Higher, Higher, Faster, Faster...You Tenzing B**t**ds

Phewwweeeeyyy.

Since the last time I posted, the Tenzing Juggernaut has been put through it's post Christmas paces - We've been fired-up, gunned, tuned-up , greased, tinkered with "under the bonnet" (!), kicked in the Puds and made all together more damn hungry that we were before; absolutely nothing to do with the pub being shut, either.

Last Saturday we descended on to G-Unit's house in rural Oxfordshire for a unknown get-together and an unknown workout, held in an unknown location; the details of which can not be disclosed. Sufficed to say that the cage in the The Deer Hunter was a Butlins Clam-Bake compared to this. A cross country run got the blood pumping, some had blood pumping slightly more than others and the run stretched on for many miles interspersed with cardio activity which had many of us face down, in the cow sh*t, gulping for air.

Next, we were jumping into the cars to said secret location for further close examination of where we were in our fitness. Serious Hard work. The sweat combined with some anger and, in some instances, blood was literally seeping down the walls of our "secret location" as relentless shuttle sprints took place followed by acute, cardio activity which basically started at 2pm and finished at 7pm. 

Our thanks must go to Gun Sgt XXX and Staff Sgnt XXX of XXXXXXXXXXX Battalion for putting us through what was probably the best way to lose weight since the Guillotine. This was also a test on Tenzing's resolve and being able to handle intense pressure in a specially designed programme of activity, originally, as we discovered, designed for the French Foreign Legion and to see how the head-cogs work whilst being put to the test under constricting conditions. A resounding success would be my verdict and an excellent lesson. I'm glad we did it but I'm glad I can at least feel one of my legs now. I just hope Hillary have put themselves through similar programmes; I'm sure that they have.

The following day was a slightly more relaxed affair; most of us slipping into unconsciousness at about midnight the night before with one or two of us crying ourselves to sleep. G-Man had the Snorkers under the Old George Formby early doors and once these were wolfed down it was into the customary 4X4's for a yomp, up and over a particular section of the Chilterns. On "Maps" were G-Man and Kinsey and the rest followed up, taking the air and discussing Tooves' ice cream from the night before and what the waitress had to "flick" if he didn't eat it, or something like that. Our aim was to yomp, at a good lick, for about 30km and to be on the road Home for about 4pm, dispersing in our various directions. The day was great fun and hard work combined. Several times we came across deserted Pikey campsites that just simply reeked of teen slasher movies ; Tooves was quickly and ceremoniously put on "Point" for these inbred-ly tricky sections; so should the anticipated "Leatherface" turn up with his chainsaw and unfortunate facial rash, we could offer Tooves up as the Starter and the rest of us could run for it. 

I wanted to follow Butler as he had the wine-gums.

Anyone who has ever walked sections of the Chilterns will know that there is no in-between here. It's either Fenland flat or completely vertical and some of the "up" sections of the yomp were furiously intense. One climb that led us up to Bledlow Ridge CC (a great club by the way and one my club Preston CC plays the last day of their annual tour) was very hard work and it gave us an idea of what your legs may feel like; this combined with the oxygen depletion we will experience gave us an idea, albeit small, into what conditions over certain sections could be like. Another plus is the amount to see in the area - landscape, wildlife, etc. The countryside is about as good as inland Southern England will be able to throw at you. Red Kites were bred by the RSPB and released here a few years ago and there are literally hundreds now gli..zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz Sorry, sent myself off then.

 

Anyway, it's pretty stunning and I would recommend a hike if the desire takes you one day. You must also go and see the "Christmas Decorations" house from Hell itself; that nestles in Beacons Bottom. The property that single handledly brought about the housing crash, the Great Depression and sunk the Titanic.

http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?hl=en&rlz=1G1GGLQ_ENUK317&ei=eh2oSaa8GYS2jAf7_5n0Dw&resnum=1&q=piddington+stokenchurch+map&um=1&ie=UTF-8&split=0&gl=uk&ei=fR2oSYPMLtSujAeBgbXbDw&sa=X&oi=geocode_result&resnum=1&ct=title

