A Winter in Lockdown

 Like, well, almost everyone else Scotland I haven’t ventured too far since before xmas so I do hope that you are not expecting this blog post to be very exciting because it isn't. Local we were told it had to be and so local it has been. For weeks. I’m not actually too sure what I have been up to over the last few months since the last lockdown kicked in as life has taken on a sort of groundhog day feeling, a sort of constant repeating rhythm without the real highs and lows of life pre-covid. Having said that I seem to have plenty of photos of the great outdoors so I must have been up to something. I don’t seem to have too much to write about just now so I think I will just fill this blog post with photos.

These are the pre-lockdown ones

The Cairngorms before lockdown part.....whatever kicked in

A winter wonderland on Lochnagar

The summit of Lochnagar

Poppies 

Everythings going to be alright....

Creag Choinnich

The last group runs before lockdown

After Xmas the mini beast from the east struck and we had the best snow in ages and then couldn’t go play on the ski slopes because of lockdown restrictions. I was miffed, which is putting it mildly. Oh well, no point in grumbling, just had to make the best of it and the best of it was at Hazelhead park at dawn or after nightfall to avoid the crowds at weekends. My new skis are a dream and fish scales are a revelation, especially after last year when I had been coating my xc skis in glide wax rather than grip wax. That made ascending particularly tricky and descending particularly exciting and it was only after a clumsy night ski at the Clash when Colin suggested this could be the issue did the penny drop. What do you mean how could I have got that the wrong way round? The instructions on the wax were in Russian. I managed some nice wee trips on the new skis and only one descent into a snow covered bunker on the golf course where I got stuck in the same manner as a beetle on its back.

And these are the post lockdown pics

Sunrise skiing

Combined with the snow and ice came the inevitable winter storms (the ones that have names) and then the thaw where the river burst its banks and the paths disappeared under water and running turned into paddling. On the plus side though “inclement weather” means there are less people venturing out on the trails and so sometimes the local paths and trails were a little bit quieter.

A submerged park bench

In amongst the snowy days there seemed to be many when the pavements and trails were covered in sheet ice and runs were often reduced to stretches of slow jogging or walking but going out running meant I was rewarded with amazing sun rises and wintery scenes. And then there were the dark evenings and the early mornings when the sleet battered off the windows and the run still had to be done. Creative challenges from various Cosmics members did make getting out the door that bit easier – the animals challenge, the bridges challenge, the water features challenge, the of course 12 hills of Xmas challenge. Although nothing compared to the hills our Aberdeenshire dwelling friends (aka lucky b%$&*) have access to there are some smaller hills within the city boundary and so 12 were selected for this particular challenge for between xmas and new year. The instructions were simple, get to the top and take a selfie for the Cosmics Facebook page. It did result in some pretty terrible selfies alongside the stunning wintery sunrise and sunset shots.

Who is hunting whom?

Snowy riverbank

Snowstorm moving in

Sheet ice and mud

Just sheet ice

Early morning mists

A (covid legitimate) trip to Edinburgh

In case anyone is wondering the 12 hills within the Aberdeen city council boundary that make up the 12 hills of Xmas challenge are as follows, Broad hill, Tullos hill, Kincorth hill, Tollohill, Kirkhill (The Tappie), Hill of Marcus, Elrick Hill, Brimmond Hill, Kings seat, Gairn Hill, Gallowhill and, very tenuously, Castlehill (it has hill in the name and there was a castle there once upon a time so it counts. Afterall, these are desperate times)

Icy trails to the hill of Marcus

Brimmond hill summit

Castlehill

Gallows Hill

Broad Hill

Tullos Hill

Sunny winter days

Halloween Hills

2020 style Halloween lantern.

I am only writing about this now as I haven’t felt very…well…bloggy in recent months (is that an adjective or have I just made that up?) I suspect it’s an effect of lockdown as much as anything else, its not really giving me much in the way of mountain related adventures to write about is it? and even less to look forward to so it seems at times. Sitting here in the city centre in yet another lockdown looking back at past adventures on the hills has at times been a little depressing but at the same time I guess its good to have those adventures to look back on. If this pandemic has taught us anything it is that time and freedom are not things to be squandered lightly. 

