This article inspired by Father’s Day and sweetie stops includes my regular collaboration with adidas.
Ah, June. Long light evenings, Wimbledon humming in the background, strawberries beginning to fruit, the promise of summer in every weather forecast. And with that, I’ve found myself leaning even more into the outdoors – yes, for adventure, but also for small moments that help me feel like myself. When life feels heavy, as mine does at the moment, the outside world is the one place that still makes sense. A place where I can breathe, move, notice, and remember who I am beneath everything else.
June also brings a trio of family celebrations over here. There’s my mum’s birthday, my sister’s birthday, and Father’s Day. And in this context, each a gentle reminder of the people who shaped me, and who gifted me my love of being outside.
My dad has always been the master of the ‘there and back to see how far it is’ walk, a phrase that made perfect sense to him and absolutely none to me, but still got me into my shoes and out the door. Sometimes with a smile, sometimes without (I know I wasn’t always willing!) – but we still went. Then there were the times we walked up a hill ‘to see what’s on the other side’. Hills of all sizes. Some I can name, most I can’t. That right there is probably the origin story of my love of the outdoors: curiosity disguised as a stroll in the countryside.
I’ve talked before (including here) about my grandad’s often daily ritual to ‘check the sea was still there’. As if one day it might have wandered off. I didn’t realise until much later how much I loved that; the idea that the outdoors is something you can greet, like an old friend. Just like it’s impossible to walk through a field of sheep or cows without saying hello to them as you pass.
Mum and Dad taught me to read a map on Dartmoor, standing in the wind with hair in my mouth and a compass that felt like a magical object. They trusted us with navigation long before we trusted ourselves. It was the beginning of that quiet confidence you carry into adulthood, the sense that you have the skills to find your way, even when the path isn’t obvious.
And then there were the camping holidays. My sister and I were always dispatched to ‘explore the campsite’ while the tent went up. It was a clever parenting tactic, I know that, but at the time it felt like we were on a mission. Like adventure. Like freedom. We’d return with detailed reports: where the loos were, where the nearest water tap was, what they had in the shop, who had a dog, which caravan was the biggest. Proper explorers, armed with intel.
But the greatest family invention of all time?
The sweetie stop.
Some families have scenic viewpoints. We had benches. If you spotted one up ahead, especially if the path was heading upwards, you could declare it a sweetie stop and claim a treat from the bag Mum and Dad carried. Mint imperials, spearmint chews, or, if the universe was really smiling on us that day, chewy bonbons. It was absolutely bribery, but I have never once held that against them. And I don’t mind admitting I still do this now, a grown adult scanning the horizon for a bench like a sugar‑seeking peregrine falcon. Some rituals deserve to grow up with you.
As I’ve got older, I’ve realised these early moments weren’t just memories, they were foundations. My parents used time outside to teach me curiosity, resilience, the joy of getting muddy, the importance of snacks, and the belief that the outdoors is a place you can always return to. And while Father’s Day can be complicated, tender, joyful, or quiet depending on who you are and what your story looks like, many of us have someone who nudged us towards the world outside: a dad, a grandparent, a teacher, a coach, a friend’s parent, a mentor.
If you’re marking Father’s Day by buying someone something, adidas have made a list of some Father’s Day gifts you may want to check out. And if you’re heading out on your own ‘there and back’ adventure this month, I can absolutely recommend both the Terrex Skychaser and the Terrex Tracefinder from the outdoor shoes section.
These days, I still take the kinds of walks that were the cornerstone of my childhood memories. I check the sea is still there. I read maps with a quiet sense of pride. And yes, I take sweetie stops, because why on earth would I stop now?
So this June, I’m thinking of the people who taught me to love being outside. The ones who showed me how to read a map, how to look for the sea, how to find the next bench‑shaped reward.
Thanks, Dad – for the curiosity, the confidence, and the countless ‘there and back’ adventures that built the outdoor life I love now.
I am a member of the adidas blogger community. As part of this, I receive vouchers to spend on adidas gear of my choosing. Thanks adidas!