I never intended to write a blog.
I never intended to sit down and actually think about what to say and try and keep people interested in my ramblings.
It just happened.
Somewhere within me is a very frustrated and bored athlete. Someone who really does actually want to run with the wind in her hair, rain on her face and look like she’s not having a coronary in the process. Just one you say? Lol. Cheeky!
I’m built for comfort not for speed, not yet anyway and I am cursed with procrastination tendencies.
I should have procrastination tattoed on my back as it’s what has been keeping me back from acheiving what I want to acheive.
Bear with me - Somewhere within all this is the reason why I am running at least 2 half marathons this year. Somewhere...
I’ve tried this before but failed so what's kicked it all off this time?
Cadair Idris. Beautiful, dramatic mythical, awe inspiring....profanity inducing, IBS rocking, tear creating, sense of humour eroding Cadair Idris...
To a point..
I live in a sense of denial. Denial against what the mirror tells me and what my fevered little Sagittarian brain tells me.
"Yes, go on you do look like a Fabletics model and you can tab up Wales second tallest mountain. No sweat. Piece of piss girl go get it! Oh and for good measure, whack a rucksack on whilst your at it and give that Julia Bradbury a run for her money... she knows didly"...
I do worry about my mental condition, you’re not the only one... trust me.
Gorgeous early morning, early autumn motoring gently through the roads of God’s back garden. Fuel = Bacon and Egg bap the other side of Penyfan on the A470. All is jolly Coast & Country trailer fare so far...
Pheasants, Buzzards, Red Kites, Bunnies.. lakes, mountains, awe and beauty. Still good.
Ddol Idris Car park. Lovely. Beautiful woodlands dusted in autumn colours. Cracking.
Fit looking Fabletics / Sports Pursuit Models strutting around bedecked in Berghaus and Mammut. Yep - no alarm bells, yet!
Packed the ruck sack and off to trot. La, La, La.
Alarm bells didn’t even register even when Mr Fitty (Ex) pointed out the path on the tourist board emblazoned with the words ARDOUS in massive bold CAPS. Bells SHOULD be ringing but nope, nowt. Can we do the purple path G? No, this is the easiest one .. trust me..
Kiss of death that comment - trust me.....hmmmm
Now you think I’d be a teensy bit insightful here... Mr Fitty, ex PTI, does Marathons for fun, fine figure of masculine ability.. And Me. Yes the real me now, not "Sasha Flashybutt" my Fabletics alter ego but ME. A lady old enough to lie regularly about her age and dress size.. THAT ME.
"La La La" said the inner Fabletics model - you’ll just get a bit dewy and your bum will look amazeballs after it, so do it sista"!
Off we went.
I had a meltdown about 20 minutes in.
It's too high and I am going to die...WTF! it's like an Inferno. Where did that sun come from? Its Wales WTF! Why is it so rocky? What’s in this effing rucksack? Why is it so heavy? Where’s the top, I can’t see it, the weather is drawing in, we’ll need air support, I am going to die and my IBS is kicking off - great. It's getting lethal now, we’ll need a red helicopter, I’m dehydrated, I’m going to die and crap myself and be carried off the mountain absolutely stinking and be on Wales Tonight reported as the stinky Welsh woman airlifted off a mountain..some paramedic discussing rather tritely the benefits of BEING PREPARED! Oh God the humiliation, and its foggy, 20 metres visibility, people die in this, its freezing I’ll have hypothermia at this rate, is that a Yeti? Where's this monsoon some from..I see dead people, I am going to DIE!!!!!!
All the way up.
Thanks brain, thanks alot and Sasha pissed off pretty swiftly I notice...
A cuppa, a Kit Kat, passing Labrador pup and friendly bunch of fellow knackered walkers lightened the mood from impending death to industrial accident. Fellow middle aged lady gave me a knowing look of dispair.. Her hubby said they were going to Abersoch so she packed capri pants.
An hour or so later, its only 200 metres away, apparently..
Cue a scene somewhere in between cliffhanger and some epic film of old of some hero hanging on like grim death on the northern side of the Eiger. I have NO sense of humour.
The glorious mountain is a procreating, fatherless son of a bit fat lady dog...
I can’t do it anymore.. just leave me for the Vultures... I plead..
Crag after crag after crag all the same as the one before messes with your little mountain addled brain...
It's HERE ya big wussy he replied and there it was.
Sense of humour restored - ish.. I needed a few KitKats and a lukewarm Wayfarer meal first..
If I thought getting up there was bad.. going back down wasn’t much better. 400 metres or there abouts traversed on my bum wasn't fun.
However beautiful sunshines and the descent (just as ardous) made it a day to remember.
So what I learned from Cadair Idris - Hard work will not kill you. It may make you cry and question the strength and integrity of your underwear but you will survive.
You are not dieing when you are working physicaly hard. You are not finished when you are tired. You have more gas in the tank even when you think you are done for and you really do not know what tired really is. Exhaustion is something else.
Just have a break and put some fuel back in.
The view is brilliant at the top. Stunning and worthwhile. Tears are part of life. They are soon forgotten and replaced by smiles.
Pick a mountain, whatever it is and go for it. Everyday life is hard and some journeys are a bloody hard upward slog which never looks like it can be acheived. It can. The end is there even if the fog obscures it.
Oh and fresh air is bloody good for your mind as well as your body.
Oh and Cadair Idris (and Wales) bloody rocks.
Not content with almost dying once. I've decided to do a Marathon. Whingefest ahoy!
You have been warned.
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