Govember

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

We've landed in old Hobart Town, a quaint little place which harbours a horrible secret. For all its charm: its beautiful docks with yachts bobbing gently at their moorings, gorgeous old sandstone convict-era buildings and generally quiet, friendly demeanour it is never-the-less, the venue for the world's toughest half-marathon, the Point to Pinnacle (P2P).

Yesterday, Suzie, Sweder, Mrs MLCMM and I drove the course to come to terms with Sunday's race. This is my fourth year of P2P, yet driving the course still leaves me flabbergasted as to how the damned thing is possible.

But possible it is. The mountain will chew you up, masticate you severely and spit you out a bedraggled, pummelled wreck, but get to the top we will indeed do.

It is now Saturday morning, and a day of sampling Hobart's delights is in the offing, a relaxing preparation for tomorrow's horror. We're trying not to think about it. And yet, at the same time, it's also exciting the pants off of me!


MLCMM, Suzie and Sweder investigating the P2P course - at this point of the race tomorrow we will *not* be smiling.


MLCMM photographing Suzie photographing Sweder's back at the top of Mt. Wellington where the race ends.


What Sweder's back says.

Think of us, everyone ... it's going to be hell up there.