Jill Pringle Swims for Hip Health Awareness

Hip Dip Hooray! 100 lengths for Steps Charity in Hip Health Awareness Month

This morning I switched my walking shoes for my swimming goggles for a single 2.5km swim (100 lengths of the pool). I completed my Hip Dip in 1 hour and 7 minutes!

If you have hip dysplasia, or someone in your family does, then you’re more likely to know that June is Hip Health Awareness month.  Every year, to mark it, Steps Charity hold a Hip Dip Swimathon.  This encourages those of us with different hips to take to the pool and raise money for others with hip issues. 

Swimming helps me walk.  The days that start with a swim are the days I walk better.  If I’m having a bad joints day, or I’m in pain, then getting in the pool is the best way to realign myself.  I think I was really designed to be more of a sea mammal than a land mammal!

Swimming is particularly good for people like me, born with hip conditions, as it emphasizes upper body activity whilst supporting my body weight. It avoids any load on the hip joints.  For me swimming is fun.  I have really fond memories of swimming with my parents and group swimming lessons at school.  For the first time I found something sporty that I could do as well as other kids in my class.  Despite my hips, knees, ankles and feet all being deformed.

I had a hip replacement when I was 32.  This was after my old hip - which was actually just a femur resting on the edge of my pelvis as I was born with no socket at all on the left side - finally gave way.  I had 18 months of significant pain, commuting to work on crutches, before I finally got my bionic hip. It wasn’t a straightforward replacement as, to this day, part of my pelvis is still missing which made grafting a metal socket onto it hard.  Yet it transformed my pain levels and I’m so grateful to have had it.

After my hip replacement I recovered first with some hydro-therapy, and then with regular swimming. I took some swimming lessons to get my face in the water to learn front crawl, and from there I’ve always found the water the most natural place for me and my hips.  

I normally swim for 30 minutes and don’t count the lengths. But this morning my lovely partner was there to count me up to 100, watched over by the lifeguards. I’m so thankful to the Elmbridge Excel Leisure Centre in Walton for their practical support, as well as the regular the swimmers around me in the pool who took time to say well done! And I can’t believe I did it in just over an hour.

And from you, well, if you get chance to pop £5 in the JustGiving page pot, I’d appreciate it. £5 would allow Steps to send out a full information pack out to someone who is newly diagnosed, or their family.  It will give them the community and support they need to know there are other people out there with different hips, and they are not alone.

Most of all thank you for reading.  That’s what Hip Health Awareness Month is all about J

Love to you all, Jill xx

DONATE HERE NOW for Jill’s Hip Dip on her JustGiving page.

You can follow @WalkingJill on Facebook or Twitter, or learn more about hip dysplasia from Steps Charity here.


Jill Pringle Disability Hip Dysplasia

Diff-ability & Me: when someone else says what’s in my head!

Did you watch Alex Brooker: Disability and Me on BBC iPlayer? I caught it last weekend and I’m so glad that I did.  I have rarely watched anything about disability that I could fully identify with. But this was like someone being inside my head and knowing what I feel.

This programme gives you a good understanding of what being different feels like - and how easy it is, when you’re born with a disability, not to actually know that much about it or have really considered its impact on who you are.

I can’t possibly share everything about this programme in a blog post. Nor should I, when the best advice I can give is to watch it here.  But it’s inspired me to talk about how I relate to what he shared about being different.

1. It’s a personal journey and we’re all differently disabled

I had not met any adults (that I knew of) with hip dysplasia until I started this blog and joined the Steps Charity facebook group. What strikes me in those forums is how different the challenges are that people face, who all have the same condition. Many other ‘hippies’ who read my blog could not envisage walking the South Downs Way.  Others do a whole host of physical activities I couldn’t comprehend.  

I loved that Alex started and ended this documentary by simply saying he wasn’t trying to be the voice of all disabled people, he was just one person trying to learn more about himself, his own disability, and how it impacts him.  I started walking and blogging for exactly the same reason.