This was an idea of Jason’s, a torchlit Halloween run up and down Morven thus ensuring that I have now run up and down Morven more times in the dark than I have in daylight. As per usual for any Morven run, work commitments made me late in leaving Aberdeen and my usual attempt on the land speed record in a ever so slightly clapped out 15 year old Mazda ensued but even the best attempts of my poor little car were not enough and as I screeched into the car park I could see the row of headtorches heading up the slope of the mountain into the enveloping darkness. I quickly hauled on a waterproof top, chucked a spare headtorch battery into my backpack along with a chocolate bar and scampered up the field to the foot of the field in pursuit of the headtorches. Happily, the row of headtorches had come to a halt as they spotted me and kindly waited and it wasn’t too long before I caught up. 

The climb up

We climbed up the usual walker’s path squelching through the boggy bits chatting away. It was not particularly cold to start with but as always the exposed ridge had a cold wind swirling across it and it was noticeable how the temperature dropped there as ice crystals were starting to form on the ground higher up. Behind us the sky was fading to a deep blue with a pinky glow on the horizon and it really didn’t seem too long before we were at the summit and sheltering behind the cairn to pull on warmer layers. 

Colin and Bob had come prepared with Halloween costumes – I had failed to find my grim reaper costume which is inevitably hauled out of the attic for every Halloween event and so I borrowed Colin's crow puppet and we did our best to look suitably scary – not there was anybody to scare on the summit of Morven in the Friday night in the dark on the last day of October but that’s not the point, its the thought that counts. We hung round the summit taking photos of the summit cairn enjoying the clear night with the backdrop of a full moon and the lights twinkling in the distance. A moments freedom from the next seemingly inevitable lockdown.

The summit of Morven

Halloween costumes stowed away in backpacks, we descended by the race route which at times caused a little route-finding-in-the dark-based-discussion (it always happens, even in daylight) and squelched our way back down through the boggy tracks and through the field past the derelict cottage (derelict in most people’s opinion, nice little "do-er upper" in my opinion) to the car park. Little mini adventures on the mountains like this are perfect, when the next easing of lockdown comes I will be grabbing the chance to do many more as they are not something to be taken for granted.

Photo Credit Bob E

Photo Credit Bob E

Bennachie Ultra

                                              

The hardest thing about training for an ultra in 2020? Well, I would say it was the uncertainty of whether the race was actually going to go ahead in the first place. When you first send off that entry form there’s always the possibility of something stopping you getting to that start line such as work or family commitments or illness and injury but a global pandemic? Well, that’s a new one. It was only the Wednesday before the Bennachie Ultra was due to take place that the First Minister confirmed that the travel restrictions would be less severe for Aberdeen this time round and we would still be allowed to travel more than 5 miles from home and running events, following Scottish Athletics rules, would still go ahead. And this is me speaking as a runner, it must have been incredibly difficult for the race organiser to know that all their hard work could be wasted so close to the event.

It would be fair to say training had been patchy at best in the lead up to the race. I got really pretty fit over lockdown proper in the spring – not much else to do really was there? The weather was great and there was the novelty of all sorts of virtual running challenges ranging from Scottish athletics mile time trials to hunting trig points to running the ascent of Everest in your back garden. I have to admit trig point hunting and megalith hunting were particular favourite lock down challenges of mine and the North East of Scotland seems to be particularly spoilt for archaeological remains. It was also great to explore tracks and paths around the city and find new ones that I had never run on before despite living in Aberdeen for 10 years.

At the start of the summer travel restrictions were lifted and hill running was back on the cards for folk like myself who had been restricted to the city. On the day on which the restrictions were lifted I got up early in celebration before work and drove out to the last hill that I had run up before lockdown in March and slowly trotted up and down that hill making the most of my time on it breathing in the fresh air, relishing the silence and the feeling of the light summer rain on my face. I was so relieved that that trips to the mountains were back on.

Unfortunately, though it seemed that the rest of the population of the UK had the same idea now they were allowed to travel again. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all for encouraging people to get outside and enjoy the mountains but what I wasn’t prepared for was the filth and the litter that they would leave, it was soul destroying to see. I came back from runs with bags of rubbish in my car and disposable BBQs that people had left and I prayed that lockdown was lifted quickly so that this lot would go back to their beach holidays in Torremolinos (lucky Torremolinos) and to wherever they usually went at weekends. The camper van brigade seemed to be the worst, quite happy to empty their tanks of human waste at the road side in rural Scotland rather than pay for chemical disposal elsewhere. It really defied belief.

