TraceysTrek

Hello everyone. It’s been a long time since my last post, and almost two months since I completed my slightly crazy trek around Britain’s coast.

Firstly, I would like to thank everyone who supported me along my journey last year. Without you, I never would have succeeded, and I am truly grateful. Together, we have raised over £61,000, plus more than £8,000 in Gift Aid, for the charities I’ve been supporting. That is an incredible achievement. Once again, thank you so much. The donation page will remain open until the end of January.

Life since then has been something of a blur. Of course, there were celebrations — finishing the walk, reuniting with family and friends, and finally stopping long enough to let it all sink in. But alongside that came a much bigger adjustment: moving back into my house after more than a year away.

Coming home was far stranger than I expected. After a year living in Priscilla — essentially a small tin on wheels — my house felt enormous. I found myself rattling around in rooms that were once full of noise, laughter, and life, and were now quiet and empty. The silence was confronting.

I also became very aware of just how much stuff I own. Every room was full of things I hadn’t touched for over a year. That forced me to question what is truly essential, what is simply “nice to have,” and what had quietly outlived its purpose. Faced with it all, I felt oddly detached — and, for a while, completely paralysed by the scale of it.

Emotionally, I sank into a bit of a hole for a few weeks as I tried to unpack not just boxes, but thoughts and feelings too. Eventually, a realisation settled in: my house no longer felt like home in the true sense of the word. It was just a building filled with possessions.

So I made a decision — one that felt necessary, if not easy. I need to move on physically, psychologically, and emotionally. I bit the bullet and began sorting, discarding, and letting go. Some items went to the local dump, but most went to charity. It feels like the first step of my next journey.

During all of this, I simply didn’t have the energy to write. My body was deeply fatigued and needed rest, and the emotional impact of finishing the walk turned out to be far greater than I had anticipated.

As we prepare to move into a new year, 2026, I find it strangely comforting to realise that I’m in the same place I was this time last year — in North Wales, surrounded by friends and family. The circumstances are different, but the sense of reflection feels familiar.

I haven’t even read any of my blogs from last year yet — something I thought I’d do immediately — but I’ve realised I’m not quite ready. I haven’t had the emotional capacity for that just yet.

Added to all of this, my mum has been developing problems with her memory over the past 18 months. I’ve spent several weeks living with her, trying to understand what support she might need in the short, medium, and longer term.

So this has been a quieter period, but not an empty one. Change is happening — slowly, sometimes painfully — and I’m learning to sit with it.

Thank you for still being here.