Stroke Recovery

 Written badly : with a clear message v2.1 4/11/25

Stroke Recovery, One Munro at a Time 

Introduction

During the Covid pandemic, in the winter snow of 2021, at 68 years old, I found myself in an Acute Stroke ward in Worcester. A consultant on the ward gave me a sketch of my brain, that indicated that I had lost 50% of my brain, in time I might improve to 80% of my brain. I was in a serious situation. Apart from that, nobody talked with me at my ward bed side. I was deeply lonely. And thinking about a recent dark divorce was not the best idea. I needed to change my thoughts to happier memories :

As a schoolboy, I was passionate about caving with the Amersham Scouts. Many trips to South Wales and the Somerset caves with a sump 40’ long without air tanks, with a line, my hand over hand, to the way forward in the system, not the best thought, but it brought happy thoughts !

Then as a college student I turned to Yorkshire caves and their long, long pitches, using connected 20 foot electron ladders, steel wire and aluminium rungs and belaying polystyrene ropes, no better than hay bales orange string. Gaping Gill the longest pitch for me at 322 feet, entering a huge cavern, able to cover a cathedral dome. I loved the friendship and working within a team. Caving gave me my first taste of adventure

I started climbing on the Derbyshire Crags, then climbed all over the UK and the Alps. Wales became a big part of my life. September 2013 — Pierce Ferris leading, and I seconded the classic Cenotaph Corner (E1 5c), climbing the way of Joe Brown, the most technical, demanding climb in my life. 

There were other climbs, Mont Blanc and the Matterhorn in the 1970s — with a group of Scout friends from Buckinghamshire. Our trips often seemed to coincide with heavy snow, and each one left its own lasting memory. Those friends, and those moments, are carved in stone.

I knew I had to get back to the mountains. I took strength from Hamish MacInnes and his own battle with illness. He rebuilt his mind through his writing and it made me realise that I had to take my life into my own hands.

The Struggle

After a week, Ali Inglis of the Warwick Climbing Club picked me up from the ward while Covid restrictions were still in place. He supported me until he moved to Thurso in the autumn. I respect the help and understanding that he gave me.

Under an NHS contract, I was assigned a speech therapist, Lisa Thomas, for one month. During the Covid pandemic she supported patients tirelessly, and she has a real gift for explaining the best ways to help them move forward.

Through sketches, she explained that my ears and eyes were working fine — but the wiring in my brain was not. When I listen or speak in conversation, my brain sometimes decodes the wrong word, or I reach for the wrong meaning from memory. That’s my Aphasia.

Today, I rely on visual cues, written text, or lip reading to confirm what’s being said in a conversation. If I make — or notice — an error, I quickly change tack to keep the conversation flowing more naturally; part predictor, part corrector. It’s a pain in the ass, and it takes time and energy to process each mistake and correction. Aphasia can make me seem slow, but I’m a lot better now as neuroplasticity used its magic.

I was able to join a formative weekly day course at Heart of Worcestershire College. Focusing on your Brain. Over two years provided an understanding of the body and of the purpose of life that was so difficult to grasp. Including a structured hourly day diary method for us against fatigue. An ideal method to learn, with the regular old school day structure of time, class and teacher. Yes, a good  teacher that had the skills to bring the best from her class  !

It turns out my stroke was ischaemic — caused by a blockage in the artery on the left side of my neck, cutting off blood flow and oxygen to part of the left of my brain, causing brain cells to die. The damage affected the Broca’s area, and probably Wernicke’s too, which is why my speech is impaired. My banter in a pub after a day climbing is never going to happen, ever again ! 

Now that I understand my aphasia, it makes sense to put more effort into reducing fatigue.

This is my Attempt to Manage Fatigue

I became determined to reclaim part of myself :  To walk in hills as I did as a schoolboy, I needed to fight my illness. Eventually, would I be able to climb another Munro ? 

In summer 2021, I had a short walk through Eastnor Deer Park. Yet within a mile I became disoriented — struggling even to make sense of where the obelisk or Eastnor Castle were.