Then, in the summer, disaster struck. An oil worker who, instead of self-isolating as he should have been, went on a pub crawl around Aberdeen and some local establishments were less than rigorous in exercising their crowd control particularly when players from the local football club were present and these two events on the same weekend caused an outbreak of COVID in the city. Aberdeen was placed firmly in lockdown and firmly on the COVID naughty step. I had suddenly realised how precarious my freedom was and how dependent it was on other people’s behaviour which is a very sobering thought given the number of idiots going about. Motivation definitely dipped as did training.

Wave 2 heading for the start line

Then lockdown was lifted again but there was little time left before the race and so I managed a 17-18 mile run on 3 consecutive weekends over the race route and that was my training for the race wrapped up for better or worse. I figured I would give the race a shot as I had nothing to lose.

The start of the race was tightly controlled, you could only arrive at the start line within a designated time slot and pick up your number in the start zone before lining up in a small socially distanced group. The race itself was held in a handicap format to assist with social distancing. Over cautiously perhaps I opted for an early start time and was set of in “wave 2” with my little group. The Tunnel Ultra finisher and Spine legend Alan Cormack was the race sweeper and I was a bit disconcerted to find that he had started in the same wave as me. I think I spent the first 13 miles looking over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t being “swept” but the only people coming past were faster runners who had set off in the waves behind me. We all seemed to settle into a steady trot for the first part of the race which followed wide land rover tracks through the forest in the early morning mist before climbing up onto open hillside with the hills stretching out before us and the green rolling fields in the distance. Next, we dropped down from the hill on to the quiet Lords Throat Road for a 2 or 3 mile stretch which seemed to pass quickly enough before reaching the checkpoint at Millstone.

The Bennachie Ultra is a bit of a cruel race in that all of the climbing is in the second half of the race and sure enough, on leaving the Millstone checkpoint it was time for the climb to the summit of Millstone hill. A light rain had been on and off all morning but now the wind seemed to increase so that was the jacket firmly on for the rest of the run. I seemed to be passing people in my wave on the way up the hills but getting passed on the way down and by now there was a steady flow of people who had started in the waves behind me now coming past and likewise, I was passing those who had started in the waves ahead of me.

The dreaded “Zig Zags” had often been mentioned in race Facebook chat in the weeks preceding the race and it was definitely wise to have left something in the tank for this series of trail switchbacks climbing up through the forest out on to the open hillside. On a chilly autumn day the hill was a lot busier with spectators than I was expecting. In true continental style one of my fellow club members was encouraging runners and ringing a cowbell which could be heard over the whole hillside and another popped up like a white rabbit at numerous places along the route. By now the really fast people were coming fast and I had to skip aside off the path to let race winner, Commonwealth Games marathon bronze medallist Robbie Simpson, by. The downside of the handicap format was having to jump off the path to get out of the faster runner’s way when jumping was the one action my legs were not coping with after mile 25. I started to gradually slow down on the muddy hillside tracks, that lack of miles and lack of long runs was definitely showing.

The final summit was the ancient hill fort of Mither Tap where we skirted under the rocky outcrop and I managed to blag some jelly babies from a nice lady there before tackling the final descent. You would think the descent would be the fun part but my quads by now were most definitely feeling ever so slightly battered but I did my best to pick up the pace. I think I had put my estimated time for the run as 7hrs on the entry form and midway round I was wondering if sub 6 was possible but as the sub 6 hours target slipped away I still thought I should chase sub 6.30. It was not to be and I finished in 6.31. I’ll take it.

The race organisers did an amazing job putting this race on in what are probably some of the most trying times imaginable and there was a good spread of food at the end and an excellent goody bag as well and let’s face it, that’s what really matters. Sadly, though there could be no prize giving and no socialising after the race and so most people just headed home after a fantastic race on the hills and, most importantly, for those few hours it was possible to forget all about COVID and lockdowns.

But what if the race hadn’t happened and was cancelled at the last minute? I think if nothing else then 2020 has shown that a complete change in mindset and flexibility towards running is required.