2. It’s very possible to know very little about your own condition

Watching Alex tell his Mum to come into the doctor’s appointment with him because she knows more about “his challenges and what-not”, made me feel a whole lot better about my own lack of knowledge about hip dysplasia.  For the first three blogs I wrote, I even think I’d mis-spelled it! 

I grew up knowing I was differently-abled and knew the term CDH, but for the first 16 years of my life, the doctors all spoke to my parents, not me, about my condition. I loved visiting Sheffield Children’s Hospital for check-ups because they had new toys and other kids there had funny legs that looked like mine. But I couldn’t possibly comprehend the discussions and decisions being taken. I remember having more curiosity when I had my leg lengthened aged 16 – and in the end watching the surgical teaching video of the operation beforehand – but it was my parents, not me, signing the consent form.

The first time I became conscious of how little I knew about my own body and history was when, aged 32, I went to the first consultation about my hip replacement. Mum and Dad weren’t there. Suddenly I was discussing the options, making the decisions and signing the consent form complete with the list of all the things that could go wrong. I suddenly understood the emotional impact that this must have had on my parents. As Alex did with his mum on their return visit to Gt. Ormond Street.

3. Being a diff-abled teenager is hard

Both Alex and those he interviewed who’d been born with their disability, said that they had the hardest time as a teenager. And boy do I remember that!

Paralympic swimmer Susie Rodgers shares with Alex how she even stopped swimming for a while, because at that age you become hyper-conscious of how your body looks and you don’t want people staring. 

Whilst other girls’ legs were becoming beautiful, shapely assets, mine remained spindly and not straight right through school. Aged 13, I actually won a knobbly knee contest at the local working mens club! My DDH bum is flat as a pancake and there are no curvy child-bearing hips.  As far as my lower body is concerned, none of the assets that attracted boys were there.  Definite wallflower territory!

Being really physically different is not the same as choosing to stand out by dying your hair blue.  There’s this extra layer in trying to decide what your identity is – where does the disability fit in?  How much do I want it to define me?  Do I want to hide it (quite hard) or share it?  Do I try and prove I can do anything others can, or do I protect myself from situations where I might be physically challenged?  I do both, for the record!

4. Unspoken fears for the future

The part in his documentary where Alex gets most emotional is when he admits for the first time that he fears how his young children’s reaction to his disability might change as they get older. What will they think when I can’t do what the other dads can? He also shares how hard it is to watch doctors check his new-born’s arms and legs to check they’re "not like his".

I never had children.  I was clear from a young age that I didn’t want to.  Part of that decision was very definitely about my hip-dysplasia.  I remember discussions with doctors and my dad about whether I could biologically have children and of course the answer was 'as much as anyone else'.  But try and have them before a hip replacement.  And obviously with your particularly bad hips and part of your pelvis missing, you might find it harder to carry the weight or have a natural birth.  

I’m sure all of that had an impact on my decision.  And I also recognise not wanting to be a parent who can’t do what the other mums can.  Carrying any weight is no fun for me. I’m so grateful for Tesco deliveries because food shopping used to be a nightmare. The thought of lifting a toddler, then trying to walk and not fall over and injure my child, was always in my mind.  In the end I figured that just myself was enough to look after and keep upright.

And the final fear is what will happen to my joints when I get older? When I was 16 I was informed that it was the norm to have no more than two hip replacements, each would last 10-15 years and then that would be it.  In my young head that had me in a wheelchair by mid-40s. That fear drove me to seek to achieve more and more, quicker and quicker - like a ticking clock to get everything done before I can't walk any more. I still sometimes think “when do we need to move into a bungalow so I’m prepared for the day the stairs are too much trouble?”

Of course, having watched elderly parents, or just friends who used to be runners then injured their knees, I can see that this isn’t a disability issue but more of an ageing issue for everyone.  It’s just instead of starting to think about it in mid-life, I’ve been thinking about it since I was 16.

