Time Is Running Out

Weekend statistics:
16.5 mile walks – 1
13 mile walks – 1
Hot pursuits by inquisitive cows – 2
Bounty ice lollies – 2
Drenchings – 1
Blisters – 4
Bus rides – 1
Train rides – 1
Hills summited – 6
Assaults with deadly weapon – 2
Sunburnt necks – 1

Saturday morning saw He Who Gets Up With The Lark bringing me tea at 6.20. Twenty minutes after six in the morning. On a Saturday. Just so we could “get an early start” on what would be our second longest walk together – the longest was walking home from High Wycombe back in the depths of winter. Do you remember that one? I’ll never forget it – mostly because it almost killed me.

I didn’t actually drag myself out of bed until gone 7 so ended up rushing about like a looney to catch the 8.24 bus to Wheatley where we started the trek across the countryside to Holton, Bernwood Forests, Oakley, Brill, Dorton, Ashendon, Nether Winchendon, Cuddington and home. This epic trudge took in four hills, the highest point being 184m or 603 feet – dizzying stuff! At one point I was trying to emphasise a point to He Who Takes A Lot Of Persuasion by jabbing the spikes of my poles into the ground in front of me; it wasn’t until he yelled out and started hopping that I realised I had stabbed him in the top of his right foot. On it’s own, that would have been bad enough but it happened only about seven minutes after I had mis-timed an effort to bash his pole with my pole and had accidentally smashed him on the knee instead.

The last 3 or 4 miles were tough – very tough. We were both flagging and had to make monumental efforts to get one foot in front of the other enough times to get us home. We finally crawled up our drive at about 6.30pm and had to be at a friend’s house for dinner at 7pm. Sometimes being notorious for being late for everything comes in handy!

As I was ready to leave the house at about 10.30 Sunday morning, He Who Needs His Beauty Sleep appeared looking tousled and bleary eyed. It’s rare for him to sleep late so yesterday’s exertions must have all but knackered him. I will admit to not feeling particularly energetic or enthusiastic but with only two weeks to the Big Event, I need all the training I can get. I set off to do the same walk we did last Sunday and what a difference a week makes – last week everything was blanketed with snow and this week it was all bathed in sunshine.

The 13 miles passed pretty uneventfully but the last two were agony and I am now sporting sore heels (with blisters), tender little toes (one with blister, one without) and all sorts of random aches and pains. I could have done without the hail storm which drenched me to the skin before I had time to get my jacket on and I certainly could have done without the cheery Frenchman who was on the latter stages of the same route with a group of friends.

At one passing he said “Every time you see us, we are eating, no?” and I replied in cheerful fashion then at a later passing I said “Aha, you are not eating this time” as my brain was screaming “Every time you see me, I have my knickers round my ankles because I think no one can see me peeing in this bush!”

I did manage a first this weekend – I pee’d without taking my back pack off! A greater feat than you might imagine given the possible consequences of over balancing (think tortoise stuck on its shell with legs waving in the air………………..!!)