It's easy on a rainy Sunday to choose to lie in bed rather than head outdoors. But a walk in the rain is one of life's most beautiful and simple pleasures - particularly if you do it alone. I guarantee that you will return home feeling better than before you went out. Here's how to make it magical:

Keep it simple
Put on a raincoat and a pair of boots. Make sure you're warm enough. But that's about all the preparation you need. No-one cares what you look like in the rain. And that is part of the joy of it. Return looking like.a drowned rat, soaked through with a smile on your face.

Choose a soundtrack
On rainy days, despite loving the sound of nature, I like to walk with gentle classical music playing in my headphones. The volume is soft enough for me to hear the beautiful sounds around me but the music adds a soundtrack that allows me to connect to my emotions more - like having a first glass of wine, everything just goes a little bit softer, gentler and more out of body. I recommend Ludovico Einaudi as the perfect musical score.

Take a closer look
Notice things. Don't just walk blindly. Take your time. Slow your pace. Look at the different shades of green, the contrast of textures underfoot, the symbiotic relationship between plants. Stop and watch the birds, bunnies, squirrels and slugs, all going about their business. 

Touch things.
There are so many amazing textures in a wood - from beautifully striated bark, to downy soft moss, to tickling grasses or prickly conker pods. Stop, take a moment and touch them. Notice what real feels like, not man made, not manufactured. Just beautiful items handcrafted by nature. Revel in how beautiful this planet is. 

Tune in to nature's changing seasons. Spot life's lessons in them
Depending on the time of year you walk, there will always be something that nature is busy doing. Even in the bleak winter months where trees are bare, you'll spot snowdrops fighting their way through. As it is mid summer, I saw the last of the elderflowers, a life lesson right there for any late bloomers amongst us. While the rest of the elderflowers have already fallen away, transforming into berries, those late bloomers now stand out shining brightly against the green. No-one's judging them for being late to the party, they're still just as beautiful having blossomed a bit later than the rest. Let that be a reminder to you that everyone fulfils their potential in their own time.

Or Conkers, those prickly playthings that always hark the impending sense of back to school. Not exactly attractive on the outside, but beneath their gnarly exterior, they are shiny and smooth and provide hours of fun to kids. Don't be too quick to judge. 

Honour the passing of time
Whether it's a 450 year old stately home harking back to a different era, or the magnificence of an oak tree that has clearly been standing tall for a very long time, it's worth reflecting that while seasons come and go, together they add up to years of history. I like to pause and think about that, not just the changes that might have happened since that Oak was a mere acorn, but all the changes that have made me, me. 

I have walked this particularly walk on so many occasions - with my kids when they were little, going swimming in the river, walking and chatting with friends, walking alone - crying -  during very challenging times in my life, power walking to train for an event, walking hand in hand with the person I love. I sometimes wonder if each version of myself left a memory shadow on these paths and they quietly whisper hello as I walk past. If I listen closely enough, I can hear them voice their memories.

Free your mind
Allow your mind to follow free flowing thoughts about everything and nothing. There is no right or wrong way to think. It's simply about being really present in this moment. My imagination comes alive. Instead of trees, I see a cathedral of leaves more spiritual than any church. I see a woodland throne and wonder who might sit on it when the woods come alive at night. I picture fairies dancing on moss. And I ponder why the patterns on the outside of tree bark run up and down while inside its concentric circles.

​When do we ever get time to think such frivolous thoughts? And yet this is how we thought as children, not about mortgages or jobs or relationships, just about the potential for magic all around us. 

Lift your face to the rain, close your eyes and feel the tiny caresses of each drop as it drums on your face. Embrace the wind as it tousles your hair and breathe in gulps of its freshness. This is what it feels like to be alive. To be happy. To be human. To be completely yourself. 

If you haven't taken yourself for a walk recently, do. You'll be so glad you did. 

If you're a woman who loves to walk and want company (on the days you're not taking a rainy walk in solitude), join Glamoraks. Get the app and make new friends.

