Hiking and travel with pain.

I’m sure this will strike a chord with many of you in the “over 50” bracket, although you may well be younger. It can suddenly seem a little harder to heal after injury or illness, and sometimes there’s an added crunch in the mornings. Not from your breakfast cereal, but from your body when you get out of bed.

It’s frustrating too. You may finally have more time in your fifties and sixties to travel or hike. The kids may have left home, weekends might be freer… and then suddenly your body decides to kick back.

I was listening to the radio last week and heard a brief mention of a new study suggesting that, ten years after a knee arthroscopy, outcomes were apparently no different from those in a placebo group.

Now, as with all research conducted on humans, replicating the exact same study with completely unbiased outcomes is pretty untenable, no two people are exactly the same. It was interesting research, but it wasn’t exactly clear how many people returned to high-impact sport afterwards because they “felt fine”, how many gained weight because they didn’t return to exercise, or how many had underlying health conditions that may have worsened their knees over time. Human research always comes with a long list of extraneous variables.

First and foremost, I am not medically trained, so always seek advice from your GP. Secondly, I can only talk about pain through my own experiences.

I had my first arthroscopy in September 2022 at the age of 50. For the previous ten years I’d been doing high-impact sport: running 10K races most weekends, training during the week, and occasionally doing half marathons, all on tarmac. Add in genetics, I come from a family of women with various arthritic conditions. I also have vilitigo and rheumatoid arthritis, symptoms of which are stiff joints, sore and inflamed hands, knees and feet, am approaching menopause, am fighting my disappearing waist line, and diminishing hormones… and, well, here we are.

I had that first arthroscopy just two weeks after completing Hadrian’s Wall. Clearly it didn’t stop me, but I was in pain. At first, pain management involved paracetamol, a knee brace, K-T tape, and learning how to use walking poles properly.

My second arthroscopy was in October 2025, a few weeks after walking the Northumberland Coastal Path, and this time I was back on my feet even faster. At the time of writing, seven months later, I feel like a different person. I had lived with “niggly knees” for so long that it had simply become normal.

Then there was the time I was about to board a long-haul flight to Ecuador and my lower back decided to stage a protest.

I have an underlying back injury caused by being thrown from a horse in my twenties. Whilst I never actually broke anything, landing on my spine, followed by several pregnancies, carrying children, and all the other things life throws at you , combined with diminishing oestrogen levels, meant I genuinely wasn’t sure I’d even get on that plane.

So what do we do when we have injury or pain in our fifties but still want active lifestyles?

First and foremost: go to your GP.

I think a lot of us, women in particular, are not especially fond of taking ourselves off to the doctor, for whatever reason. I know I tend to think I’m “bothering” them or “wasting their time”. Not to mention I often can’t find the time. Secretly, I’m also a little scared they’ll either find something awful or tell me to stop travelling or walking long distances entirely.

However, if something is persistent, uncomfortable, wrong, or niggling, just go.

Most things aren’t serious and can often be helped with moderate exercise and/or pain relief. Pain relief doesn’t necessarily mean paracetamol or ibuprofen either, sometimes it’s a gel. I’m allergic to products like Deep Heat and come out in a hideous rash, so I found a brilliant physio gel called Prossage that does the same thing without trying to remove my skin.

My husband also bought me a heated pack powered by the same portable charger I use for my phone. This means I can actually travel with it and use it abroad, no microwaves and no boiling water in hotel rooms.

What worked for me, much to my initial disbelief, was cupping followed immediately by deep tissue massage. I was a complete sceptic, but I’m now happily converted. Apparently the cups bring blood flow to the surface, making it easier to work deeper into the troubled area. The lady who treated me literally got me from lying on the floor unable to move to boarding a 21-hour flight and climbing to base camp at Cotopaxi a week later.

With my knees, using poles, proper fitting boots with ankle support (because if you’ve torn a meniscus or have osteoarthritic damage, rolling your ankle can produce excruciating knee pain), taping my knees daily with K-T tape, and then elevating them with ice or heat packs at the end of the day all helped enormously.

K-T tape became my “drug” of choice for four years. I carried pre-cut strips everywhere so I could apply them the moment I felt pain.

Also, be reasonable with your expectations.

You may find walks with steep inclines uncomfortable, or you may need to shorten your walking days. Walking slower may also be easier. I live and have lived with commuters and sons (and a daughter) with exceedingly long legs and fast paces, so having to stand up for what pace worked for me was my inital challenge. Find what works for you. Most advice after arthroscopy seems to encourage returning to exercise, just perhaps not the same high-impact activities you were doing before.

And then there are the obvious things: hydration and nutrition.

When you walk, hydration matters enormously. Lack of water affects your joints and bones too, so staying hydrated is critical. Eat well, and personally I found a high-protein diet helped. Too much bread made me bloat and caused gut issues, which then seemed to put more pressure on my knees.

If you still have, or remember, your menstrual cycle, be prepared for injuries to feel worse in the lead-up to your period. Hormonal changes can affect ligaments and joints, and I still notice that old injuries and niggles become more pronounced around the time my period would have been due.

Yoga or stretching each morning, combined with some form of muscle-toning routine, also helps hugely. I am far happier when I’ve done even 10–15 minutes of yoga stretches and some light weights.

I think, for me, I sometimes forget I have a core somewhere in there, so I lift things badly and then wonder why my back has gone into full rebellion. Keeping my core strong is crucial if I want my back to cooperate.

And then there’s the mind.

We always forget the mind, and probably the gut too, when we talk about pain. Pain often becomes isolated to the “problem area”: the knee, the back, the hip. But getting outside, clearing your head, and learning to breathe properly are all known to help minimise pain.

I am currently 4.5 years on from my first arthroscopy and, yes, at the time of writing I am still pain free. However, I am not going to delude you to say that I don’t have moments when one or other knee tells me it’s had enough walking, but it’s usually after around 8-10 miles.

I walk regularly, at least a mile every day with the dog and up to ten miles at weekends. I’m planning to walk the Herriot Way this summer, which will involve around 12 miles a day (so a bit of a push), and Ben Nevis is also on the list for October.

According to the study I mentioned earlier, the mean survival time after treatment is 6.8 years, so apparently I still have a couple left to see whether they’re right or not.

In the meantime, I’ll keep walking, eating and drinking sensibly, trying to keep my weight down (not easy when much of the working week is spent sitting at a desk or with students), and sticking to my morning exercise routine.

Hopefully my knees will continue to see me over many more hills and vales, and my back will keep allowing me to board long-haul flights for years to come.