Our idea for a pub lunch hit some unexpected turbulence as we made our way from pub to pub to pub due to unforseen people issues and, finally, we stumbled upon a quaint little place; nestled off the road; with a fine selection of spring ales, oak beams that one had to duck underneath, some old poachers blowing roll-up smoke in each others face in the corner, a game of cribbage in the gloomy, comfortable snug and Romany Folk rubbing the communal Rubbings - actually it was an Indian "all-you-can-force-feed-yourself" buffet called the Mowchak, which , in hindsight, was just what the Doctor ordered. Forget your choice of Roasts with accompanying side order of vegetables - the Lads wanted luke-warm Bhuna's, ........and pronto.

A great weekend and thanks to G-Man for getting this sorted and for letting us bludge on his floor for the weekend. I think those that could make it found it really useful and a great opportunity to get to know each other a little more and put "everything" through some serious pain.

Last Tuesday the Everest Test had its Umpires Exam back at Caterham School. Stories have bounded around the various email systems of the six of us, all week. Due to the trains being even more inefficient than usual, I never made it. The following morning my apologies were sent to the five that did make it. Apparently, it wasn't the comfortable walk in the park that we all thought it would be and from what I can gather; it was very tough. It seems that when the Teachers on the course kept on saying "This will never happen" and, " Don't worry, I have only ever seen this happen once in 100 years of umpiring", what they actually meant was, "make sure you learn this bit backwards as 99.7% of the exam will be based on the ludicrous piece of"shammy" law that never, repeat, never ffking happens". It seems that this caught some of us unawares, unsurprisingly. Obviously, in hindsight, I now know little about what to expect and I am now booked into a similar exam far more locally to me on the 10th March. Fingers crossed.

This coming weekend is a rare chance to catch-up with everything else, which I am looking forward to. I will take my daughters swimming and within 20 minutes will probably wish I was being beaten with a sh**ty stick again, half way to hell, as I was the week before, no doubt. A "shin-splint" has kept me off serious work-outs this week but I will back on the horse next week and the ever omnipresent Bath Half still looms.

On a more sombre note, I received some bad news while away last weekend. My cricket club lost a real friend and close supporter over the weekend after a short illness, which I think has knocked us all a little as far as I can gather, so I will be catching up with members of the club too. The Funeral is on the 9th March so I have made my apologies for my absence on the 9th.

Next Sunday, Tenzing will be seeing how good Mike Preston's cooking is.

Footnote - we have also just been informed that ITN will be sending a cameraman on the expedition and there will be regular slot on the nightly ITN news while we are away. Sensational.

Keep you posted.

The Umpire Strikes Back.....

Last weekend saw Myself, Cuzza, Hillsy, Hillsy's Dad, Paola, Helen and CBN attend school for the first time in many years to learn how to become umpires and all promptly fell asleep for two days, dribbling into our little work booklets.






Sorry. A brisk start from yours truly last Saturday meant I was on the road by 7am, hoping to beat the Saturday football hooligans on the M1 en-route to various London football stadiums to get arrested for crimes against hairdressing. What I thought would be the journey from hell what with the M1 widening schemes, Heathrow Airport and its usually immense traffic chaos and the M25 just being the M25, actually turned out to be like a casual punt around the Cambridge Backs quaffing a summery ale and the journey that I anticipated to be well over 2 hours to Caterham actually took me just over the hour. This of course meant I had to kill about an hour in the various car parks and public amenities (!) in Caterham.

After drinking a considerable amount of freeze dried coffee and eating enough biscuits to constitute breakfast I met up with the others, after brief catch-ups and the shaking of hands we all pinned our little name badges on. It was going to be one of those weekends. Happy Clappy Umpiring...................................... Excellent.

Lesson One - How to put on an umpiring coat and humanoid evolutionary movement theory - How to walk towards the Middle - the European Left Foot / Right Foot Method.

Any Questions? ..........................................and there was.

We studied everything. Everything.

How to enjoy umpiring?, how to be an umpire?, how to stand like an umpire?, what a ball is?, what hat should I wear?, bails; wood-whittling genius or cricketing necessity?, what's an over?, what's an under? How wide should my popping crease be? Whats a popping crease?, the lot.