This walk was at Beningbrough Hall, outside York, a National Trust property and all credit to the grounds team for constantly maintaining the paths and creating gorgeous wooden seating. 

Start: Bridlington (parking at long stay car park near the train station)
End: Bempton (catch the train back to Bridlington)
Terrain: Cliff top coastal path - muddy in places depending on time of year. Lots of ups and downs
Good for: Bird watching
Refreshments: Plenty of places on the way.
​Distance: Roughly 11 miles

You start this walk in Bridlington. From the long stay car park near the station, head to the seaside, past the amusement arcades and funfair rides. This is a quintessential English seaside town, with an air of faded glory and the feeling that just a bit more love, attention and sunshine could restore it into something lovely.

But on the day I did this walk, it was a blustery, overcast April day with a hint of summer on offer. I wanted headspace, so was keen to get away from the people strolling along the beachside promenade. I followed the track that runs alongside the little landtrain, ferrying passengers from Sewerby Hall to the beach. A row of memory benches lines the other side of the path. I couldn't help but imagine that the people in whose memories those benches were left must have been the sociable type as they were packed in one after the other with plenty of seats to be had should you need one at this early stage. Just past Sewerby Hall you pass a cricket club that has got to have the most spectacular setting of all cricket clubs in England. Hit a six and you could well send your ball over the cliff top and onto the beach below. 

Leaving the cricket club and crowds behind, I at last had the path to myself. The sea to my right lay grey and brooding under a heavy sky while the chalk cliffs marched onwards to the north. I love the feeling of being alone on a cliff with just the circling seabirds and the occasional sheep for company.  The path dipped down to Danes Dyke, a pretty little nature reserve that at one point drops down to the sea. You can access the beach here and be free from the busier Bridlington beaches. Danes Dyke actually runs for 4km across the whole of Flamborough Head and is thought to be some kind of defensive structure from the Dark Ages or Roman period. 

Climb up the steps on the other side and make your way towards South Landing of Flamborough Head. As you follow the path, you will start to see the rock formations formed by coastal erosion at Flamborough Head, which is made of sheer chalk cliffs that have gradually had bites taken out of them by the sea. Take your time here and enjoy the waves crashing in and around the rock formations. 

Head up past the Flamborough head lighthouse. If you need refreshments, there is a cafe near the carpark too. Keep following the path until you reach the north landing, where once again you can get refreshments and a public toilet and not far beyond that, is Thornwick Bay, where you can access the beach depending on the tide. There are old smugglers caves and the famed Thornick Nab (a rock arch) to be explored if the tide is out.  And yet another cafe is on offer if you want a nice cup of tea.

Ignoring the busy holiday park to your left, keep following the path, looking out and back over the rock formations. Depending on the time of year, keep your eyes peeled for seabirds. All along this stretch of coast, the RSPB has built little bird watching landings from which to view Puffins, Gannets, Kittwakes, Guillemots, Herring Gulls, Razorbills and Shags. I passed a young chap who was packing up a long range lens camera. I asked him what he'd been doing. He explained that he was counting puffins for the RSPB. Apparently they have just two days in which the puffins sit on the sea, feeding, before they head off to lay their eggs. So time is of the essence. I noticed many more people all doing the same as I walked along the path. I did wonder how on earth they count a bunch of tiny black dots bobbing about on the sea! 

I took plenty of time looking at the birds from the various platforms before heading inland. There is a RSPB centre at Bempton with another cafe (seriously, no need to take a lunch with you for this walk). I then walked the mile from there into the middle of Bempton to catch the train back to Bridlington. 

A lovely walk with plenty of wildlife, geology and beaches. 

If you are a woman who loves to walk, join Glamoraks for free. It's a way to find other women to walk with, get inspiration and rediscover your sense of adventure.

I would never consider myself a brave person. I'm scared of heights and cows and caterpillars. I don't do scary rollercoasters, go in confined spaces or jump off high things. 

