Wednesday 26 September 2012

In training

I am hiking around the BMX track in the park with a 6.5kg pack on my back, overcome with positive thoughts, such as: 'Am impressed with myself!' And 'Am marvellous!'

In my 45 litre knock-off North Face backpack from Nepal I have:

1 cast-iron frying pan
1 cast-iron Le Creuset lid
1 Yellow Pages
1 Thomsons Local

I am in training for the wretched Raleigh weekend. Over the past week, I have volte-faced about 45 times.

It'll be fine!
It'll be miserable!
I'm going to cancel!
I'm going to do it!

Why can't I just be like Cousin Claude? She'd say, 'No, darling, it's not me. I need my bed and my hot water bottle.' Which is what my Voice of Wisdom keeps saying, loud and clear.

But then my Voice of Fear keeps whingeing on with its can'ts and don'ts and won'ts and shoulds, and then Mother chimes in with, 'Are you man or mouse?' and then I think, if I chicken out of this most minuscule of hardships, then I really am chickening out of life. Throwing in the towel. Waiting for the bus pass (not that Nick will let me have one by the time I get there).

And so here I am, conquering peaks, battling the elements, avoiding dog poo, chatting to fellow dog-owners (team building)... I really am getting into the spirit. Plus, I feel at one with my backpack! Tomorrow I might even add a couple of tins of baked beans.

No comments:

Post a Comment