Thursday 15 September 2011

Betty Rollocks and her hairy sisters…….

I’ve walked the walk, I’ve run the run, I’ve hyped the hike…it’s time to get down and get dirty!
Tommorrow I shall be attempting to break both my knees, pull a few calve muscles, strain my quads, ping my hamstrings, blister my feet and get a friction chafe on my testicles. I intentionally neglected to mention dehydration, physical exhaustion and mental fatigue…oh and of course the remote possibility of death should I fall or get blown from the knife edge arête of Crib Goch….
If I survive  and succeed then I will be a stronger person in all aspects, except perhaps in the bedroom department where I will be a physical and emotional wreck incapable of erecting a little finger let alone a little………(only kidding Mrs Cheese).
I think I may be over stating this challenge a tad; I’m not exactly trying to climb Everest in a diver’s suit or trek to the North Pole in a mankini. All I’ve got to do is summit 15 mountains. Easy. And walk 30 miles. A cinch. All over 3,000 feet. No problem. Within 24 hours….aahhh. Non-stop….oh dear……!
Buy hey, I’m not new to this game of mountain endurance madness nor am I phased by the mental determination that will be called upon in those moments of darkness.. that’s the whole point!
If I think I’m stupid enough to want to run the Gobi March, and I know I am, then why not do loads of other stupid stuff just to prove to yourself that you really are a f***ing idiot! There must be some logic encrypted in there somewhere?
Bring on the mountains, bring on the pain, bring on the swollen hairy sweaty man glands,….bring on the ……WELSH 3000’s!!

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