But I have decided that I want to take on a challenge that scares me. Many people will think I am insane for considering it. Others might shrug and think it's not that scary. I'm not doing this to compare my adventure ability with anyone else. I'm doing it to prove to myself that I can. (And to give me the content for a book, which I want to write.)

I have set myself a goal to not only do this adventure, but have written the book and become a speaker about how to challenge yourself by the end of of next year. And unless you set big, scary audacious goals and tell people about them, life will just stay the same. I'm tired of waiting for a magic wand. I'm making my own magic.

My plan:
To walk the Cape Wrath Trail. On my own. April/May 2018.

The Cape Wrath Trail is considered the UK's toughest long distance walk. It's not the longest. In fact it's only 200 - 250 miles. The reason the mileage is approximate is because there is not an actual trail. There is no lovely way marked footpath. You have to find your own way from Fort William to Cape Wrath, the most north westerly point in the UK. 

The way goes through some of Scotland's wildest terrain, boggiest ground and most remote areas. It is tough walking where every mile feels double that.

Not only will I have to navigate my way using a map and compass, I will have to carry everything I need on my back. My accommodation will be a tent, wild camping anywhere I can find a not boggy piece of ground. Or staying in very, very remote bothies (little stone huts that provide four walls, a roof and a fireplace, with little more.) I will have to carry my own food - there are not many places to restock en route. Access to water will be less of an issue, but will require purifying. Staying dry will be a major challenge. In fact, I can expect to have wet feet for the 20 (to 30) days it will take me (depending on how lost I get).

If I go too early, there will be too much snow/cold. If I go too late, there will be too many midges. If I go from August onwards, I'll come across deer stalkers doing a deer cull. And when I get to Cape Wrath I will need to ring the MOD to find out if they are practicing live drills or dropping real bombs. They typically do this in April.

Upon reaching Cape Wrath, when you are supposedly done, there is a long slog over bogs to reach a tiny ferry, which may or may not be running depending on the weather and the sobriety of the skipper. Once across the Kyle of Durness, I will need to get back home. There is a very limited bus service. 

I have walked 192 miles during the coast to coast. But I have never carried my kit on my back (except for one 1 mile walk to a wild camp). I have wild camped on my own once, close to home in sight of humanity. 

This walk will require massive physical, mental and emotional endurance. Getting lost, running out of food and crossing rivers are the three big challenges (the rivers can be particularly dangerous if in spate). I expect to cry a lot. 

But I want to know that I can find my way in the wilderness. And I want to embrace the solitude and amazing views. I think everyone needs to test their endurance at some point in their life. I've done other challenges, but nothing on my own. And frankly, why start small? If you're going to go solo, go REALLY solo to one of the last remaining wild spaces in the UK.  In the words of Rafiki from Lion King, 'It is time.'

My husband has kindly agreed to me doing this and some how I'll sort out childcare cover. I will take a satellite emergency tracker so that should I get into real trouble I can call the rescue team and so that my path can be plotted at all times.

I have booked myself into a Mountain Navigation Skills course for November and will have my silver certificate by the time I go, with possible additional training should I feel I need it. Plus I will be doing practice walks in boggy ground carrying a heavy pack. I do not want to have to call the emergency services unless absolutely necessary so I won't be going into this ill prepared.

I know that for many women, the thought of being alone in a bothy with strange men who happen to also be there may seem dangerous. But it is highly unlikely that people walking that trail are the type to go raping and murdering. I doubt they'd have the energy!

I have applied for an adventure grant (fingers crossed) to cover the costs and have got in touch with a mad man who has run it in 8 days, getting tips and advice from him. I have the maps and guide book. 

I AM GOING TO DO THIS EVEN IF IT SCARES THE SHIT OUT OF ME.

There. I said it. No turning back now.

So why should a mother in her forties choose this over having a comfortable bed and a nice holiday with her children in the sun? I do question my own sanity. But I also know that inside me is a secret adventurer. Not a very brave adventurer, but an adventurer all the same. 

