Day 68 has seen 11.25 miles walked, 1371 feet climbed, a 2,000 year old fort visited, some wonderful people met and some money paid in.
Today started very gently on the 0903 No59 bus into Stirling. On the bus I met Gerry Wagliardo from Virginia who doted over Georgie and inevitably asked me where I was going today so I introduced her to the Beat the Beast Challenge and hope she carries me over to the States with her. to catch the No54A up to Airthrey Road in Bridge of Allan to walk the 1.5 miles up the Sherriffmuir Road through the deeply gladed road cut deep in to the rock to the start of the walk up one of the hills I had never been up yet looked at so many times as it stood guard over Stirling. The Dumyat. All worked like clockwork. I was feeling good, the sun was out and Georgie was happy. At the Car Park at the start I prepared myself for the climb and set off. As I climbed the hill I met Simon and Jo Fraser who were a lovely couple just recently moved to Bridge of Allan and exploring the area. They made the fatal mistake of asking me what brought me up the hill today so I introduced them to the challenge. They listened so intently and asked so many questions that before we knew it we were at the top of the Dumyat for photos. It was I think the quickest climb of the Dumyat in history – or at least felt like it when in such good company. But sadly it was time to go our separate ways as I wanted to visit the 2000 year old fort of the Pictish Tribe of the Maeatae who gave their name to this fortress hill or Dun hence Dumyat.
I strangely felt a little lonely on the way down. The views were good,once out of the biting wind it was not too cold and the going underfoot was reasonable. I was in really good time for catching the bus back so had no reason to be melancholy but was, ever so slightly. Then a chap came trotting past me apologising profusely with the most enormous smile on his face because he had to run as he was on his lunch break. I toyed with the idea of jogging down with him but decided against it and let him go all the while annoyed with myself for letting him go. As I watched him descend ahead of me I felt a strong pull towards him. Half an hour later I arrived at the car park marking the end of the route and stopped to pop on some warm kit and grab some lunch. Then from behind me I heard a shout. ‘You made it back then!’ I turned and struggled to identify who this cheerful man in a smart shirt was standing by a van adjusting his tie. ‘So you made it down off the hill ok. Well done.’ Something told me to pop over the empty gravelly car park and say hello. ‘What you been up to?’ He clearly wanted me to tell him about the challenge. I kept it short conscious that I had a bus to catch. Then it all became clear. When he passed me on the way down he had a nagging doubt that he should have spoken to me. Same as I did as I watched him go. Once he got to the bottom he saw that he had time so decided to wait as he got changed. He was also once a soldier and when he left found Jesus Christ. That perhaps explained that pull I had to speak to him and him to me I think. I was worrying about my bus time and the walk back doen the Sherriffmuir road still to do but shouldn’t have worried. He was now a bus driver and was to be driving my bus this afternoon. The No59!! I told him how impressed I was with all the drivers and how much more pleasant it had made life when they were so happy and helpful. I told him about the post I wrote saying just that. Then I wondered whether there was anything First Buses could do to support the challenge. The idea hit us both at the same time. His face lit up at exactly the same time as my light bulb came on. Perhaps they could put support Beat the Beast challenge posters on the busses!! How cool would that be. It was time for him to get to work and for me to start walking. A handshake and exchange of names. A photo and a cheerio to Kim Wade as he drove off to work. I still had plenty of time so decided to walk the additional 4.75 miles into Stirling to pay in the money raised from the fundraising tea and additional donations. There was a bus at 1457 so plenty of time.
I came down the Sherriffmuir no problems and started towards Stirling. However as I headed through Causewayhead I was starting to feel very odd. It felt like such a long way after the physical and emotional effort of the day. I was stumbling slightly. My head felt physically heavy with a dull ache at the front and my legs felt very heavy. I just felt heavy and uncoordinated, struggling a little for breath, feeling nauseous and almost, at one stage, as if I was on the verge of shutting down altogether. My legs buckled slightly. That Theatre safety curtain of tiredness I had described earlier was descending and no matter how much I tried to cajole myself along I just did not seem to be able to crank it up again. This was not an epileptic seizure of any kind. This was new, felt specifically cognitive and motor related almost as described in the text books, or by my Oncology team, and felt almost unbeatable. I was starting to panic a little, was this the start of the decline?, and tried to find a safe route free of traffic. I didn’t trust myself to cross the road and sadly Geogie’s road sense was worse than mine. Sensibly I decided that I needed a rapid intake of energy. A chocolate bar was needed quickly as fast energy before my flapjack I was starting to nibble on started to have any effect. I saw Tescos and decided to walk in. I needed the loo desperately as well now as well. What a great decision because I quickly bumped in to a good friend Robert Turnbull who had been so encouraging to me and was pleased to see me and said I was looking better. Less puffy!! This made me smile. He offered me a lift home but I didn’t want to take it. I didn’t want to sit in the car and give in to this feeling, I might have switched off altogether so I declined his kind offer and went to the loo. That quick conversation with Robert made me feel a little better. A long pee made me feel still more better. A Yorkie found along with some marrowbone treats for Georgie and I was on a bench outside taking off my boots. I had developed hotspots on my toes so needed to tape them before they became blisters. Yorkie first and then I taped my toes. Boots back on and my feet felt more comfortable while the chocolate seemed to be hitting the spot crank by clankety crank the curtain was lifting. I could breath again.
