The plan was that at least four of us from work were going to do the Point to Pinnacle together yesterday. Our boss, Steve, had a heart operation earlier in the year. He is now a new man, walking everywhere, a bit like a hobo - a fit, tanned film-making hobo. Some of us underlings were going along on this challenging walk to encourage, needle and if necessary, carry the great man.
In the end no-one but me managed to get their application lodged in time. Was this "plan" just a big con to trick me into struggling up a mountain alone on a Sunday morning? Possibly. Anyway, once I found Marcus's iPod that had been missing for months, I was quite pleased to be doing the walk without company, just a few podcasts to pass the time. No-one to try to keep up with or try not to leave behind.
It all went fairly well. I aimed to get to the top in 3hrs 40mins, and missed that by about 12 minutes. The last 2km were a bit painful. I knew there was a good chance one of my soccer injuries would come to the fore at some stage, and this is when it happened. It's actually a flattish part of the course, so I never felt like I wouldn't finish, but I wasn't able to surge at the end like I'd wanted to.
I got sick of podcasts after a couple of hours. I chose this song to play on repeat (to get me from The Chalet to Big Bend) because it is a real march. After a while I realised the lyrics were quite appropriate, although there was no "ice and snow" this time. I had to can it after about 6 repeats, not because I was sick of it, but because I just couldn't keep up with the beat any longer.
< Click here to buy the track or album on iTunes. Its ace!!!
We were squeezed into buses to take us back down the mountain. I was terrified my legs would cramp and I would have no space to straighten them out, but that didn't happen. I had had to park some way from the start point, and probably the hardest part of the day was dragging myself and all my stuff through the rain, uphill (again) back to the car. Sort of a preview of being really, really old.