The thought of doing a half marathon had come from events from years ago. The tradition of celebrating a significant birthday with a major achievement had been created 10 years ago. The second event that was a significant part of our 40th birthday celebrations was a group event. A core group of high school mates that had remained thick throughout the preceding 20 odd years.
All of us and our spouses turned 40 over the space of two years. We had decided that while this wasn’t to be be the end of life as we know it, we needed to acknowledge our 40th with one final physical achievement.
The whole exercise thing was softened by the addition of a child free weekend in Halls Gap. While we are a group that doesn’t spend a lot of time together, we have remained in regular contact. Anytime we had got together it was as if nothing had changed. Same friendships, same banter, same reminiscing, even same jokes. It was great to be able to spend some quality time with great friends, some of whom I had known for all of 35 years.
The feature of the weekend was to be a challenge that would test all of us old folk, physically and mentally. Absailing! Many of the group weren’t exactly adventurous, even in our youth, so the idea of going over the edge of cliff was absolutely terrifying. Right up to this moment there were still a few that were undecided if they would participate.
We had met up with our guide and trekked into some remote part of the grampians, got the gear set up and received instructions about what was required. It was decided that I would be first, as I was the only one that had done it before. This didn’t really help as the previous time had been more than twenty years earlier. Back then I had a different body and a different mindset.
As with the skydiving earlier, there is a time between, receiving the safety talk and putting on the uncomfortable harness, and actually doing the deed, that you get the time to think, “What am I doing here?” Standing on the edge of the cliff looking down at the rocks below, 40 odd metres below, the most difficult thing is the first couple of steps. The mental challenge to move from vertical to horizontal and put your full faith in the equipment and the guy holding the rope is no insignificant feat. Gradually you move from having the weight on your feet to having the weight on the ropes and your feet only there to keep you from hitting the cliff face. Gravity starts kicking in and you bounce you way down the cliff. By the time you’ve got to the lower edge you have the confidence to push off the cliff face and take bigger steps, until eventually one giant leap sees you landing feet first on the ground.
Those still up top had now had time to think about who would come next. Was it better to go earlier and not think about it any more or wait until later and build up the confidence to tackle the challenge. One by one they each came to their own decisions and a random pattern of people came over the edge. Some of them taking it on simply as another adventure and some as huge achievement overcoming their fears. Everyone of the group, even those those that had never done anything like this before, made their way down the face of that enormous challenge and revelled in the achievement. Some of them even surprised themselves as to how much they enjoyed it. Everyone of us went back and did it a second time.
There has been many an evening, over plenty of reds, that we have recalled the torment and bravery that occurred that day. I still greatly respect and admire everyone of that group.
Once again I found myself in Melbourne this weekend. (Legacy of having friends that barrack for Sydney Two of those that went over the cliff I mentioned earlier.). My run actually started at the MCG amongst the marquees, BBQs and early comers to the grand final. I followed the first few ks of the marathon course, a bit of a climb towards the city and round Fed Sq, then along the Yarra, a lap of the Tan, and back to the ‘G. All very iconic and scenic. I went the Yarra trail as I was reasonably sure the course would be flat.
There were hundreds of runners out yesterday . Maybe it was the grand final, or that the sun was out, but I suspect it was the fact there is a major run in two weeks. The runners were scattered between the footy fans, rowers, boot campers and a constant stream of cyclists. So many runners gives you confidence you’re not the only crazy one out there.
15ks yesterday. There seems to be a new comfort point at 14ks. It used be 12ks, but I can now do 14 before the monkey jumps on. 31ks for the week.
Running longer distances gives you plenty of time to think about things. A couple of conclusions I came to yesterday, I’m sure they’re not just in my head:
A lot of runners around makes it easier to keep your form and hold your pace. They may not even be going your direction, but it still makes it easier
Everything is more interesting when there is more to look at. No offensive to Ben Kenna’s dairy, but time, and therefor distance, passes a lot quicker when the scenery is more attractive
Running 18ks last week makes 15ks seem easier.
I can’t be completely mad, I don’t do boot camp. I’d rather run 20kms uphill than do some of the things I saw yesterday.
With two weeks to go I now have to start tapering towards the half marathon event. After months of trying to increase my distances, this will be a new challenge of its own.
12 days to go.
Run Muzz Run 