning on my poles. I tried tightening my shoes to give it extra support but it only made it worse, the extra pressure causing a constant dull pain. For ten miles I continued, head bowed. I'd not carried any pain killers as I'd not needed them for the last few months. I hoped to find a small shop in Helmsdale but after reaching it saw little on the main street and simply walked through, pausing as I climbed back out of the town to change my boots to sandals. Some relief, but by this point the pain was constant. Walking flat stretched of road and down hill were the worst.
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| Cooking pasta at the end of the day in my tent |
The day dragged and I made horribly slow progress, covering just over 2 miles an hour. The road around Berriedale was very steep and zigzagging hard to walk on: I constantly had to switch sides and hope that drivers would be sensible around corners. They were, and after rejecting another kindly offered lift I made it to the home straights. From Berriedale the road stops trying to kill you and straightens out along the coast. Then at the twenty mile mark something truly wonderful happened: my foot stopped hurting. The caught nerve uncaught or something and I no longer needed to limp. Relieved that the next few days wouldn't be filled with pain I completed the last few miles to camp and dumped my things. I stopped in a campsite just on the other side of Dunbeath, a very neat and loved place with unusually stylish showers and facilities.
In the shower I sat on the floor and waited for my muscles to ease for well over half an hour. Without realizing it I'd walked tense the entire day and it had totally drained me. Before camp I'd finally found a shop and bought some ibuprofen which would help tomorrow if things hadn't changed. Cleaned I slumped back to my tent, ate and drifted off to sleep dreading tomorrow and hoping that my foot would behave itself. IN my sleeping back it still refused to allow me to point my toes, it didn't hurt while immobile but I dreaded tomorrow. 22 miles to Wick would not be fun if things stayed the same.
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