Snowdrops, sciatica, and cake-stops

There was a time when I thought walking was too easy to count as exercise. If it didn’t require a shower and change of clothes afterwards, I couldn’t legitimately add it to my weekly tally of workouts. My perspective changed literally overnight last March when I woke up with a searing pain down my left leg that intensified as the day went on. Walking was no longer easy, or indeed, possible. If you’ve never heard of sciatica, I envy you. If you’ve first-hand experience, you’ll know what an absolute bastard this condition is.

It’s the same lower back injury as that suffered by Luigi Mangione. That’s how much it hurts. Luckily I don’t have access to firearms but I do have the NHS. With the help of lots of painkillers, an MRI scan, physiotherapy, and a few consultations with a neurosurgeon at Salford Royal, I slowly improved. Nearly a year later, I’m off the meds but still doing daily rehab to build back the protective muscles in my hips and core.

And the most important part of that rehab, according to my physiotherapist? (Shout out to Heather at Glossop Physio). Walking.

Apparently going for a walk is uniquely good for degenerated spinal discs because it squeezes out the bad stuff and lets in the good stuff. Discs need movement to absorb nutrients and flush out waste so the compression-release-compression pattern of walking acts like a detox, hydrating the disc without the risk of overloading it from high-impact exercise.

I’m meant to go for three 15-to-30 minute walks a day, which even with my slightly slack approach means I’ve got to know my local neighbourhood very well over the last six months. The churchyard, the chicken run, the redgra, and back again. “There goes that woman who spends all day wandering around,” say the imaginary observers in my head. I’ve given myself a get-out clause for sleet, but rain, snow, darkness, a massive case of CBA – none are a valid excuse. Come spring, I’ll be glad of this prescription – I love the great outdoors – but right now, in the midst of a very ‘mid’ winter (it’s just mud, litter and dog dirt out there) I’m kind of over it.

So to add a bit of enthusiasm into my outings, I’ve resorted to one of the tricks parents use to encourage small children to go for a walk. I’ve turned them into a quest. And the treasure I’m looking for at the moment is snowdrops.

These bell-shaped little white flowers are ‘the’ first sign of spring in many people’s minds. When we see a clutch of them peeping out of the earth, it tells us life is returning to our barren, frozen land and better times are coming. They look delicate but they’re actually very resilient. Snow and icy temperatures won’t kill them. A spinal disc injury won’t keep them down. They’re nature’s way of saying, I’m back.

If you want a bit of flower-themed comeback energy in your life, here’s my guide to four places to find snowdrops in Manchester – plus a recommended cafe near each one because everything I do needs to have a little sweet treat at the end of it.

Look out for this column next month when I’ll be writing about another way of staying active with suggestions of where to go to refuel afterwards.