August 2013

[Sweder]

The turning wheel reeks of the whale and the whaler
But that's the way we all go
Cardiacs, A Little Man And A House

And so the shoulder turns to the wheel.
The wheel turns and the Earth spins, bringing Hobart ever closer and with it That Bloody Mountain.

Sixteen weeks to go before Point to Pinnacle. I trained for it in 2011 but had no idea what I was getting tangled up with. I do now. Along with plans to map out a Lewes Marathon (to be run in late winter/ early Spring 2014) I have all manner of incentives to get out there. So far this month it's all been short, sharp shocks. Off the beer, off the stodge, lots of green leaves and protein, an awful lot of sweat.

This morning saw another set of hill sprints, thirty seconds bursts of arm pumping, leg thrashing fury followed by the same period of wheezing, sweating and stumbling. On the last (downhill) dash I glanced at the Garmin to see 5' 16" pace. That's fast! And yet, several decades ago, Roger Bannister ran roughly thirty percent faster for just under four minutes. I held that pace for around fifteen seconds, or until just before I barfed up a lung.

   

It's all relative. If I were to set off up Mount Wellington now it would take half a day and almost kill me. The result will be similar in November, I'd just like to shorten the period of suffering.

On, on.