5. Superhumans struggle with real life too

As a marketer I find the way disabled people are portrayed both fascinating and frustrating.  Most often you are presented with people who are either severely immobile and housebound or the SuperHuman Paralympian.  Very little in-between.  The Paralympics in 2012 was fundamental in its representation of Ability not Dis-ability and I’m so glad I got a ticket to cheer the Paralympic athletes at the Olympic stadium.  But it’s as hard to live up to being a SuperHuman as it is for most Sunday runners to compare themselves with Mo Farrah!

So it was brilliant to hear Susie Rodgers tell Alex she still finds it annoying that she can’t do some things and how that does not feel at all super-human. In reality she is super-human at one thing - swimming.

I still can’t push a shopping trolley without ramming people (you use your hips to steer); it’s really hard to cut my toe-nails or tie shoe laces; I have a minor panic attack if I have to walk upstairs when the handrail is on the left not the right, or game-over if I also have a bag to carry up the stairs.  And yet I walked the South Downs Way which inspired myself and others.

Thank you - to You and to Alex Brooker

First off, thanks for reading this. It turned out to be a long one!

I was just so inspired to write this because of Alex’s documentary. So a huge thanks to him too for sharing the normality of being different. If you get an hour, do go and watch it here.

And if you want to follow my walking challenges follow @WalkingJill on Facebook here or click here to donate and support Steps Charity.

Until the next time….  Love to you all xx


peak district snow winter walks

Winter walks & wobbly hips

So the good news is I’ve now completed 41 miles of my virtual Pennine Way challenge.  If I’d been walking the real trail, I’d be in Hebden Bridge in Yorkshire by now. But in lockdown-land I’m still doing my winter walks safely and locally in Walton on Thames.

My progress has been a little steadier than in my first week though, for two reasons. 

First, I overdid some sweeping at home, and got myself out of alignment.  For a few days I couldn’t move without severe pain in my knees, right hip (the real one, not metal one) and neck.  Even my gentle yogic sun-salutations were too painful.  Swimming in a warm pool is normally the best re-alignment – which of course is not allowed right now – but thankfully, visits to my osteopath are within the rules.  My heart goes out to everyone who can’t exercise fully right now, and especially diff-abled people where their options may be even more limited.

The second reason was, of course, the snow.  I love watching the snow fall and my partner will tell you that I turn into an 8-year-old giddy-kipper!  My body, however, doesn’t compute.  The fragile biomechanics lose their grip, and my fear of falling goes into overdrive.

I know I’m not alone in this. I was contacted by a new friend with DDH via the blog, whose hip dysplasia story is quite similar to mine in terms of childhood diagnosis.  She commented that she dreads the snow for the same reasons.

I had my femur lengthened when I was 16 – very innovative at the time the surgery was done in the late 80s and for the first time I was straight if I stood still.  It definitely helped my back, and also my singing (as I could use both sides of my lungs for the first time), but it meant that my orthopaedic surgeon couldn’t set my hips level 16 years later when I had my left hip replaced.  And today, adds to the balance issues, as well as the unique gait.

So for a few days the closest a got was watching the winter walks series on the BBC i-player (well worth a watch if you want some calm and spectacular scenery).

In the last week, as the snow has passed, I’ve got back into stride on my own winter walks.

And I’m very thankful for them.

   

Jill Pringle was born with bi-lateral hip dysplasia.  She is walking the virtual Pennine way to raise awareness of DDH and money for Steps Charity, whose motto is We Don’t Take Walking for Granted.  You can support them, and Jill’s walk, on JustGiving here.


Jill Pringle derwent lockerbook edale

Virtual Walking Challenge: 16 miles imagining Edale to Crowden

In the last week since I set my challenge, I’ve walked 16 miles.  A chunk of that last weekend, smaller walks each day in the week, and the final 3 miles this morning. I'm walking in Walton but imagining walking from Edale to Crowden on the Pennine Way.

If you have hip dysplasia then little and often is a good strategy (frankly even if you don’t). It keeps me mobile and stops my joints locking up, without too much pain.  Right now, in covid lockdown, it’s also a reason to go out and get some fresh air every single day and get a digital detox.

