After a bit of planning, my second trip to the United Kingdom this year was underway. However, this trip was going to be a bit different. It was a walking tour, which meant that each day we would be hoofing it for a few miles in order to see the magnificent houses of Derbyshire.

This had me moderately alarmed, since I’m not widely known as an athlete. My favorite exercises involve running into friends, jumping to conclusions, and walking back ill-timed comments. Yikes! The detailed itinerary revealed that things might get a bit more strenuous than that. I might have to…heaven forfend…get in shape?

This realization indicated that I might need a whole new wardrobe for this sojourn. And since one of my favorite sports is shopping (my sister Billie always said that if there were an Olympics for shoppers, I would get a gold medal), this part, at least, looked like fun.

I made a trip to LL Bean to check out their offerings and found myself a pair of something called “trail shoes” along with some wool socks and a grid fleece jacket. I ordered some trail pants online. I bought some hiking boots. I bought a few shirts with built-in sunblock and wicking action. And some more socks. And a few more shirts. And a backpack. And a neckerchief that was supposed to keep me cool while I walked. The packages came daily.

Then I began my training. Walking a mile seemed a very unpleasant proposition on Day One, but gradually I got used to it. My handy-dandy Apple watch was only too happy to keep track of how many steps I took and how long it took me to step them. I was proud of my 20-minute mile. Look out, Roger Bannister!

I walked around my neighborhood since we have lots of hills and I knew I would be facing some elevation on the journey. For distance, I hiked on the nearby rail trail, which was paved and flat. But I knew that on Day Two of the tour, we were promised to be climbing an ascent of 313 meters, which translates to 1,206.9 feet. That seems pretty impressive, doesn’t it? Let me assure you, it was. Sadly, my neighborhood could only offer me inclines of around 250 feet. Things had to get serious.

I decided I had to climb Overlook Mountain outside Woodstock, non-ironically referred to as a “moderate hike” by my athletic brother-in-law Dick. Overlook is a well-marked gravel trail that is straight uphill for most of its 2.3 miles to its 1370-foot elevation. This is why it took me about 3 hours to make the climb. My daughter Liz and granddaughter Adeline practically skipped along by my side as I gasped for air and took lots of breaks. But I did it, all while carrying my backpack with my water bottle.

The view at the top made it all worthwhile and gave me a chance to recover before heading straight downhill and giving those quads a good workout. I was ready for my trip, or so I thought…