It’s surprising how quickly human
beings can get into a routine, how few repetitions it takes to form a habit. I
suspect I’m not alone when after returning home after a great holiday the
routine created in just a few days of living somewhere different lingers in the
mind for some time, perhaps not in the same way as the great experiences, but
in a way representing the “feel” of the holiday. Such is the effect of doing
something several times in a routine way.
I’ve stuck pretty well to my
post-Christmas exercise regime for five weeks now. At the start walking most
days seemed to eat up such a lot of time out of my week and fitting it into my
schedule was a challenge. As I walked time moved slowly at first, especially
during the evening walks where there was little to stimulate me in my surroundings.
A couple of times to start with I was aware of the gradual onset of fatigue
caused by day in day out exercise and the weekend long walks.
Now, after only five repetitions
of my weekly schedule it feels like a quite natural part of my life. It is an
integral part of my routine and I have become comfortable physically and
mentally with walking regularly to the point where I look forward to my walk,
and if I occasionally miss one I do miss it. I can’t claim that the training
element has elevated my fitness to a new level, and have certainly not pushed
my effort levels to anywhere near what will be needed on Coast to Coast, but I
do feel a definite benefit and somehow better prepared.
Almost every week, with just the
odd variation, I exercise six times. Four walks, one run and a visit to the
gym. Tuesday is rest day. Our eldest grandson stays with us on a Tuesday night,
so it makes sense to take a break from Coast to Coast on this day and focus a
little on normal family life. I think I have become a little obsessed by my
mission these last few weeks so a forced break once a week is a good thing. I
try to switch off from Coast to Coast altogether on this day, but usually fail.
At least I don’t spend time at it.
Today is my day of rest. Tonight,
instead of Coast to Coast I am preparing to start an Open University course!
A couple of years ago Carol successfully
completed an Open University Degree associated with her work. Over the four
years of hard study I became her “glamorous assistant”, helping with her study
diary, proof reading, document formatting, making sure assignments were
submitted on-time, and being a general sounding board for ideas and
frustrations. Not only did I develop a deeper admiration for my wife during
that time, I also enjoyed the process, and while she won’t admit it I think she
did too.
There were several modules in
each academic year, each one lasting maybe eight or ten weeks. During that time
the students were expected to do some research into a particular aspect of the
subject and then submit an essay response to a set question. I thought the
format was excellent, the way education at this level should be, allowing the
students not only to demonstrate their knowledge of their subject but also to
express themselves in a reasonably unrestricted way.
The graduation ceremony was at
the Barbican Centre in London. It was a tremendously proud and emotional day
for me, and I’m sure for Carol too even though I had to push her to attend. I
was affected by the day, in a good way. I revelled in being in an academic
environment again after so many years away. Coming from a world where end
result is all into one that recognises knowledge and ideas for their own sake,
one that acclaims individual achievement for what it is and the potential it
offers, was truly refreshing.
I even appreciated the
presentation ceremony itself, all of it. Anyone who has attended one of these
ceremonies will understand that this is unusual. The format is typically some
sort of opening address at the start and closing speeches at the end, and
sandwiched between is a procession of all the graduands being called forward
one at a time to shake hands with the dignitary and collect their scroll. This
takes a long time, and it can seem a very long time indeed, all to witness your
loved ones’ few seconds on the stage. Moreover there is a well-ordered sequence
to it all. This predictability means that there are no surprises. There is no
need to keep a close eye on proceedings just in case your loved one is called
up next. You can work out from the sequence of qualifications and length of
time it takes to get through each letter of the alphabet as the surnames are
read out pretty much exactly when your moment to pay attention will come. So
when after twenty minutes they are still on “BA in Biology awarded to Julie Brookes”
you know you had better make yourself comfortable.
I didn’t even especially enjoy my
own graduation ceremony, although the whole-day experience was admittedly
memorable. It didn’t help that I had a hangover (I was still trying to live
like a student despite having been in work for four months and well and truly burning
the candle at both ends), and having a surname that begins with P is not ideal.