I’m using my daily lockdown walks to complete a virtual Pennine Way – the oldest and most challenging national trail that runs from the Derbyshire Peak District up to the Scottish Borders.  To help me, I’ve bought the trail-book by Stuart Greig that I’d use if I was actually walking there – so I can read and share where I would be after 16 miles.

The trail actually starts in Edale.  I know Edale quite well and I can picture it clearly in my mind.  My partner and I stayed just outside the village 3 years ago, but it’s somewhere we visited on Sundays from my childhood home in Sheffield.  I once walked up to Jacob’s ladder as a teenager, but never made it all the way to the top.  I remember my Dad talking about how easy it was to set off in sunshine only to have the mist roll in very quickly and you’re easily lost or stuck in a peat bog.  I’ve written about Kinder Scout’s historic significance in getting us the Right to Roam before. 

Today the Pennine Way takes you on an edge walk around Kinder Scout rather than right over the top and my walks along the river in Walton on Thames this week would have taken me right around Kinder, with amazing views of the dark peak’s famous gritstone outcrops. (in my virtual walk the weather is always sunny enough to see everything, unlike the reality of my foggy climbs on the South Downs Way).

Eventually, 9 miles in (so this Tuesday in Walton) I’d be crossing the Snake Pass.  I know this road well, with its breath-taking bends and cliff-edge views that make it a favourite for bikers.  My Dad was living at Lockerbrook Farm – high above the snake pass and Derwent dam – when my parents met, so it’s an area I cherish for more than its outstanding beauty.

The rest of my mid-week walks would have taken me just over Bleaklow Head, and so this morning, my 3-mile walk - which took me along the river from Walton past Sunbury Lock towards Hampton Court - would have been a much steeper descent down to Torside reservoir and then crossing the Woodhead pass to end in the village of Crowden.  Somehow magically someone would have set up my tent in the campsite and I’d be having a cuppa and some ginger nuts right now with my boot-free feet on the grass.

Clearly, my walking has been much easier than the virtual trip I’ve just taken, as it’s predominantly flat and there are plenty of places to stop and sit, and I’m never that far away from home and a cat waiting to sit and relax on my lap.  But it’s still walking – which not everyone can take for granted.

Thanks for following, for reading and to everyone who’s donated to Steps Charity in the last week. I’m so very grateful for your support!


lockdown walking challenge banner

Lockdown Walking Challenge: little and often on the virtual Pennine Way

I wholeheartedly support the need for another national lockdown until we are all covid-immunised and it’s safe to mingle again.  My belief that it’s the right thing to do, didn’t however stop me from groaning as the local outdoor swimming pool closed last night and my next chance to unlock my joints swam away into the sunset! Well, maybe it’s my chance to set a lockdown walking challenge 2021.

I have been doing daily shorter walks around home – I usually take a walk at lunchtime or late afternoon for half an hour, to keep my joints moving and detach from tech for a while.  In the first lockdown last year I used my hour a day outdoor exercise religiously. 

This Saturday I walked with my trusty poles for 3.5 miles along the river.  Caitlin has been doing her usual sterling job of keeping the BeaRCats community together virtually by getting us to pledge miles towards a team goal.  This weekend we collectively smashed Lands’ End to John O’Groats by some distance and it was nice to play my part. 

I’m definitely missing striding out in the open countryside.  On New Years’ Eve I commented to my partner that I hadn’t recognised just how much walking the South Downs Way in 2019 had contributed to my mental health in that year.  It gave me a big goal, a sense of purpose and helped me embrace @WalkingJill – the girl born with hip dysplasia – as a big part of my identity.  It also helped me deal with my dad’s death that year and so when my mum died towards the end of 2020, I feel that I haven’t had the same outlet to process that she's gone. 

The walking I’d done on the South Downs hadn’t just been about the physical action of one foot in front of the other.  It was about connecting with nature, with my family childhood in the Peak District and ultimately with myself and my different ability.  The national park was my own personal mindfulness app. 

Since the lockdown state is likely to continue well into 2021, I feel the need to get more consistent about finding that walking rhythm and having that challenge to focus me. 