I pushed on to the bank still feeling groggy but certainly more aware. However once I got to the bank I suddenly realised that I was still struggling. Every time I tried to count the money and stack it in to piles to write it into my cashing in book before paying it in over the counter I lost count, or came up with a different figure everytime. I just couldn’t seem to fulfil this simple task. I recounted and recounted and recounted and eventually came to the same figure twice in a row. As I turned round however my heart dropped. A long queue had developed and I was running out of time I needed to catch the bus. I packed away the money again and walked rapidly for the bus. I sat and waited and waited and waited. By 1515 I was starting to realise that something was up. Not so much that the bus was late but that nobody else seemed to be waiting for it. I stood up and checked the bus timetable. I had been a real idiot. The bus I was planning to catch only ran on school holidays. I was going to have to wait another 45 minutes. Back to the bank but this time, after a succession of poor decisions and mu inability to count the money I decided to throw myself at the mercy of the teller. Thank goodness because in so doing she not only got the answer right first time but it tallied with the figure I had written on the envelope the night before. Why did I not just remember I had done all the hard work in counting the money the night before. I was clearly not firing on all cylinders but the wonderful Catriona Macaulay clearly wanted to talk so I told her this money was raised by the wonderful Buttercup Café in Doune for the Beat the Beast Challenge. So the conversation went on as she told me she had lived in Doune, had friends currently also fighting a brain tumour and that Cancer had affected her very close family. I started to understand that there was a reason for getting the bus timetable wrong. However I still needed to get home in time to get James back to Callander for his climbing club. I had to catch the next bus. I rushed off then rushed back in remembering that I had forgotten to take a photo of Catriona. Photo taken I went quickly down to the bus stop. With 5 minutes to spare I settled in with the other people at the bus stop and dtarted to make copious notes onmy phone about today. Still no bus and after a short while longer something told me to look up. I saw the No59 reversing out of his bay. He was in the wrong bay. That didn’t make sense. Perhaps he was reversing to come in to the right bay. Then I looked up further. I WAS IN THE WRONG BAY. I had sat in No 2 rather than No 7. Another monumental you know what and I HAD TO CATCH THAT BUS. Georgie spurred in to life we harried our tired old bones to the end of the manoeuvring area where the busses had to cross pedestrian lights to get on to the main road. I pleaded with my hands to be let on but the bus driver waved me on. He was not stopping for anyone. I muttered something most ungentlemanly to myself rhyming with Farse Pole before running for the bus. Across the road with two nice gentleman in cars coming in opposite directions sensing my need screeching to a halt to let me cross, or perhaps I hadn’t looked properly and was already on the road. I wasn’t sure but they let me through. I waved thank you and ran on up the hill to the main road through the city centre. Over the road this time more cautiously but with a sense of urgency as I saw the bus stop at a bus stop a few hundred metres further up the road. God was smiling at me today because there was a good queue to get on so I made it. I was breathing heavily but calm and just asked politely if it might not have been better or perhaps more decent to have stopped at the pedestrian crossing at the exit from their compound. He was pleasant enough the driver and explained that he would have got a ticking off for such a move. I wanted to explain that he had just made a man with a brain tumour and a 91 year old dog who had just walked 11.25 miles climbing 1371 feet run across some busy roads and up a hill but decided against it. After all it was entirely my own fault that I had again made a stupid decision and sat in the wrong bay. And as I paid for the bus with my disabled bus pass I realised that that said all that was needed to be said and as I turned to get my seat who should I bump in to again to lift my spirits and make me smile but none other than Gerry Wagliardo Virginia back from her trip to Glasgow and on her way to Callander. We had a lovely chat.
I made it home in time to collect James and get him outside in good order for the bus to Callander for the climbing. On the bus who should I bump in to but Paul McIntyre carrying my flame burning brightly as he had some fun on his chair running over his friends feet. I also bumped in to Elisabeth Cairns who had made that most unexpected donation yesterday with her sister Charlotte McLaws. Again we had a good catch up and I was able to let her know that her donation had been safely paid in.
And as James climbed I ordered a Mocha and a flapjack, had a kiss and a hug with a friend Katie from the village who then sang a ‘Finger of Fudge is just enough to give your kids a treat!’ to her son Andrew with me. He melted away looking a little bemused and I sat to start writing up the post with a smile while I reflected on the day. I relected not so much on the fear of what felt like a near shut down but was probably just extreme tiredness, or even in particular on the wonderful people I have met today but more on a question that was beginning to trouble me.
In the last 68 days I have had 3 people ask me directly if I had found Jesus Christ and countless others profess their faith to me. In my previous 42 years I can’t think of it happening so directly before. Not once. Most extraordinary. So what has changed in me to make this happen so often? Apart from being a little less puffy!! What or who are they seeing in me or can they see two sets of footprints in the sand or am I just eyes open, ears pinned back and more perceptive as I fight for life by engaging with it more?
Certainly from my perspective each encounter with a professed faith has been with a person who glows with the light of life glittering from their eyes and beaming from their face. I hope that I too can glow with such warmth and love of life one day.