Every single time I have pushed myself out of my comfort zone, I come back feeling a little more confident, a little more capable and a little more comfortable in my own skin. As they say, it's only when you get lost that you truly find yourself. 

What's your challenge for 2018?
Please join me in the Glamoraks group on Facebook to share any adventures you may have planned. They don't have to be a multi-day hike through the wilds of Scotland. Just tackling whatever is out of your own comfort zone is enough. Seriously. If you have never put on a pair of hiking boots and even walked a mile, make that your challenge. This is not a competitor sport. It's not about who has gone the furthest or done the toughest thing, it's about pushing your own personal levels of comfort so that you can discover just how remarkable you are. And trust me, you are remarkable. You just need to realise it. 

Next weekend I will be heading to a festival. I'll be sleeping in a tiny tent in a field with a bunch of strangers. I won't know a soul there. I'll be doing some activities I've not tried before. I have no idea what to expect. If I'm honest, there's a big part of me that wants to pull out of it. But I am going. Here's why:

Because it's too easy to stay comfortable. As we get older, we get more fearful, more used to creature comforts, less confident in our ability to try new things. And one day when I'm on my deathbed, I don't want to look back on my life and be unable to pick out memorable moments because I had lost my sense of adventure. Let's face it, no-one remembers the daily commute, that epic Netflix binge watching session, that 20 millionth load of laundry they put on. They remember the things that made them feel something profound.

Not all of those profound feelings are good. Some of the toughest moments in life are the things we remember most vividly. But the funny thing about humans is our ability to endure challenges and then reframe them into something positive. Unless you push yourself out of your comfort zone, you never know what you are capable of. There could be a whole other side to you that you don't even realise you have. It's just waiting to be freed. And that could be a magical discovery that changes the rest of your life. 

So I may not enjoy this festival weekend. Or I may have the best time ever. But unless I go and experience it, I will never know. 

This September I invite you to join me in #SayYesSept. It's your chance to step outside of your comfort zone and take on a challenge. It doesn't have to be huge or epic, just something that pushes you out of 'being comfortable'. It might not be a big enough challenge for you to even remember in a year's time, but each time you try something that pushes your comfort level, you will find yourself feeling a little bit stronger, a bit more confident, a bit braver.  And each step will add up to a bigger, fuller, more exciting life that one day you will look back on and say: I did all of that! 

Here's a list of things you could try this month to kickstart the journey to a lifetime of epic memories:

1. Go for a longer walk than you normally do
2. Go for a walk on your own
3. Go for a walk with a stranger. Use the Glamoraks Facebook Group to find someone in your area.
4. Climb a really big hill with incredible views
5. Go on a multi day hike
6. Carry what you need on your back for an overnight hike
7. Wild camp with someone
8. Wild camp on your own
9. Stay in a hostel, sharing a room with strangers
10. Catch public transport to a place you've never been - then explore using a map
11. Go to a group event where you don't know anyone
12. Organise a group walk for others - use the Glamoraks group for this too!
13. Try a new activity that you've not done before
14. Sign up to a charity challenge
15. Set a target to walk 5 miles a day for a month (or ten!)
16. Put a date in the diary two years from now to do that big walk you've always wanted to do - like the PCT, the Camino de Santiago, the Inca Trail, the Coast to Coast, climbing Kilimanjaro or reaching Everest Base Camp. Then tell people that you plan on doing it. Then start planning. Once you commit a date and tell people, it forces you to take action.

For some adventurers, these might seem like very tame goals. But for people who have yet to push their bravery or comfort limits in any way, these will seem difficult. Choose whatever level is right for you. But just make the decision to use this September to say yes more. If an opportunity comes your way, don't hesitate. Say yes and figure out the rest later. If you are a woman who constantly puts other first - kids, parents, partner, work, commitments - it's time to say: Nope, it's my time.