In lieu of swimming I will have to use my wonky-yoga to try and manage the locked joints.  And to do my lockdown walking miles this year in much smaller chunks without travelling.

Steps Worldwide’s work over the last 40 years reminds me that there are many people who can’t take walking for granted.  250,000 people are born with or develop a hip disorder every year.  In 1971 I was one of them and I'm lucky that I can walk, just a bit differently.

I might not be able to use my right to roam the moors right now, but I can walk every day and I need to put that to some good. 

So from tomorrow I’ll start logging my local daily walks towards a target of 268 miles – which is the length of The Pennine Way.  It’s still my dream to walk it for real one day – the oldest and most challenging national trail from the Scottish Borders through Northumberland and Yorkshire down to the Derbyshire Peak District so close to where I grew up.

But in 2021 I’ll walk The Virtual Pennine Way.

And I’ll do it my own diff-abled way.

You can follow my progress on Facebook @WalkingJill and if you want to donate to Steps Worldwide you can do so here.


5K walk in Ockham Common Jill Pringle

Unlocking my lockdown joints with a 5K walk.

This morning I just needed to get walking again. Whilst I have walked 30 minutes locally every day through lockdown, I can feel how tight my joints are and my unusual gait is more pronounced. Which means my muscles are working harder - and they ache. A lot.

I know there are two things which, in combination, help me manage my hip dysplasia and painful knee: Swimming and Striding.  Since I still can’t get into the pool to do the laps I love, I decided to pack my poles, don my walking boots and drive to somewhere I could walk a bit further, and a bit faster with the help of the poles.  My target was to walk 5K – to also support my friend Caitlin Limmer and the Bearcat Running Club as today was supposed to be the annual Turks Head 10K.

Just before lockdown I moved from Twickenham to Walton-on-Thames.  So it took just 17 minutes to drive to Ockham Common, park up, and start walking through the woodland. It was just what I needed!  As I got out of the car I could hear the birds and smell the trees (the recent rain really helped) and I immediately felt my body relax. And I was surprised how quickly, with the help of my trusty poles, I was able to get into my stride.

I love woodland walks. I’m always reminded of walking with my parents up to Lockerbrook Farm above Derwent Water in the Peak District.  Thankfully today was much flatter but equally beautiful. 

I’ve never been to this Surrey Wildlife Trust land and was struck me most was the variety of terrain.  I took a path through the bracken, under the tall canopy of deciduous trees and quickly got to the edge of a lake.  There I could see baby frogs hopping towards the water through the rushes.  I made my way into the forest along wooden planks above the bog, and into the beautiful English woodland.  Here amidst more bracken were beautiful rhododendrons in dappled light.  Eventually I reached a small road, across which was the most amazing wild-flower meadow.  I stood and watched the butterflies playing with the tall daisies in the morning sun.  I made my way back through the woodland to the car but since I’d walked less than 4K I decided to take another path.  And I’m so glad I did.  Here I was amongst tall conifers and walking uphill on fine, chalky ground, to a clearing. And the landscape changed again.  Suddenly I was amidst heather, birch saplings and small Christmas trees! And a big sky.

After a round loop I made it back to the car having walked over 5K.  It was enough to stretch my joint, but not too much for a first outing.  I have managed to book my first osteo appointment in 2 weeks’ time and hope to start swimming in July to really re-align my body.

Because now I have the walking bug again.  Which feels simply wonderful.


yoga mat in jills garden

The 'Wonky Dog'. Yoga and hip dysplasia.

So I got up this morning and decided that I was definitely going to seize up if I didn't take action to get more exercise during the collective lockdown. For the last few days I have gone out for a daily walk - at safe distance - but my body is so used to its morning swim, and monthly osteo visit, that it's starting to really object. The swimming pool has always been the one place where my body doesn't feel lopsided, and it totally relaxes. Rather than feeling like exercise it feels like giving my brain and my muscles a rest. Like everyone I've got to find a new way of doing things when what we would normally do isn't an option for very good reason.

