Didn’t make it to the pub. Did make it past the front door. So we’ll call it a win.

Two of my lovely mates set off on a walk this morning, testing a route for a night hike we’ve got planned soon. I was gutted I couldn’t join them, so I told myself I’d head out this evening, maybe get a few miles in, wander over to Crantock and reward myself with a pint.

Well… I didn’t make it to Crantock. Or the pint. But I did make it out the house—after only a few hours of overthinking, outfit changes, and gentle arguments with my anxiety. Honestly, I deserve a medal just for that part.

In the end, I did a very respectable 4.9 miles in 1 hour 22 minutes—not bad considering I got lost twice, and completely lost the coastal path at one point. It was there one minute, then poof—vanished under a jungle of overgrowth and “nature doing its thing.” Even bumped into a bloke doing the whole South West Coast Path who couldn’t find it either, so I felt slightly less useless.

We both gave up and headed down to the café to catch the little ferry across… except the café was closed, classic luck.

So I just looped around instead. And honestly? I’m glad I did.

At one point, I stopped and took a wee video of someone’s standing stones—I can’t for the life of me remember what they’re actually called—but there were poppies growing around them, and this little busy bee was just zipping from flower to flower like he was late for a meeting. The sea was crashing, the wind was whistling, and there I was, just watching a bee live his best life. It was weirdly perfect.

Usually, I walk with a podcast or a self-help audiobook in my ears (yes, I’m that girl), but tonight I left the headphones behind. Just me, the cliffs, and the soundtrack of birds, bees, and waves.

And then this one thought popped into my head out of nowhere:

When did I stop being my own best friend?

I used to say that all the time. I gave myself solid advice back then. Pep talks worthy of an Olympic coach. Somewhere along the line, I must’ve stopped listening.

Anyway, I didn’t make it to the pub—but I made it out the door. And today, anxiety didn’t win.