So are you in? If so, be sure to share what you will be doing over on the Facebook group or on social media. Just use the hashtag #SayYesSept and tag me @Glamoraks so that I can keep track. If enough people get involved I'll turn it into a video of experiences, so be sure to share pics or short videos about what you've done. 

Let's get out there and start living! You only get one life. Make it count.

Five years ago a man called Alastair Humphreys gave the speech day address at my children's school. He was on a mission to get people to have microadventures - a mini adventure that you can fit into every day life. It should challenge you and push you out of your comfort zone but still be achievable. 

That speech inspired me and soon afterwards I started walking, having my first microadventure when I set off walking 14 miles on my own and staying in a hostel. Since then I've gone on to have plenty of adventures, but I had yet to wild camp. So when I saw that Alastair was running his Summer Solstice Microadventure challenge, I knew it was time to push my comfort zone a little bit further.

My plan had been to go wild camping on the summer solstice (21 June) but despite having arranged childcare and having my bag fully packed, the Met Office put out a yellow warning for thunder, lightning, gales and very heavy rain showers with the potential for localised flooding. That didn't sound particularly sensible to be camping in, particularly on the top of a hill. I had to put my plans on hold and wait for better weather.

​Last night that weather arrived. Once again I packed and this time headed off, leaving my husband and children at home, all three thinking I was daft in the head.  My microadventure would see me do three things I'd never done before:
​
1. Carry all the kit I needed on my back for an overnight stay
2. Wild camp
3. Camp on my own

My comfort zone was going to be well and truly pushed. But too many women - particularly mothers and those whose 20s and early 30s are well behind them - spend their lives observing life through their kids or doing things for others instead of experiencing life first hand. I'm on a mission to change that and I can't tell others to do it if I don't do it myself. 

​But first things first.....

My biggest challenge with wild camping was trying to find somewhere to go. In England, legally you are not allowed to camp anywhere you like. You're supposed to get the land owner's permission. But that can be very tricky to do and it spoils the spontaneity of it. The advice is to find somewhere tucked away, out of view, don't make fires and don't leave anything behind. Arrive late, leave early and no-one will be any the wiser. 

I spent a good amount of time trying to find a suitable spot by looking at maps. I wanted somewhere remote, but not so remote that if anything happened I'd be in tricky spot. I didn't want to run the chance of bumping into people. I wanted views and it had to be not too far from my home in York. 

After doing some research, I found the very spot in a secret location on the North Yorkshire Moors. It was 50 minutes drive away, was a short walk from a pub/civilisation, but was remote enough to not be found. And it had stunning views. 

Next challenge.....

Here's what I took. You could get away with less:

• A 55 litre backpack
• A 3-litre water pouch filled (I'm slightly obsessed with running out of water - I didn't need this much!)
• A tiny one-man tent
• A 3 season sleeping bag that squashes down small and light
• A super lightweight sleep mat
• A tiny cook stove with gas cannister
• A sit mat (a vital piece of kit - without which I would have had a very wet bottom)
• A collapsible kettle
• A mug and teaspoon
• Coffee/milk/hot choc sachet
• Cup a soup sachet (I didn't have it)
• A bag of crisps and chocolate bar and a squashed sandwich
• A hip flask with cherry liqueur (very good for keeping warm)
• A glass of wine with plastic glass (I poured the wine into a plastic bottle to save on weight)
• A warm jacket (mine is brilliant and stows away in its pocket really small)
• A warm hat or head scarve. I didn't take gloves but should have - even in summer it gets cold
• A pair of leggings to sleep in (I slept in my long sleeve top and socks too)
• A pocket knife (my protection....)
• A book
• A headtorch
• A phone
• Toothbrush/paste/loo roll/plastic bags for paper and rubbish
• Walking boots and a change of socks (which I used as gloves)

I set off from York at 6.20pm on a Sunday evening and drove north, towards the moors before arriving 50 minutes later in the exceptionally quaint hamlet, closest to my chosen destination. I knew it had an Inn, but I hadn't realised it also had a tiny tearoom and shop, which amazingly was open at 7.15pm on a Sunday evening. I popped in for my crisps and chocolate bar and asked for directions. She pointed out the general direction to me and said I could park my car behind the village hall. That was handy to know as there is nowhere else suitable to leave your car overnight. I tucked mine out of sight behind the hall and set off up the hill. 