In fairness, it was a course designed to crash through the rudiments of umpiring and what we may expect on the field of play when a judgement may need to be called for; and because of this it proved to be useful. Admittedly, some of the examples discussed were so far away from the realms of any human possibility that it would be more likely that play would be stopped due to an imminent stampede of Giraffe, hurtling across the square. Despite the tutors saying point blank that "this never happens in reality" many, many, many times it didn't stop several fellow members of the "Blue" team including False Teeth Guy, Grey Drab Man, Hard of Hearing Bloke and Mr Repeater asking the most insane questions I have, simply, ever heard.

Tutor Andrew - "It's a no ball when the bowler decides to bowl from around the wicket having already declared to the umpire that he will be coming over the wicket, OK?"

FTG - "Sorry Andrew, can, can, um, can you explain that again."

Tutor Andrew - "Certainly FTG, if the bowler says he will be bowling right arm over and he then decides to approach the wicket from around the wicket without declaring it to the umpire; you, as that umpire should say, "No Ball" in an authoritative and audible manner towards the Scorers holding out one arm".

FTG - "OK, Thanks. Got it. Sorry, um, what if the bowler then decides to creep up behind the umpire on his tip-toes like a black and white villain that's just tied his c*ck to a railway track and bowls the bowl over the umpires head. Surely, he's still over the wicket, as he's bowled, um, like ...over the wicket".

Tutor Andrew - "Errr, not sure that would really happen in reality, FTG."

Grey Drab Man - "It might. And what if the non-striker turning for his second run was flattened by a falling grand piano, would the second run count as they'd have crossed"

Hard of Hearing Bloke - "What was the original question, please?"

Mr Repeater - "What was the original question, please, yes, please?"

FTG - "Um, also, what happens if square leg's arms fall off and he trips over them in attempt to stop a second run; is that Obstructing the Field?"

Mr Repeater - "Obstructing the field, yes."

Hard of Hearing Bloke - "What was that?"

Tutor - "Sorry everyone, which questions are we talking about?".

Mr Repeater "Yes, which one?".

Hard of Hearing Bloke - "Hmm?"

Grey Drab Man - "the one that if one of the fielding team is standing on a boundary fence (seriously) and jumps off the fence and catches the ball in mid-flight and teeters on landing so that the ball, still under control, has been carried over said fenceline; does that consitute a 6 Andrew?............... Andrew?........................... Andrew?."

FTG - "So hiding behind the Umpire and bowling over the Umpire's head, isn't legal then? I don't think I agree with that"

Tutor Andrews head had exploded several minutes ago.

I think I saw Cuzza climbing out of the classroom window at that point obviously trying to see if a jump from the 3rd floor was a. possible and b. worth the pain.

As Hillsy, Paola and CBN were in the "Orange" team, I wasn't sure whether they were having the same questions and answer sessions, but I am sure they were.

LBW's and No Balls, we were advised, will constitute a significant part of the exam (which I had better pass now by the way) so this area was studied at some length and the tutors did try and make sure we were all clear as much as possible on something that basically boils down to someones ability to form an opinion. I must say that there was quite a lot of good stuff in this bit and I think, whoever gets the coat on the Mountain, that quick on the draw is probably the only way to overcome any match day nerves. Basically, if it hits the pad, you're probably going to be taking an early shower.

We were then given a practical demonstration of what an umpire should be prepared for and what they should carry in a little, belt-holstered, "Man-Bag". Bails, 3 of. Heavy Bails, 3 of. 6 coins, plus 1 extra of. 1 pencil, pointed. 1 piece of card, white. 1 Towel, John Smiths variety. Ball Gauge, What? 1 copy of the MCC rules, thumbed. One semi-automatic Heckler & Koch sub-machine gun, 1 small dachshund, 1 penknife, 1 complete works of William Shakespeare, fruitcake and bog-roll. That should just about cover all eventuality we are likely to encounter.

