Last year's start. Please don't let it look like this tomorrow. |
So tomorrow morning (or this morning if you get this by
email- thank you oh subscribers), I am doing Coastrek. For the second time.
Last year the weather was cyclonic. Of our 4 member team, one had a (nearly)
broken toe and one had just recovered from tonsillitis.
Our broken toed champion crossed the line with us, turned
around after 100m and became our support crew.
At the 15km mark the tonsillitis returned suddenly and our poor team
mate K was carted away with a temperature of 39.
It was just me and C for 35km. We survived.
Just.
Our smiles are fixed, our eyes are staring. We are afraid. |
This year C is support crew and both the girls who had to
pull out last year are back with a vengeance, all bones intact, tonsils removed (drastic but effective) and determined to finish. Another good
mate has joined the team and apart from loving their company, I have no idea
why I’m doing it again. Maybe just to
experience the walk in conditions other than cyclonic.
But honestly, I’m a little frightened.
And knowing what I know, having done it once before, this is
what I’m afraid of:
I’m afraid it will rain all day like it did last year.
I’m afraid of having really, really wet feet for hours and
hours again.
I’m afraid of experiencing a repeat of the ‘ring of fire’
from last year.
I’m afraid of the beaches.
We didn’t have to do the long one last year because the tide was too
high. Storm surge I think was the
official term.
I’m afraid of wanting to pull out. Because while I’m not hardcore, I’m not
totally soft.
I’m afraid of blisters.
Because my feet aren’t as calloused as they were last year because I
haven’t trained nearly as much.
I’m afraid we’ll be walking in the dark at the end.
I’m afraid I won’t sleep tonight.
Last year's ending. Note Issy hanging on tight. Don't let the smiles fool you, we were knackered. |
I’m afraid of the last 20km, because while they are the
least strenuous, they are the biggest mental challenge.
By this time tomorrow (it’s 5pm Thursday as I write this),
we will be somewhere between Manly and Clontarf (I hope). Our families will come and wave near Clontarf
Marina. This is a big psychological lift
we will need badly by that point.
And in an utterly shameless plug, here is the link to myfundraising page. If you wanted to throw
some money at Fred Hollows to help kids in the third world regain their sight
in a simple procedure, this is the place and now is the time.
Not a bad place to throw your money, and not a bad cause to
walk for.
Massive thanks to everyone who has already sponsored us.
Massive thanks to everyone who has already sponsored us.
Wish us luck. And no chafing or blisters.