For those who fall and for those who pick us back up

Simon McGill — 2026 Walk Story

Good morning all. It’s just after 2 in the morning the day after the walk. The pain took 4 hours to wake me up at just after midnight. I ignored it and went back to sleep. The pain then teamed up with other bodily functions and informed me I needed the bathroom, and, given the state I was in, would need advance notice to plan and execute the journey of 15 feet.

Yesterday was my 5th go at the Louise Smalley walk and my first DNF. I got to see the other side of the event. I’ve always appreciated the work of the volunteers who support us during the day but I had no real understanding of what they go through in providing that support. Now I do.

Something I’ve always loved about the walk is the atmosphere; the camaraderie. Everyone wants everyone else to do well. Everyone knows and appreciates how hard it is to walk 40 plus miles. Not everyone knows how it feels to try and miss. As you can imagine, it’s not great.

To begin with, all was well. Registration at the Oak. Everyone in good spirits. Temperature was mild with a threat of drizzle. Perfect walking weather. We arrived at the start point with time to spare and actually started a few minutes earlier than previous years. This year I was again joined by my best friend of 28 years. He finished the walk but more on him later.

The first few miles of any walk are always enjoyable. You share a few words of encouragement with friends and strangers alike as your natural pace asserts itself and the faster walkers disappear into the distance. Unless you’re my friend, who could have been up the front but decided he’d rather hang around at the rear echelons with yours truly.

We got a few sporadic bursts of drizzle during the first section and I think we can all agree, it was most welcome. Our collective weather apps told us it would remain cloudy during the day with infrequent bouts of drizzle…our apps can get in the bin.

Not much to report on the first section other than the stunning views and agreeable weather. Oh, and the uneven ground…which definitely contributed towards my problems as the day progressed. Even my friend commented on the state of some sections and he’s not given to natural whinging like me.

I should point out that I was in sandals from the start. Yes, I’m THAT guy. Not the messiah, just a very naughty boy. I’d completed the last 3 walks wearing sandals for the last 20 miles and had no problems! Well, except for gravel, nettles, brambles etc, the bane of any sandal wearer. I’d been dared/sponsored by the lads in the pub to dress up as Brian from Monty Python’s life of Brian and complete the full walk in sandals…

‘Did you at least bring replacement footwear’ I was asked on more than one occasion, to which I honestly replied. ‘Oh yes, I have spare sandals’. Nobody can say I didn’t commit! In fact, I changed into my spares at CP2 and they helped a little due to being my better worn in pair. Not enough though.

A word in defence of sandals. Good enough for the Spartans. Good enough for the Romans. Good enough for me, ok? Unless you see someone doing the walk barefoot or wearing sliders/flipflops, sandals are NOT the weirdest thing you can wear for a walk. Be told.

Everyone assumed the sandals were my inevitable and eventual downfall as I sauntered into CP3, found a shady spot and promptly collapsed into a sitting and then laying position. This was in fact not the case. My feet were sore but unblistered and despite their colour, in far better shape than many of the feet I saw fellow walkers trying to wrestle back into socks and boots.

No, it was a combination of the weather, my costume and my size which all ganged up on me to the point of collapse. I’d gone pretty much non-verbal after setting off from CP2. The sun had made an appearance, the clouds had disappeared and despite me drinking 10 (yes, 10) litres of water, I’d managed the sum total of 1p. I could have cried but didn’t have enough moisture in me to perform the act.

For the avoidance of doubt and to anyone else thinking of donning a full-length, polyester robe and sash for a 40-mile bimble…DON’T. I’ve done it so you don’t have to. ‘Are you not hot wearing that?’ was the other big hitter in repetitive questions for the day. To which I had to fight a very strong urge to whip it off and storm away in my sandals and boxers shouting ‘Ya think?!’

Not even I wanted to imagine that. So instead, I’d just nod and smile. Well, smile, grimace, show my teeth, it’s all the same thing, right? Anyway, the damn thing ended up containing 10 litres worth of my sweat. I fully expect it to disintegrate in the washing machine.

Toyah, team lead at CP3 had a very weird day yesterday. ‘Jesus showed up and asked me to spray him head to toe with water’ is one of the sentences I imagine got brought up at the dinner table last night.

‘Jesus looks in trouble’ I heard Trev comment at CP3 while I lay trying to decide which of the cramps in my body were causing the most grief.

‘I’m, not the messiah’ I mumbled with my eyes closed. ‘How far is it to the next CP?’ I asked my mate. ‘And, more importantly, is there any shade?’

‘6 miles and I honestly don’t know’ was the response.

I’ve known the man 28 years. I value and trust his judgement. ‘There’s no shame calling it here.’ He said. ‘There’s no point doing serious damage and it’s not just 6 miles; there’s 15 to go to the end.’

‘Well mate, I can’t even make the next 6.’ I confessed. Shook his hand and sent him on his way.

At which point I surrendered myself to the care of Toyah and her team. They were fantastic. They got me sat on a bench in the shade. Another 3 litres of water. My mate had left me a sachet of electrolyte powder and they kept trying to tempt me with various nibbles all while taking care of the other walkers coming in and out of the CP.

So, I got to sit and chat with other walkers while I felt every joint in my body seize up. Gave and received words of encouragement and sympathy for the discomfort everyone was feeling. Made me feel that I’d done the right thing by retiring at a CP rather than carry on and get into trouble in a remote location.

I was asked if I wanted a lift back to the Oak but I asked if I could accompany them to CP6 to help cheer the walkers on for the last stretch. ‘Getting cheered on by Jesus must count for something?’ I reasoned. And they agreed. I managed to carry a whole 2 folding chairs to the support van by way of earning my keep. This was all I was capable of.

When we got to CP6 the first thing they did was set me up a bench to park my broken body on and watch them quickly and efficiently set up the stand, chairs and refreshments. It’s a surprising amount of kit required! Fellow walkers; sandwiches are being made for you fresh in situ. Cakes and fruits cut up and arranged along with any number of pre-packed sweets and crisps. Gallons of water, juice, tea and coffee. It really is a slick and seamless operation.

I know from experience how uplifting it feels to get cheered in and out of the checkpoints. I would have stood for you guys but standing was an issue. I even got a lift from Toyah back to the Oak rather than make me wait until the last walkers had gone through. Which meant I got to cheer my mate at CP6 AND be waiting at the Oak to buy him a pint. Thank you so much for everything!

My congratulations to everyone who managed to finish the walk yesterday. But my empathy and appreciation to everyone who’s had to make the call to stop. It’s not easy to admit defeat and retire. But just a thought, it’s called the Louise Smalley Long Walk Challenge. If it’s not possible to fall short, then it isn’t a challenge.

To emphasize the point, my friend, who you may remember completed the walk last year with just 2 small blisters to show for his efforts? Yeah, he went big on blisters this year! And his weren’t the only feet I saw yesterday that looked destroyed. Proof that it was indeed a challenging route.

My final thoughts and thanks are for Liz and the small army of volunteers that work so very hard to make this event what it is, year after year. I got a glimpse into what goes into the supporting of the walk. And if next year, or years after, I’m not in a position to walk, I will be supporting, because I’m very proud to be part of this event and the community it represents. We literally couldn’t do the walk without you.