One morning I woke up, and for reasons that would concern any medical professional, decided I was going to climb Pen‑y‑Fan. Not just climb it — oh no — but also tackle the Corn Du scramble, because apparently Slimming World has turned me into the kind of woman who thinks “a bit of fresh air” means voluntarily yeeting herself up Welsh mountains like she’s starring in her own survival documentary.
Pen‑y‑Fan lures you in gently at first. The path is friendly, the views are pretty, and you start thinking, Wow, maybe I’m actually outdoorsy now. This delusion lasts approximately seven minutes, at which point the incline hits and your thighs begin writing strongly worded letters to HR.
But the real chaos begins when you decide — in a moment of pure, feral optimism — to take on the Corn Du scramble.
Let me tell you: “scramble” is a cute word for what is essentially climbing rocks with the grace of a drunk goat. You’re suddenly on all fours, clinging to boulders, praying no one is filming you for TikTok. Every step feels like a trust exercise between you and gravity, and gravity is absolutely not on your side.
People pass you looking serene and athletic, while you look like you’re reenacting a dramatic mountain rescue scene without the rescue. At one point you question whether Slimming World should offer emotional support groups specifically for people who attempt Corn Du.
But then — somehow — you reach the top. And it’s glorious. The views stretch forever, the wind is dramatic enough to make you feel like the main character, and for a brief, shining moment you think, Maybe I am that mountain girl after all. You take a photo that makes you look far fitter than you felt, and you pretend the entire ordeal was “invigorating” instead of “a chaotic scramble powered by fear and protein snacks.”
And yes, it all counts as on‑plan exercise, which means you can smugly log it later while inhaling your carefully packed Slimming World snacks like the wholesome hiker you absolutely are not.
