A couple of mornings in Oxford, albeit slightly north of the town in Wolvercote. It's the same routine. Pack shoes and kit. Ambitious, packed two lots of kit, hat and gloves. Quick scan on streetmap.com to see the OS mapped public footpaths and see 'options'. Good. And go. Then 'life' gets in the way. A late night. It's the easiest thing to just set the alarm, roll over and sleep. And sleep until you really have to get up. It's a busy few days, long days and it's been a mission to get here. Not a day where things have gone well.
Instead, I stay up a little longer, study the maps, make a plan, and set the alarm 2 hrs earlier than I need. Next thing the alarm goes off. Have I really slept? It's time. But I'm tired. It's dark out, cold also. The window is open and an exposed shoulder feels the immediate attraction of being pulled into my bed, my warm bed. OK, one snooze. The alarm goes again immediately. I step out and look out at the sky. It's clear, but dark. OK, I'm getting up and out. Dressed, shorts, T shirt, hat and gloves.
I walk by the cleaners and night staff at reception, I request to have the doors open. They give me a look. They don't seem ready for 'people' just yet. I'm out, a deep breath to take in the still and fresh morning air. And then it starts. This is what was planned. The beginning of an unknown. I don't know where I'm going, how far I will get, who or what I might meet, what I may see, what obstacles may get in my way or even if I'll make it back in time. Yet the hard work is already done. Anything from here is a bonus. Yes, this was the plan.
