Wednesday, 16 March 2011 12:40
The forest is for everyone
Unlike my father I can’t tell the difference between a Birch and a Beech. I‘m not great at spotting birds either. He tells me that some breeds which masquerade as identical can only be told apart by their song...
From an early age my father tried to instill countryside values upon me. Where most youngsters probably caddied golf clubs around for their dads, I would carry dead pigeons on shoots for mine. My mother was eager for me to be a keen horse rider and even managed to get me onto a horse once or twice.
In both cases, I’m pretty sure cold and damp outweighed fun at the time. I just thought it was 'all a bit weird', but at some level something clearly made an impact.
On my 18th birthday I traded my idyllic childhood home in Norfolk for university in London. For about 10 year of my life I thought Chiswick was a ‘green lung’ and to be fair I thoroughly enjoyed myself. But they say you can’t take the country out of the boy and that's an old adage proved to be correct.
About 5 years ago, on a whim, my future wife and I put a needle in a map and discovered Cuddington, a leafy village in Cheshire. With the passing of time I discovered that the cars whizzing along the the A49 with bikes on their roofs actually weren’t just too lazy to ride home. They were heading to Delamere forest about a mile down the road.
One dull afternoon, having yet made no acquaintances let alone friends, my now wife was too busy studying to pay me any attention! I decided that I would head down to Delamere and hire a bike. There I met Tony from TRACS who offered me an hour’s coaching. I eagerly accepted and was instantly hooked.
Having rushed out and purchased my first mountain bike I began tentatively flirting with the forest. I would see how far I could get before I was lost in the wilderness, or more accurately, before my lungs verged on collapse. My transformation from sedentary office worker to outdoors enthusiast had began!
I joined a group of mountain bikers and began exploring every trail of the North West and beyond. I had just got to a point where I had a map of Delamere Forest imprinted in my brain when the unthinkable happened. I broke my second wrist in three months due to a 'hilarious' event my friends will never forget. I got caught looking at the view in the Clwyds, which when on a mountain bike can only end one way.
Temporarily unable to seek adventure, I now realised that the countryside, specifically my local forest had a massive impact on my fitness and wellbeing. Mountain biking was the one activity that enabled me to enjoy my work. It was the release I needed to prevent a very stressful industry from driving me insane. Without it I was a grouch with no enthusiasm for anything much. Something had to be done whilst rehabilitating.
Fortunately my legs were still good, so reluctantly I broke the habit of a lifetime and quickened my pace. Within days I discovered that, for me at least, the pain of running was more bearable in the forest. Something about the freshness of trees and peacefulness resonated with me.
I didn’t look back. Over the last few years I have honed my ability to not be such a lazy bones. I have now entered more muddy, slippery running events than you could possibly shake a stick at. What kind of stick was it? I still don’t know. Possibly a conifer but I really couldn’t care less. All trees have the same effect on me.
So nowadays if you ask me what I know about forests and the great outdoors – let me think – experience tells me that I know what it feels like to ride a wicked berm or switchback. I know that not all mud feels the same when your foot sinks into it. I know that, at Delamere at least, there will be a lovely hot coffee waiting for me when I’ve finished breaking through personal fitness barriers I never before had the confidence to aim for.
I also know that my wife, children, friends and visitors spend a huge amount of time at the forest for a variety of reasons. The most predominant reason being that they love it. So with us all in mind, myself and a group of like-minded friends have created this campaign group. Without our forest, I at least, would be half the person I enjoy being.
So maybe my parents were onto something after all? Though these days they just think I’m weird for my inexplicable addiction to running through swamps. I guess we’ll have to agree to differ…
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Alex makes this comment
16 March 2011