Maintaining energy levels on long cliff path walks

Why cliff paths drain the tank faster than the mileage suggests

A mile along the coast path is never just a mile. On a stretch of Cornish or Pembrokeshire cliff, you might climb and descend two hundred metres in the space of a single headland, then do it again at the next cove. That constant up-and-down asks far more of your legs than the flat equivalent, and the uneven turf, loose stone steps and narrow trods mean your ankles, hips and core are working quietly the whole time as well.

Add wind off the sea, sun with almost no shade, and the temptation to set off too briskly on the first descent, and it is easy to find yourself heavy-legged by early afternoon. The good news is that fatigue on a coastal walk is rarely a mystery. It is nearly always a combination of fuelling too rarely, walking the steep bits too hard, and drinking too late. Fix those three habits and a fifteen-mile day feels entirely reasonable.

Eat little and often rather than one heroic lunch

The single biggest mistake on long cliff walks is saving everything for a big picnic at midday. A large meal sitting heavy in your stomach on a windy headland will slow you down for the next two hours, and by the time it has digested you have already burned through the energy it was meant to replace.

Instead, think of grazing. Aim for something small every forty-five minutes or so, whether or not you feel hungry. Keep a handful of food in a hip-belt pocket or the top of your pack so you can eat without stopping and shrugging off your rucksack.

• Slow-release options: oatcakes with cheese, malt loaf, flapjack, a small pork pie, nuts and dried fruit.
• Quick options for steep climbs: a banana, a few dates, a couple of squares of chocolate, a handful of jelly babies.
• Something savoury: a boiled egg, a slice of cold frittata, or a scotch egg if the day is cool enough to keep it safe.
• Emergency rations: one extra item you only open if the weather turns or the walk runs long.

Sandwiches are fine, but eat them in two halves an hour apart rather than all at once. Your legs will thank you on the final climb.

Pace yourself on the steep sections

Cliff path gradients are short and sharp, often with steps cut in at awkward heights. Charging up them is the fastest route to a mid-afternoon wall. Shorten your stride, drop your pace and accept that you will be slower than on the flat. If you can hold a conversation, you are probably working at about the right effort.

Rest at the top of a climb, not halfway up. Stopping mid-slope makes it much harder to get going again, and your legs stiffen quickly in a sea breeze. Once you reach the crest, take a minute, have a drink and look at the view — it is what you came for.

Use the easier ground to recover rather than to make up time. Roll along the flat clifftop sections at a comfortable rhythm, then settle back into a steady plod when the path tilts upward again. Ten minutes of gentle walking on the level will do more for your legs than any amount of pushing hard on the ascents.

Drink before you feel thirsty

Thirst is a lagging indicator. By the time you notice it, you are already slightly dehydrated, and the effects — headache, irritability, loss of appetite, a creeping sense of doom about the next hill — tend to arrive all at once.

Sip little and often, ideally every fifteen to twenty minutes. On a warm summer day with a heavy pack, half a litre an hour is a sensible guide; in cool, windy conditions you will need less, but you still need something. If you are sweating heavily and your clothes are crusted with salt, add an electrolyte tablet or a pinch of salt to your bottle, and eat something salty alongside it.

Keep one bottle within reach rather than buried in your pack. Plan your day around refill points — village taps, cafés, pubs and churchyards are the usual coastal standbys — and carry a little more than you think you need for the last stretch, when the nearest tap is behind you.

Watch for the signs of flagging

Fatigue on the coast path announces itself quietly. You start catching your toe, your conversation drops away, you become oddly grumpy about a gate, or you find yourself checking the map far more often than usual. Treat any of those as a prompt rather than a weakness.

Stop, sit down properly, eat something and drink a good half bottle. Give it ten minutes. If you still feel flat, consider shortening the day — turning inland to a bus stop or a village is not a failure, and the coast will still be there next weekend. Wind and rain chill you quickly once you stop moving, so add a layer the moment you pause, even if you feel warm.

A simple rhythm for a long day

Eat something small before you set off, then again every forty-five minutes. Drink a few mouthfuls every quarter of an hour. Take a proper ten-minute break roughly every ninety minutes, and a longer one at midday. Walk the climbs steadily and recover on the flat. Finish the day with something still in the tank — the last headland before the car park is not the place to discover you have run out of everything.

Get that rhythm right and the miles slip by. You will arrive at the pub in the evening tired in the legs but clear in the head, which is exactly how a day on the coast should end.