My drawings for a pop-up olympic pool in our back garden quickly proved that I was missing most of what I needed - the space, the materials, the ability to build anything. And so I turned to my dusty yoga mat. I used to attend yoga classes in my late 20s and through my 30s, but have got out of practice in favour of swimming.

I remember my first ever Yoga class. Well actually I tried Pilates first but when I couldn't complete any of the warm up exercises I felt too awkward to return. But for some reason, in the Yoga class I could at least do something approximating the poses. And the class teacher was happy to let me get close to poses or do alternatives rather than try and push me into a pose.

And so my sun salutations this morning were my own 'hippy' version. And it was just what I needed. Achieving perfect balance between left and right when the two sides of my body aren't built the same would be a futile exercise. And so I work each side of my body as it needs, and I just skip the bits that aren't possible. The point is I'm doing it. And my muscles and mind felt the immediate benefit.

And I have invented three of my own Yoga poses. The wonky dog. The slanty plank. And it finishes off with the hippy shake (yep, sort of dancing it out).

What are you all doing to keep yourselves moving? I'd love to hear from you.

Stay safe, follow the guidelines, and do whatever exercise your hips need to keep mobile.


Freedom Trail Jill Pringle Hip Dysplasia

The Freedom to walk differently. Diff-abled on tour!

Today I walked the Freedom Trail in Boston. It’s a 2.5 mile walk that passes 16 nationally significant historic sites from meeting houses to burial grounds and a ship, that tell the story of the American Revolution and beyond. And I did it backwards (by this I mean I started at the end, not I walked backwards!)

Why?  Walking with hip
dysplasia
can be tiring. Or more precisely, for me, the time between
feeling OK and feeling like I’ve walked too much and need to stop, is a very
short window. So I’ve learned to plan my walk so I’m closer to home when I’m
more tired. Or at least closer to places I can rest and people who can help me.

It was wonderful to walk a trail again – it’s been 5 months since I finished the South Downs Way and I’ve missed it.  I was glad that today’s Freedom Trail was just 2.5 miles not 100! Not least because my right hip (the one that hasn’t been replaced and is also DDH) is hurting me more these days, I’m conscious of the pain in a way I haven’t been for some years.  And so I was slower than usual, my differently-abled gait more pronounced.  But I really wanted to walk – I hadn’t had chance to do anything last week to mark Hip Health Week and I’d just seen on Facebook that Steps Charity is 40 years old in 2020!

It was a beautiful sunny day as I started at the Charlestown
Navy Yard.  Sadly The USS Constitution
Ship was closed but the walk over the Charlestown bridge gave me an amazing
view of both the ship and Boston. I most loved walking around the Italian quarter
at North End.  The architecture is
closest to what I love about London (old brick houses, beautiful churches) and
I loved the buzz of the streets full of pizza and seafood restaurants and
people living their lives.  A few of the people
on the same holiday tour as me were walking the trail in the other direction
and it was lovely to see familiar faces along the route.  It reminded me of Sunday morning walking with
the Bearcats.

But the highlight of this Freedom Trail is actually the juxtaposition of the old and the new. The old South Meeting House built in 1729 as a puritan meeting house where Benjamin Franklin was baptised, or the old State House – right amidst the sky-scrapers of downtown Boston.  Just like me, a 48 year old right hip that doesn’t rotate fully, next to a newer metal hip that works perfectly. 

Together, somehow, they work to keep me walking, giving me the freedom to walk differently, wherever I want to.  


100 miles marker South Downs Way Jill Pringle

100 miles per year! My ups and downs with hip dysplasia

100 miles is a long way for anyone to walk. For me, with hip dysplasia, it feels like a very big achievement. Two weeks ago I completed the South Downs Way and in the end it took me 15 days of walking, over exactly 1 year. For experienced walkers it takes about 7 days consecutive walking.

Emotionally the weekend was a bit of a rollercoaster – not unlike the famous Seven Sisters hills that I tackled on day two!  When I set out, I felt excited that I might complete my 100 miles challenge and also nervous – it was the first time I’d tried to walk three days and I knew that even experienced walkers categorise the Seven Sisters as a challenge.