I wonder if people realise how many simple processes are disrupted after a stroke — how easily familiar skills are misplaced or lost, and how every one of them has to be learned all over again ?

To test me, Lisa and I decided to climb to the top of the “Matterhorn of Snowdonia” — Cnicht.

I prepared and re learnt navigation, a map, its scale, the data of height from the contours. The route, any escape route we might need. And a waterproof sketch, of heights, distance, bearing. I re-friend my compass and all my hiking equipment, rucksack, waterproof coats, clothes. 

Lisa and I had a great trip to the top of Cnict. The rain was atrocious and I came to realise   that Fatigue was a dangerous companion. At the end of the day, my stack of brain processes had reduced only to ensure survival. I know that I become a darker person, without a spark of humour to support the end of the day walk. My damaged speech became bad, but I managed to leave us with a day with positive memories.

By 2023 there had been two trips to the Lakes District, with Steve Bicknell, my old squash friend, who had been mountaineering, climbing, ferrata, camping and trekking for years. This year our squash friend Keith May joined us.

One clear memory was the surprise of discovering that I could no longer use my walking poles with the rhythm of the Nordic technique — once such a natural way to move. The coordination between arms, chest, legs, and breathing just wasn’t there. Another process that I had to re-learn.

By 2024, it’s time to attempt a Munro with Steve who had arranged a mobile caravan near the Skye Bridge — in Dornie, close to Eilean Donan Castle.

Looking back, it still amazes me how much he did: he brought all the food and cooked for us, chose every route we walked, and drove me to each starting point. He is one of the few that I owe so much, for helping me, this is a thank you, to all of you !

My Munro became a gauge

In 1891, Sir Hugh Munro published his list of Scottish mountains over 3,000feet. These peaks have long been a symbol of challenge for walkers. 

On the eighth of September 2024, the weather was glorious. We started a route within complex ridges from Glen Shiel that leads to a classic Munro, The Saddle at 1010m. 

The ascent along the granite rock forming the Forcan Ridge, was a breath of fresh air, to be above the clouds and clear blue skies above to the summit. A joy to balance and touch the rock as I move forward and upwards.

After a pleasurable scramble to the summit, the top has a natural feeling, a feeling of success, being part of the mountain. 

However, in truth it was gruelling. My arms and fingers are not as strong as they used to be, grip was weak, my thoughts foggy, and my muscles heavy with exhaustion. My friend, patient and steady, waited as I stopped often to rest. Reaching the summit was far more than conquering a mountain. It was proof that recovery, though fragile, was possible. It became more than just a climb as my Munro became a gauge.

But the gauge tarnished, returning from the summit of The Saddle, I was a pathetic walking companion ! Because the ascent had taken all my energy, my speech due to Aphasia was at the bottom of my brain processing stack, I needed some food and nap, fatigue had overwhelmed me. I was unable to converse and had no ability to discuss and agree mutual decisions, whatever weather, speed, wind, direction :  I simply followed Steve in quiet, along a descending track and navigation to end our trip. 

It was a real, bad, situation. But we have known each other and our ability for years. We knew what we were letting ourselves into and totally balanced my poor health and ability, all decided and agreed before starting out. 

And we were trying to use techniques and equipment to our advantage. I had pre-calibrated my Garmin ‘Body Battery’, with respect to my strength after waking up, to the effect of distance and ascent on our route we expected, which gave a good idea of my strength available for the walk. For Steve, my ability was not completely hidden, he had an indicator. Yet, after The Saddle it still took me two days to recover in our caravan. Steve summited a Corbett solo, whilst I simply sat for the whole day. But I did online research for any modern techniques to control fatigue. And it finds out that there is no real time facility to monitor my erratic stroke heart rate.

For healthy people, it seems around 30% or more in the UK have wearable basic heart rate or Fitness Trackers. Many stroke patients do not use heart rate trackers. Yet, Steve and I found it useful. I was on a quest to find a real time monitor for my heart rate.