I have entered a couple of events in 2021 and already one has been cancelled and so I think the tactic I am going to employ is picking a long distance route which can be my substitute “race” should the planned event be cancelled, it seems prudent at the moment to have two targets to aim for so that motivation can be maintained. I guess that’s why FKTs are all the rage these days amongst distance runners and so at the moment lockdown evenings are being spent poring over maps with a glass of wine in hand picking interesting routes which will be my alternative objectives if my races are cancelled. We are lucky to have this option.

Morven. Lockdown lifting Part 2.

 

It seems I was a little premature in writing this blog with the link below

 https://louise-runningaway.blogspot.com/2020/07/lockdown-thistooshallpass.html

No sooner were we free to run on the hills then we were in lockdown again. The first lockdown, when the rest of the country was in lockdown, was ok. Bearable. Novel, even. It wasn’t nearly as bad as I had feared but this second lockdown, well its fair to say I really did lose my shit over it. Fire bombing Pittodrie seemed to have the makings of a good evening entertainment and as for the Soul Bar, well who drinks in that over priced wine bar dive anyway? Hopefully, the behaviour of establishments such as Soul Bar will be remembered when people chose their post lockdown drinking establishments. And I now hate football.

I suppose matters are not helped by the weird and seemingly contradictory advice – Face masks didn’t work between March and July and now all of a sudden they do work, stay 2m apart and wear a facemask in ASDA, stay 1m apart and don’t wear a facemask in pubs. I can only assume that this virus is a lot smarter than me if it can work it all out. Of course, there was always the question of whether the shut down in Aberdeen was “politically motivated” given other areas of the country with outbreaks of the virus seem to have been treated more leniently. At times I was angry enough to believe that but when I was asked who I believe between the Scottish government and Aberdeen council I kind of thought the question was phrased in the wrong way. When you are talking about councillors and politicians the question is not which one you trust the most, its which one you distrust the least. Who knows what the truth is. It usually lies somewhere in between.

Anyway the second lifting of lockdown meant hill running was finally back on the menu and groups of up to 15 were allowed to meet to run so Gillian organised a Cosmic’s Saturday run up and down Morven, a hill big enough to feel like a proper mountain – or at least it did to my mountain climbing training deprived legs. 

We did the hill race route in reverse which saved my legs from the worst excesses of the steep climb all of the way up and meant a new perspective on the hill and new views to take in, after all I have run up Morven more times in the dark than in daylight courtesy of Steve Helmore’s annual solstice run. I was slightly alarmed by the number of people in the car park in full body cover as the weather seemed quite mild. Obviously they all did the sensible thing and checked the weather forecast before coming out but as I was already a bit late in arriving I was fairly sure the group would not have been impressed if I’d started faffing around looking for leggings - so shorts it was, but I did throw a second thicker waterproof in my bag as an afterthought. I was very glad that I did as we climbed up on to the ridge there was a very strong chilly wind and it felt pretty autumnal leading me to wonder what happened to summer – oh yeah, we were in lockdown and missed it.

We all reached the summit appearing out of the mist one by one with Andy appearing from a random bizarre direction and I took a run over to the trig point to get a photo - yes I’m still Trig point hunting and posting truly terrible Trig point selfies. 

As we sheltered from the biting wind I pulled on the second waterproof jacket that I had brought with me and Steve dug out the summit book from its hidey hole under the rocks for us all to sign. Claire had thought that he had been talking about a “sonnet book” at the top of the mountain and happily within the plastic tub containing the summit book there was a little piece of paper with Byron’s poem on it which mentions Morven, Bryon having spent time in the area as a youngster so Claire got her sonnet without Steve having to break into Shakespeare or similar. Byron’s other mountain poem “Lochnagar” is perhaps better known set to music as one of the songs performed by the Corries.

After a few minutes sheltering from the wind and making the most of being on the summit we then had the big “which way down” discussion (by which time my teeth were chattering a bit) and ended with us all taking the direct route straight down the hill with only one voice of dissent which was Ian who fancied a longer outing, I am not sure I would have managed it in my post lockdown state of  lack of fitness and besides, my legs were frozen and not working that well. As we descended out of the grey clag the views stretched out in front of us for miles – we could even see Graeme’s house.

It was such a good feeling being out running with the club again, just for those brief couple of hours it felt as though nothing else mattered, Covid was not forefront of your mind. Its not just the physical freedom but the mental freedom too. I think my comment of FREEDOM in the summit book pretty much summed it up.