The first day I left Southease Station to tackle Firle Beacon; an 8-mile
walk.  Despite weather warnings it was a
cold but sunny autumnal day and I felt relaxed as I crossed the A26 and headed
up Beddingham Hill.  I have realised over
the last year how much being part of nature has helped me, mentally. A
real-life mindfulness app full of birds, trees, flowers, different smells and
importantly for me, sounds.  I’m very
auditory sensitive to my surroundings (I guess as a musician it’s not that
surprising) and the sound of the South Downs Way has been an amazing soundtrack
to my life this year. 

Just past the Beddingham Hill Telecom Masts I found a bench
with a view and stopped for lunch – just as the Heavens opened.  One soggy sandwich later, as all the dog
walkers scuttled back to their cars, I started on the path across Firle
Beacon.  The predicted weather conditions
arrived – rain, strong cross-winds and, unexpectedly, thick fog.  The promised 360 panoramic views of Firle
Beacon were invisible.  I could barely
see two steps ahead.

We can’t control the weather (actual or metaphorical - like
the things that happen around us in life or being born with hip dysplasia). And
I was reminded acutely of that as it became harder to fight the elements to
keep walking. Finding shelter on the top of the hill was hard. Everything
‘squelched’ as I walked, my pace slowed and my joints ached a bit more. The
only thing I could do, was just kept walking. 
I remembered that I’m lucky - I can do this. Even in the rain and the
wind and the fog, I can still walk.  So
many people can’t take walking for granted – which is what Steps Charity is all
about.

As I descended towards Alfriston I was out of the fog and
wind, and the rain had slowed to a drizzle. I was somewhat bedraggled as I
walked into Chestnuts tea shop below
my B&B
. My mascara had an Alice Cooper feel and my hair was more
Bridget Jones then beach-swept. My reward was the best tea and cake ever.

The next day I woke up aching.  This was a big day for two reasons – one, it
would take me over the Seven Sisters and two, I was meeting two more ‘hippies’
for the first part of the walk. An unexpected pleasure and benefit of this
journey has been meeting others who either have hip dysplasia or family members
who do.  Being able to share our stories
was great fun and it was lovely to meet such amazing women.  Whilst the ground was sodden and slippery
from yesterday’s rain, the Autumn sun was shining bright.  Karen,
Sam and I
walked from Alfriston along the Cuckmere river amidst lush green
fields, with the sunlight shining across the water. We made our way to Litlington
and then continued up through the fields alongside runners doing the Beachy Head Marathon.  This part of the South Downs Way is
exceptionally pretty and varied – including two sets of step steps through the
trees near West Dean.  They payoff was a
spectacular view of the Exceat Estuary – and the perfect tea stop to rest.

After that I was back walking alone, and yet I wasn’t.  The Marathon was in full force and there were plenty of supporters cheering us on in Exceat.  Since my name was printed on my diff-abled.co.uk vest I was cheered along by people telling me “Go Jill – you’ve got this”. I can’t explain how motivating that is; and something I’m so lucky to experience regularly as part of the Bearcats community back in Twickenham.  It wasn’t long before I had climbed the steep hill for the start of the Seven Sisters.  I am in such awe of the many people who were running or walking over the seven hills after already running 24 miles!  Many differently-abled walkers and runners sharing the same path to challenge themselves.

After the initial exhilaration of seeing the white chalk
cliffs spread out in front of me, it was extremely tough to walk up and down these
seven hills.  They’re pretty steep and the
wind and rain chose that moment to return in force.  At least the wind was blowing in from the right-hand
side (my stronger side) and not facing me head on.  I was clinging onto the hillside with my poles,
and a couple of times I was blown into the hillside.  This is where all my early training came into
play – the process of one hill at a time. At the top of each hill I just
stopped, sat down, and ate another energy ball or sandwich and took a drink.