It means you’re over half way down the queue, and when you’ve received your
award it’s not all over by any means.
I stood with tears in my eyes,
hairs standing on the back of my neck, applauding proudly as my brilliant wife
was called to collect her award. But I also watched with genuine interest as
each of the others stepped forward in turn, each one having been on a journey
and with a story to tell. This was not normal.
Carol & Ian at The Barbican, 2011
I was inspired. I wanted this for
myself. I felt I was ready to study again. Within days I had enlisted on the
opening modules of a Masters course in the management of agile software
development. This is an interesting subject, really, and it also supported my
work nicely. It was a three year course, with the first two being “taught” and
the third a free-format research dissertation. I was already anticipating being
exposed to new insights into my profession and to expressing my thoughts with
like minded colleagues. I even visualised myself being called forward up those
steps at the Barbican.
I selected Project Management and
Requirements Gathering as my first modules. Familiar subjects to ease myself
back into academia and potentially opportunities to dazzle early in the piece. I
eagerly opened the pack of course materials when it arrived in the post in keen
anticipation of my new intellectual challenge.
Within an hour the bubble had
burst. Instead of the free-wheeling challenge to my talent and imagination I
was expecting these courses were going to test my ability to draw a data flow
diagram and put together a Gantt chart. For anyone not in the industry they are
just as dry as they sound, and provide very limited opportunity for self
expression. Flicking forward through the material to the module assessments I
saw a series of closed questions designed only to check that the material had
been thoroughly learned. Both modules were the same. The dream was over.
I kept at it for a couple of
weeks attempting to convince myself that once I got into it I would feel
differently. I didn’t of course. During these two weeks I took a closer look at
the modules to come and asked some questions of the tutors in the hope that the
modules I had chosen weren’t representative. There were of course. Disappointed
and disillusioned I quit, something I almost never do.
The Open University were very
fair and supportive, and whilst they couldn’t refund my fees they did give me a
substantial credit, to be used within 18 months. That was 15 months ago.
Alarmed that I was effectively about to lose a pretty fair chunk of money I
stirred into action. I have to use the refund on courses starting before the
end of May, so I have enrolled on four, all running at more or less the same
time. Proof if any were needed that I am not the hyper-organised uber-planner I
am reputed to be.
The first to start is Listening to
Music. True, it’s hardly Masters material but you didn’t see the choice of
courses starting between now and May. Anyway, I might be surprised.
Then there is Nutrition and
Weather Forecasting (two separate courses!). I figured these would be useful
additions to my hill walking kit bag, although I’ve since been reminded by a
former close friend that they are likely to make me and even bigger
know-it-all.
The final course is Digital
Photography. This is the one I am most looking forward to and I would have
happily enrolled on a longer more demanding course at the expense of the
others. I regard myself as a decent photographer with a decent eye and have
been complimented on my framing. I am completely untrained though and I expect
this course to really move my photography on.
I think I may need to take my
school books on Coast to Coast.
Finally, answers to the quiz from
2nd February.
Walking Dave & Rob crossing Striding Edge, 2012
The mountain hero in question 1
is Walking Dave. The clue is in the question. Sticking with the people related
questions, I am the well dressed walker in question 3 and Rob is the man in
shorts in question 5. The bonus point answer is my son Reece. This shot was
taken near the summit of Ben Hope, which is the answer to question 2.
That photo was taken at
breakfast-time on the day of our ascent of Ben Hope, and is taken across a
mill-pond like Kyle of Tongue on the north coast of Scotland. As can be seen
from the picture this was a perfect early spring day, and ended with me
achieving a long-time ambition to climb this isolated mountain. The final push
to the summit was through a pristine snow-field, and the views from the top on
such a crystal clear day were spectacular. Despite the snow it was so still and
warm that we sunbathed next to the trig-point for over an hour.
Reece & Rob sunbathing at the summit of Ben Hope, 2010
The Lake District edge in
question 4 is Striding Edge of course.
How many did you get right?
Anyone with six out of five?
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