Nature finally let me pass, allowed safe passage and I completed the African stage of my Global Odyssey 100k challenge. It was my day. I rocked it.
Recently watching a documentary about an Everest ascent that did not go to plan I was struck by the cost of hubris. The climber’s desire and determination to be the first to summit in that season, and significantly, to be last off the summit that day despite rapidly deteriorating weather conditions was an act of sheer hubris and lack of respect for nature that almost cost him his life.
A not so cautious return from injury.
It’s an age old story.You get injured. It’s a bad one, crutches are involved. Painkillers are involved. Picture a running diva lolling with a ‘blanky’ and a pile of cushions. There are weeks (four) of enforced inactivity. Picture diva impersonating a cat on a hot tin roof. Finally, you get the all clear to ease back into training, but there is a small problem. It is only seven weeks until your next race, a huge kick-ass 100k with ascent equal to climbing Ben Nevis five times.
I am generally regarded by ‘normal’ people as a bit crazy, but I am in good company; there are quite a few of us ‘crazies’ aka ultra-runners. I am not sure why, you would not want to run a silly number of miles in extreme, exotic, remote and beautiful places? Why would you be regarded as mad for running marathon distances and longer in the Scottish Highlands, the Atacama Desert, the North Pole and Antarctica?
The chimp is dusting off his little red trousers ready for the Great Glen Ultra where he will undoubtedly put in an appearance or two, and may well run amok again flinging pine cones at us in the woods on the climb out of Drumnadrochit.