By the time I arrived at Birling Gap I was exhausted and
once again, bedraggled.  As I queued at
the NT Café for restorative cuppa, a lovely couple started chatting with me. It
turns out one of them was a marshal from the BHMarathon and they kindly offered
me a lift into Eastbourne, for which I will remain ever-thankful.  It was lovely to reach my hotel, have a shower
and simply relax. Needless to say, I slept well that evening!

The following morning most of the guests at breakfast of the
Lansdowne hotel were Beachy
Head marathon runners and their supporters. 
A couple of people remember seeing me walking on the Seven Sisters and
it was good to chat to them about why I was walking. 

It was a strange feeling arriving at Birling Gap for the end of my walk.  All sorts of emotions stirred inside me – excitement, pride and also a sense of loss – my 100 miles walking adventure was nearly over.  I couldn’t have picked a better day and it was calm, sunny and peaceful as I ascended to Belle Tout lighthouse on the approach to Beachy Head.  There were very few people about and I was able to stop, sit and soak in the atmosphere and soundtrack frequently.  This time stopping not out of fatigue but just to savour the last four miles.

It was an unexpected treat, as I reached Beachy Head, to see an ice-cream van and my inner-child couldn’t resist a 99 with raspberry sauce, overlooking the sea.  Equally unexpected was the terrain of the last mile descending to Eastbourne – a narrow path through scrubland, reminiscent of much earlier parts of the walk, now over 90 miles ago.  The birds were plentiful and their song was crystal clear as I was well into my last mile.

After three hours walking I arrived at the end of the
South Downs Way
, just outside Eastbourne. 
It felt like a huge achievement, and I’m very thankful to have walked
100 miles.  I never thought I could, but
it’s amazing what we can do if we try.

It’s been an amazing journey – thank you all for your
support for me and Steps Charity.  Thank you for being there every step of the way
with me.  We did it! xx

Jill has spent a year walking the South Downs Way with hip dysplasia (DDH) to raise money for Steps Charity.  You can still donate here.


WalkingJill South Downs Way DDH

Want to join my last legs? Join WalkingJill in October.

I can't believe that I'm planning my last three walks on the South Downs Way! As 'WalkingJill' I have walked over 80 miles with hip dysplasia and have just 18 miles left to go. I plan to walk them over three days and since I've had many people say "I'd love to join you" - well, now's your chance! You can join me either on Friday 25th or Saturday 26th October - and you can just walk for a bit of it or join for a whole day. Message me before Thursday 24th Oct via the contact form on this site, email walkingjill@diff-abled.co.uk or message me on Facebook via @ WalkingJill.

If you can't join but could donate please do so via Just Giving here. Steps Charity will use your donations to help individuals and their families adapt to life with hip dysplasia, providing information, practical support or funding towards specialist equipment like baby car seats that a hip spica can fit into (WalkingJill's parents would have appreciated that!)

Here are the details:

Friday 25th October. Leave Southease Station at 10.30am (my train arrives at 10.07). Walk 7.5 miles to the pretty village of Alfriston, which will probably take me about 6 hours all-in. The route climbs to over 200m in the first mile or so up to the top of Firle Beacon (bring a packed lunch for the view) and then we walk downhill at the end to get to Alfriston. There are lots of B&Bs/pubs with rooms there and you can easily taxi to somewhere with a train station.

Saturday 26th October. CALLING ALL HIPSTERS! The first part of this walk is quite accessible as it's flat. Leave Alfriston (on the Tye near the church) at 10am and walk 3 miles to Exceat. The first mile or so is totally flat walking along the Cuckmere river, then the next 1.5 miles has two small hills (50m high) to get to Exceat. You can do a bit of it and turn back or join me for the full three miles - we're all differently-abled and can do different things and I would love to walk and talk with more #DDH ers of all ages and abilities.
After that it gets much more challenging up and over the Seven Sisters for 4 or so miles to Birling Gap. This is a famous walk because it's over seven steep hills! Birling Gap is a National Trust Cafe where people can pick you up.

I'd like to thank everyone for your support, encouragement and donations so far. I never thought I would be able to do something like this and I have loved walking the South Downs Way.

Much love to you all. From WalkingJill xx


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