Lockdown Fun Part 1 - March Stone Hunting

 

A march stone. In case you have seen one and not known what it is.

As we were not allowed to venture too far from home under lockdown I started looking for some homegrown fun which doubled up as a Cosmic Hillbashers lockdown challenge. This included hunting down those tricky little march stones and some hard to find megaliths (thanks to Ewen for that suggestion). Once lockdown was lifted and we could travel further away march stones and megaliths were abandoned in favour of forays further afield however, due to Aberdeen being on the COVID naughty step and lockdown re-imposed once more, I’m beginning once again to see the attraction of hunting march stones. 

March stone set into the road outside Pittodrie. (The less said about the muppets in this place the better!) 

Fortunately, I did not exhaust my supply of march stones last time around by any stretch of the imagination so there are still plenty to be found.

Alpha Stone marks the start of the boundary line

Omega stone marks the end of the boundary line

The march stones - here's the history bit....

The ancient boundary to the city of Aberdeen was marked by a series of boundary stones also known as march stones with the term “march” originating from a 16^th century name for a boundary. Early boundary markers were most likely significant features such as trees and rivers and boulders or cairns but from 1525 onwards they began to become more standardised with some of them taking the form of “saucer stones”  and in some cases cairns were erected to mark the line of the marches but these cairns have not survived.

There are two sets of boundary stones, the inner boundary stones that mark the boundary of the Royal Burgh of Aberdeen as it was in Medieval times and the outer stones which mark what were called the Freedom Lands. After 1790 stones engraved with letters and numbers took the place of saucer stones and this style of march stone remains today.

The stones are engraved with the letters ABD for Aberdeen with the inner march stones also engraved with CR meaning city royalty. Contrary to popular opinion they are not marked with “COVID capital of Scotland – abandon hope all ye who enter”.

In recognition of the assistance he had received in establishing independence, in 1319 Robert The Bruce granted the city of Aberdeen custodianship over the Royal Forest of the Stocket which were hunting lands and the city then purchased three more areas which came to be called the Freedom Lands and these were Rubislaw, Cuives or Woodside and Gilcomstoun. The area of Hilton was also purchased but this did not form part of the Freedom Lands. In 1551 the city asked Mary Queen of Scots for the rights to rent land which became the estates of Countesswells, Foresterhill, Hazlehead and Kingswells.

A 1929 Map of the March Stones and Freedom lands of Aberdeen (ref https://aberdeenmarchstones.co.uk/)

The tradition of riding the Marches was basically the practice of riding the boundary lines to ensure that they were being maintained and observed and that no landowner was trying a sneaky little land grab. The riding was followed by a bit of a feast and a celebration, a tradition that still happens in the towns of the borders today.

Anyway I started out on my mission to collect these march stones but, like collecting megaliths, consumption dykes and trig points (more about these to follow) this is a work in progress however I’ve marked off a few city ones. A few other Cosmic hillbashers started on lockdown missions of their own to tick off march stones and the end product of this challenge were some truly dreadful "march stone selfies" for the Cosmics facebook page.

 

Worst selfie ever?

I think doing the whole march stone boundary route in a day would be quite a good expedition and achievable. It wouldn’t be that far in distance but it may not be that simple as some of these stones are quite well hidden and you need to know where to look. It might actually be one for winter time for when the plants and undergrowth have died back a bit as some are quite well hidden and maybe some route recces of the trickier sections in advance would pay off.

Probably passed by lots of times but not noticed by most

I had some help... *sigh*

Here's the link to the map and location of the stones if anyone is looking for something to do and wants to go March stone hunting. After all, God knows how much longer we are going to be in lockdown.

https://www.aberdeencity.gov.uk/sites/default/files/2019-04/Boundary%20Stones%20Trail.pdf

#lockdown #thistooshallpass

Strangely March 19th seems like a long time ago now. So much has happened in that time and yet so little. Back then looking at the harrowing reports from Italy and Spain which were flooding BBC news in March it seemed on that dark cold spring night as I sat in the car park for Clachnaben that hill running was to be banned, at that point it felt like forevermore. How long was this pandemic going to last? How many were to succumb to it? Isn’t this basically the flu by another name? So many questions and unknowns. In Spain you were not allowed to leave the house for anything except to buy food and medical reasons, exercise was forbidden. Lockdown meant lockdown. In France you could go out but no more than 2k from your front door. Running in groups had now been forbidden in the UK for fear of transmission of the virus. It seemed as though it was only a matter of time before running in its entirety was going to be banned especially as groups like jogscotland were still meeting up against all official advice.

