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A mountain before breakfast

Alex Roddie
Alex Roddie
5 min read
A mountain before breakfast

Every weekday, unless the weather is genuinely terrible, I like to get out and do some exercise before doing anything else. My alarm goes off, I hit snooze once or twice, I drag myself out of bed, I brush my teeth, I check the weather, and then I head out the door. The goal is to be back home before 8am; this gives me an hour to eat breakfast and make myself presentable before work.

I began the first version of this practice back in 2017, when I participated in the 'Walk2017' challenge to walk 1,500 miles. As part of this, I started a habit of walking five miles every day before breakfast. It doesn't sound like much when I write this now, but looking back it was honestly one of the most important things I've ever done for myself. Such a little thing, such a simple thing! But the impact on my fitness, my thinking, my ability to focus, even my photographic skill has been tremendous. It catalysed many other positive changes.

Over the years my pre-breakfast adventure routine has changed several times. During Lockdown, wildlife in a local nature reserve was my salvation. For about a year from late 2021, keen to develop my running skills, I turned my five-mile dawn walk into a five-mile dawn run. And last year, after moving back to Scotland, I've alternated between morning bike rides (usually about 20km) and short runs along the local lanes.

But my local mini mountain has long been calling to me. I've already climbed it many times since moving here, including half a dozen or so nights camping on its summit, which features an intriguing ruined tower. Why not climb the mountain every morning... or at least two or three mornings a week, taking advantage of weather windows? Could I do that? Even right through the cold, dark months of winter?

💡
I hope you'll forgive me for not naming this mountain explicitly or including a map on this page, but I'm mindful of safety. I don't feel comfortable advertising to the internet exactly where I'm going to be early every morning (not to mention where I'm leaving my bike!)

Just one problem: this hill is just a bit too far away from home. I can fit in a pre-breakfast adventure up to about 1:30 hours. Any longer than this is too long. If I lived at its foot, there would be no problem – I'd easily be able to hike up and down in 1:30 hours. But I live almost 8km away by road. That's 8km there and 8km back, plus 2km up and down the hill and 265m of ascent. It's just too far as a hike.

But not if I add my bike into the equation. And not if I run, rather than hike, on the hill.

I went and did a recce on a recent fine Saturday. Now, it'll be no surprise to learn that I eschew metrics when it comes to outdoor adventure. I never wear a GPS watch and I never time my runs or gather any health metrics whatsoever. However, I made an exception this time, because I wanted to give myself a baseline. Could I do this in less than 1:30 hours?

Turns out that yep, I can! I measured just over 1:20 hours from door to door, including a couple of minutes stopped at the summit tower, some photo breaks, and a few minutes talking to the farmer at the bottom. He was interested in my plan and gave me permission to leave my bike in his yard whenever I wanted. 'The dog'll bark at you, but she's soft as butter.' The dog, I soon learned, is indeed a softie.

The cycle to and from the base of the hill is easy. The ascent, which I know well by this point, is a steep climb but also steady and varied; although I'm not much of an uphill runner, I can run the flatter bits and power hike up the rest, making it to the summit in just over 20 minutes. And the run down is a really good downhill gallop.

So I started heading out before breakfast. Doing it all in the dark makes it feel a bit like a real adventure. I've always loved night hiking – I used to do a lot of it back when I lived in Suffolk, and something about moving through the mountains by head lamp feels comforting. Just me and the night.

Before the hours changed, it was dark. Just a smidgen of pre-dawn light at the top, but otherwise almost total darkness... except for some bright moonlight on a couple of mornings, enough to let me turn my torch off. I was a bit worried about the downhill trail run in darkness, but it turns out that my knowledge of the route is more than good enough, and my legs/feet do all the thinking. No brain required.

Over the last two weeks I have done this little morning adventure seven times. I'm being careful to build rest days into my schedule, and I'm not going to hammer myself with this – if I feel the need to ease off, I will. Nobody's going to give me a medal for doing this. It's just a personal fun little thing. I'm going to be careful regarding my gear choices over the winter too, but right now conditions are still very mild.

The rewards? Honestly, words aren't enough.

Some of the mornings in the last week, after the clocks went back, have been sublime. But the days grow shorter quickly at this time of year, and soon enough I'll be back to darkness once again. I'm looking forward to seeing how this adventure evolves over the winter months to come.

🌄
With apologies to Alan Rowan, from whose excellent book I borrowed the name for this blog post.

All images © Alex Roddie. All Rights Reserved. Images produced using a camera and free of AI contamination. Please don’t reproduce these images without permission.

Notes

Alex Roddie

Happiest on a mountain. Writer, story-wrangler, digital and film photographer. Editor of Sidetracked magazine. Machine breaker.

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