I began my short brutal walk - only about 15 minutes but straight up - before I was on the top of the hill with magnificent views on all sides.

I followed the path along the ridge line, looking for somewhere to make camp. I reach the cairn on the hill summit and noticed several dips off to the left hand side just before the cairn. They would be out of sight of anyone on the path and out of sight of anyone below. They were also slightly less exposed to the wind than on the very top. Because the thing about hills is that they're high up and therefore windy!

I chose a little dip that had a tiny tree for a bit more shelter and attempted to pitch my tent. This proved a challenge as the ground had a layer of soft spongy moss to lie on, but a layer of solid rock just beneath it, making it impossible to get the pegs to grip. But I finally managed it and rewarded myself with my glass of red wine and an exceptional sunset.

It truly was magnificent. The bright daylight had transformed into an array of purples, pinks, corals and golds. Every five minutes it would change, each more stunning than the last.  It hit me that the sun setting really is an artistic masterpiece that is available for free every day to every person - you just have to step away from your screens and head outdoors. I watched the wind blow through the grass, saw birds swooping for a late supper of bugs and heard their night time calls, while sheep far below were baaing to their lambs. It was truly magical.

Unlike an inside space, the great outdoors is always moving, whether it's clouds scudding past or long grass waving, there is a sense of perpetual movement. As the night sky darkened, it seemed as though the stars themselves were racing across the sky, but it was just a trick played by the clouds rushing along. I tried to read my book, taking nips of cherry liqueur as it grew colder, but my attention kept getting distracted by the view. 

Just after 11pm I decided to retire. It was a battle between my closing eyelids and my desire to wait until it got truly dark. But my eyelids won and I slunk into my tent and fell asleep instantly.

I'm not sure what time it was, but possibly 1am I woke to the sound of wind howling around the tent. Having pitched next to a tree for shelter, the wind sounded even louder as it funnelled its way through the branches. I lay listening to it a while, wondering if my tent would take off, with its poorly secured pegs. I must have drifted off again as I had a really odd dream about an adventurer (a real life one who I know) who was shaking me awake. In my dream I sat up and said, 'Oh, I thought I was dreaming but here you are.' We had a good long chat. It seemed so real that when I eventually did wake up in the morning, I was surprised that he was no longer there. About 4am the rain started to come down but the sound was soporific and I went back to sleep until 6am.

I woke to a very wet morning. A brief respite in the rain meant I could make a cup of coffee, have my sandwich and pack up before it started again. I just managed to get everything put away when the heavens opened. I bid a hasty farewell to my campsite, making sure I'd left nothing behind. The only trace that I had been there was a slightly flattened bit of grass. 

I headed back the way I'd come the day before. Any plans for a longer walk home were binned as the water poured down the back of my neck. I'd failed to pack waterproofs!

It was a brilliantly refreshing start to the day. Instead of chivvying kids into uniforms or sitting in traffic, I got rain pelting my face, sheep to yell good morning to and views of rolling green hills.

Hell yes. It seems much more scary in the planning than it actually is to do it. I loved going on my own as there is something beautiful about solitude. But I can imagine that going with a friend would have a completely different feel and would be a lot of fun. 

If you want to feel alive and come home grinning from ear to ear, go wild camping. It doesn't matter how old your are or that you're a woman (it's not just for blokes!). Go have a microadventure. You'll be so glad you did.

Watch the video below for a taste of what it was like. And if you'd like to meet other likeminded ladies who love to walk and adventures, join the Glamoraks community.