Steve and I would return for Munros the following year. But I must improve my ability to be fair to Steve, I need to train my body and brain. In spring 2025, I committed to structured training. Short runs with an AI coach, regular cycling, and gentle hill work became part of my routine. The focus wasn’t on pushing harder but on managing effort, keeping my heart rate steady around 120 bpm.

Elite athletes train their minds for endurance. My challenge is different, but the principle is the same. In that, I’m not preparing for running across deserts or marathons — I’m preparing for life itself, day by day. I found and bought athlete wearable technology — a Whoop wrist heart rate sensor and Engo2 using ActiveLive head-up metrics glasses, which became my lifeline. 

The Whoop heart rate metric is responsive to my body reacting to movement, from one second to the next. I discovered that even simple terrain changes could send my heart rate soaring, triggering fatigue. By shifting my stride, steadying my breath, engaging my fascia, and quieting my emotion, with practice this becomes a sweet spot and I learn to stay within safe limits of fatigue. The difference lay not only in physical training but in mental discipline — in retraining the brain. 

12 months later and Four Mountains, Four Triumphs, I used my Engo2 head up metrics. The results were transformative, I climbed three Munros and one Corbett in a single week, each lasting up to seven and a half hours. Unlike the year before, when one climb left me speechless and drained, I could now finish strong, recover, and return the next day. Each climb became more than a mountain, a reminder of  patience, persistence, and support, even the toughest climbs can be faced with hope and pleasure.

Finale

In writing this, due to my Aphasia, I’ve had a little help from OpenAI — my grammar might be tidier thanks to it, but the thoughts are all mine. Every sentence comes from the same place as my steps. And Coach AI has helped plan training drills, and explore how to manage heart rate to fight stroke fatigue, fatigue is hidden, real and it’s sly. 

I never set out to climb all 282 Munros. That was never my goal. What I really want is a new hill when visiting Scotland  — a different skyline . That’s ideal and there are hundreds of hills other than the Munros. After my stroke, I needed to know if I could still reach the top of a Munro. What I didn’t expect was how much these mountains would become my gauge of stroke fatigue recovery. 

Around 100,000 people in the UK survive a stroke each year, and about 1.3 million are living with stroke-related disabilities. In simple terms, parts of the body have broken — in  different ways for each person. Every one of us is trying to repair, recover, and rebuild to the best of our ability. Yet there is a commonality we live with ongoing fatigue :  Cardiovascular control goes adrift. We lose a rhythm that used to be effortless. It's a complex, wide concept that needs support. Survivals are from the full spectrum of age, not just older folk. 

Where UK healthcare professionals and services are stretched and only can support for a certain length of time, to help recover movement and function after injury. Where to improve fatigue is seen as a luxury ! But I am convinced that reduced fatigue will improve function.

Australian healthcare does have clinics that run fatigue recovery courses — typically eighteen weeks long, often using Fitbit trackers, with formal sessions. Some are even available privately. Whatever the format, it proves there’s a real need to help people recover from post-illness fatigue — to become fit for purpose in life again.

Beyond the UK Physiotherapist Therapy brief to work within medical limits, for stroke patients, we enter the use of Coaches in special classes and personal sessions, to build toward life. There is a need for a new concept of fitness against fatigue, independent, kept away from the current services, to make it flexible and workable.

A marketing research of Stroke Fatigue Fitness across 1.3million of stroke survivors in the UK has a good chance of success, to provide careers for Coaches and revenue for leisure centres and gyms. Even providers of Sport and Exercise Science courses should be interested.

I’ve enjoyed using the AI Coach through the summer, but now it’s time to take the next step — training with a real coach. I’ve approached Malvern Active for winter sessions to improve my autonomic control, boost fitness, and reduce fatigue.

If reading this stirs something in you, don’t let it fade. Be part of the change — I’d like to see more people, professionals and the public alike, helping to raise awareness of fatigue after illness. The more we understand it, the better every stroke survivor’s chance to find their own way forward.