The car park at the foot of the hill was understandably empty, the hill was completely devoid of people. I felt confused and angry. It seemed hard to understand banning hill running when there was zero chance of transmitting the virus to anyone. Surely if you couldn’t be suffering from a deadly virus and still be running up a hill, after all if it was like the flu then hill running was the last thing you would be doing. This was of course before the 2 week incubation period was really known about and the seemingly large numbers of asymptomatic carriers who could also transmit it. But at that point it all made no sense to me. Maybe in reality though it’s my state of mind that should be questioned. My concerns were not whether I would keep my job in the face of the inevitable economic uncertainty of a global pandemic nor whether I would succumb to a deadly illness. No, my concern was whether I could go running.

“Further announcements” ie: the announcement of lockdown were to come from Downing street on the Monday night. Another strange decision amongst so many throughout this whole crisis. Monday was the day after Mother’s Day. Why not lockdown before Mother’s Day? Surely it was obvious what was going to happen on this commercially hi-jacked day so far removed from its original religious roots and yes, Mother’s Day was originally a religious festival before you ask.

A little lesson in religious history – Mother’s Day or, to give it the correct title Mothering Sunday, had nothing to do with visiting your mother – it was the 4^th Sunday of Lent when it was traditional for people to return to visit the mother church which was the main church or cathedral in the region or county. It did not involve spa weekends or Pandora bracelets. The current incarnation is an American invention dating from 1908 and American Mother’s Day is in May, not during Lent. And from what I could see during my run around Hazlehead Park on the Sunday, the hills no longer an option, it was clearly happening – big multigenerational family groups all out and about having picnics against all government advice. How many lives would have been saved if lockdown had come in 2 days earlier let alone 2 weeks earlier? Not being a huge fan of these based-in-religion-now-hijacked-by-commercialism type of events it was certainly a little anger provoking. Actually I think I’ve just answered my own question there. The decisions made by government  thus far appear to have all been based on the economy rather than reducing the death rate.

I ran slowly up and down the hill relishing the silence and the cold and the dying light of day giving way to a starry night. At the foot of the hill I stood slightly forlornly and watched the stars above the silhouette of Clachnaben wondering when I would be back.

It was an important lesson in impermanence I suppose, nothing is forever and its possible in a very short space of time for everything to be taken from you in ways you could never have anticipated. But then likewise again everything changes quickly and the dark cloud started to pass after a few weeks as predicted by the scientists. The gradual easing of lockdown started in June and by the 3^rd July we were allowed to venture further afield than the regulation 5 miles. How I envied anyone living in Aboyne or similar locations who could just run or cycle to the mountains throughout it all. Aberdeen is fine for running but there are just too many people, everywhere was often so busy during the remarkable spell of good weather this spring. I longed to run somewhere where there were no people.

July 3^rd was a Friday. The 5 mile travel limit was finally lifted so I decided that the appropriate thing to do would be to visit the same hill as my final hill run before lockdown, Clachnaben. As it was a work day this meant a pre-work start on a wet cold summer morning and I wasn’t the only one who had that idea as I could see the silhouette of a runner on shoulder of the hill up in front of me. I was at the summit before 7am and a cold rain shower was blowing through as I looked out at the mists skimming the hillside with a sense of relief. Freedom at last. Away from the city, away from people. Proper self isolation. I’m not sure what I expected to see though. It was not as though the hills would have suddenly changed in the space of 4 months, they were always going to be there waiting. The bracken was longer and the grass and trees lush and green compared to that almost winter night I was last there but no, nothing had changed. At one point a mountain hare bounced past me and I’m not sure who was the most startled, him or me.

After getting a bit chilled from standing around on the summit I dragged myself away and jogged back to the car to find the other runner had not returned yet, he was really making use of the lifting of the travel restriction (or didn’t have to go to work) and I procrastinated about going home and having to start work even to the extent of standing in the rain and drinking coffee. Running up mountains at 6am in the morning probably isn’t normal for most people but this was at least a step back towards my normality.