My bête noire is something I've posted about before - the sheer drop. I was there again at High Tor today on a blisteringly hot afternoon, and got a little closer to the edge. I think I did anyway, I felt like I was daring without being cavalier. Some lads were nearby drinking beer and generally relaxing and looking blasé - I walked as close to the edge as it felt safe to do so, took the following footage, and stepped back.
I turned to them, and said, Would you believe I was shitting myself when I was stood there? - and they all said they'd gone no closer than I had, that it scared the hell out of them too.
It's not that I want to put myself in any danger, I just don't want to be limited by such fears. I wonder if the sense of the sheer drop is even hinted at in the footage I've posted?
The fact that I was working for a short while this morning, as mentioned in the previous post - and will be doing so again tomorrow - has, I think, worked in my favour in a way. I had a sense beforehand that this would be a wasted weekend, that I wouldn't feel able to do much or to unwind, since I knew I would be working both mornings and that everything would be anchored around that.
What I've done, actually, is aim to absolutely make the most of the weekend, to ensure that it is in no way defined by these little pockets of work that I'm doing. Thus, as soon as I finished my work this morning I was into town and on the train out of there, to go for a walk in beautiful countryside for a few hours, followed by meeting friends for food and drink later. Come tomorrow, following the morning's initial travails, I intend to keep myself similarly active: I already feel as though I've salvaged more than enough to make this weekend a most enjoyable one.