Every Expedition Starts Somewhere
On surgery, recovery, and finding my way back to adventure — kale by the kilo and dust gathering on the dancing shoes
Tingle, fizz, pulse. The nerves in my foot reliably reminded me with every foot strike that I had made the right decision. Electing for surgery was a long journey in itself but as I donned the hospital gown back in January, I had to make peace with it and succumb to the process.
No accident, no drama, no broken bones — this was a choice and I had to remind myself that choice is incredibly powerful. I had chosen to fix my foot that may have otherwise limited me, and my need for adventure, longer term. It was deciding to prioritise what my body needed rather than putting it off any more.
As I sat up in the hospital bed after surgery, I had a stark realisation that this was going to be a long season of wintering into recovery. The fact that this had coincided with an icy, cold and dark week early into 2026 made the feeling that I was about to enter hibernation even closer and more concentrated.
I’m stopped in my tracks. Mentally and physically at a halt. Starting the year for so many is filled with the ambition of setting new year’s resolutions, the daydreaming about wild possibilities for the calendar year ahead, the ambition fuelled by Christmas over indulgence and a gleeful innocence and naivety about how likely it is that these will stick and be fulfilled. The goals to establish growth, the aims for development of oneself into something more; the version of yourself that was not yet here. Looking into the future and patting that person on the back for all they have achieved. Does this sound familiar? For me, it was hitting pause within the first week of January.
I write this now several months on from a place of hindsight to take all those lessons and experience forward. The festive hamper of reflections from the depths of winter to unwrap and use sparingly in the second half of the year.
The longer nights, shorter days, wet weather and cold climate of the UK makes for an easier path to retreat into the safety cocoon our homes provide us. This hadn’t been my choice previously, I enjoy being active, being outdoors and taking on opportunities to challenge myself and adventure. I adore a muddy jog through puddles in the rain, a bike ride on a freezing cold day in search of the warmth of coffee or a sea dip to take your breath away but at the same time breathing new life in. I’m well versed in resting to recover but this was different, like stepping into the unknown. But into the unknown I went, too far in to come back. I was fully in and needed to fully commit and let the nerves and worry fall away. I had to readjust and find my new normal.
Rest, rest, rest. This was my new temporary normal. Scared to test the new foot 2.0 too much. Crawling upstairs, hobbling on crutches and not leaving the house. Rest, rest, rest. I nourished my body with any anti-inflammatory food I could think of (I never want to eat kale again!). Trying to shoehorn every berry and vegetable I could manage into meals to bank as much nutrition for the energy hungry task of repairing from surgery was a new pastime. Have you been here too? When your world shifts and changes and you want to adapt quickly?
The metrics changed from counting miles outdoors to minutes out of bed. I realised that you can have some seemingly counter feelings show up at the same time; the feeling of strength and determination to rebuild and heal at the same time as vulnerability, doubt and uncertainty on how to best rebuild and heal.
Progress was measured weekly, not daily — a squiggly line of improvement and setbacks. The promise of power returning only to be dashed by discomfort. It was a surgical standoff with progress and recovery was a real sponge for absorbing patience. Tough? Yes. Character building? Absolutely. Somewhere in that frustration lived a quiet, stubborn determination to carve my own path back to adventure — because that’s what I needed to do.
I’m still in it, whatever it is. It morphs and changes, ebbs and flows as I dial up activity then dial it back again. A seesaw of physical back and forth. Metaphorically dancing with possibility and flirting with adventures that have been shelved for a while, along with the dancing shoes!
Wintering in Winter whilst challenging (and painful!) has most definitely recalibrated my radar for awe and wonder. Going from indoors to shuffling just to the back door to feel the breeze or catch a glimpse of winter sunlight. I remember the first time I sat down outside afterwards. Sounds dramatic but it was an incredible reward after huffing and puffing negotiating stairs, using crutches, pockets bulging with everything I might need until ready to take on the return journey. Setting off for a mini expedition when the destination was still home.
My world became so small, so very quickly. But when it slowly started to open up? Everything was in glorious technicolour and crystal clear. I was ready, thirsty, and happy to be back.
It was a poignant reminder of the fragility of the body, and also its magical way to mend. Practicing gratitude in those early days, weeks and months like was really helpful; everywhere were small things to be appreciative for!
Slowing down was enforced but I’m going to hold on to some of the benefits and try to do it more consciously and meaningfully going forwards. As a friend reminded me on my first trip to see the sea, in fact nobody had been up to much because the weather had been so awful! My perception of reality got a good dose of fact checking that day. I’m going to loosen the reins of control and accept more quickly that things don’t always go as you might plan, manifest or wish. I’m going to protect what matters to me and find a new way forward. A way that still aligns with my adventurous spirit, courage to challenge myself in new ways and exploring locally, in nature. I’m excited to see where it takes me…
I’m not over the finish line, yet, but I’m hopefully on the home straight. The dancing shoes will once again see a dance floor, I am sure! What's the adventure you've shelved, waiting for the right moment?
Some of my adventures are still on hold but my curiosity and passion to help others isn’t. If you’re considering how you navigate one of life’s many unexpected detours, finding new paths to tread, new adventures or possibilities then I would love to have a chat. Until then, put your best foot forward!