We were also given advice on how to keep the Skippers moving along and getting the game organised and what to do if only one official umpire is present. Important issues that face clubs everywhere, every week in the summer. In my experience of playing club cricket for 20 years, the idea of getting a player to do the umpiring from the other end usually ends in tears. It simply wouldn't be English club cricket without the Square Leg ump, puffing away on a Benson and Hedges, scratching his nuts in board shorts and flip-flops, texting or playing Jenga on his mobile phone, chucking various sh*t found on the floor at the facing batsmen as he receives the delivery or, quite simply, looking elsewhere and picking his nose when that all important, match-deciding stumping happens. That, right there, makes English club so cricket bloody brilliant.

Long story short; we all managed to do well on the mock exam in preparation for the final exam next Tuesday, back in Caterham.

Even though it had its moments, the course was informative, was useful and is a necessary requirement if we are to be successful in Nepal in April. Thanks to the Tutors that gave up a weekend to teach something that is obviously key to keeping league, club and kids cricket alive. Being "in charge" of a cricket club and an active cricket coach, I know that club cricket survives only by the willingness of people to volunteer and help provide these services. I just wish I had a recording of some of the most insane questions you are ever likely to hear, so that you could hear them for yourself. I am very glad I had the company in the shape of the other Everest guys and girls and that hopefully we shall pull together and, by hook or by crook, pass on Tuesday.

Next Stop, Oxford.

Keep you informed

Fried Eggs, Gorillas and The Vicar of Dibley,

It's been a pretty intense few weeks since my last posting. The Fun-Filled Fantasy Farm Paintathlon was couple of weeks since now and there has been several other events to fill the Everest Diary.

The weekend after the fun at Kinsey's Farm (see last post), the Hillary Team set out for Dartmoor to bond with each other, touch each other, fly some kites, fry some eggs and dress up like a Gorilla in the hope that this will surpass the Team Tenzing cricketing juggernaut that continues to rev it's engines. Dartmoor is a pretty wild and hairy place at the best of times, and so are the people that live there usually, and from accounts written in various members of the Hillary camp Blogs it was a great weekend training get-together. Obviously there was some imaginative and creative thought about how to essentially make grown men cry over that weekend. I think it is probably best if you follow the links and read some of the Hillary Blogs involved with this "bestial-fun" (!) weekend.

  http://www.gleneverest.blogspot.com/ / http://www.chrissymeverest.blogspot.com/ .

The weekend after that saw a mixed group of Team Tenzing, Team Hillary and The Trektators travel to the Brecon Beacons; the SAS's playground, to yomp, trek, walk, hike, call it what you like, up Pen-Y-Fan, near Cardiff. Considering Britain has endured some of the worst weather of its kind since..., since, ...well since last October actually when some of the Tenzing Faithful donned their completely unsuitable hiking gear and flip-flops and decided to climb the UK's highest mountain. At night. In Flip-Flops. Drunk. Those that were able to snowplough their way to Cardiff I think are testament to the attitude that I believe runs through every member of this expedition. Obviously, safety has to be the priority, but by all accounts those that did make it through to Cardiff had a fantatsic weekend. Brilliantely organised by Dave Kirtley http://www.cricketontopoftheworld.blogspot.com/. 

Again, as I couldn't make that weekend as I was, err, climbing the White Spider route on the North Face of the Eiger, it is probably best that you read some fellow members of the expedition write-ups. 

http://www.tooveseverest.blogspot.com/ / http://www.alaneverest.blogspot.com/

As an aside, my wife is Welsh and it's often been a strange concept for me; Wales - £4 to enter, £Free to get out. Go Figure.

The last couple of weeks for me have seen my training / running go up a notch or two and I have been making use of this ffing weather to get out there and use the snow to help strengthen my running / leg muscles. Every other day (or so) I have been running at lunchtime usually and making use of the light, the fact that it isn't first thing in the morning and that I have eaten something, which I have to say makes these runs more bearable. The weekends since mid-January have then seen me extend these mid-week runs further. I can't say that periodic stops don't happen but I have pushed my legs to make them more infrequent and quite brief. I can't also say that I haven't looked like a complete twat either; the ice playing havoc with the grip and last Monday I came to a slight "in-pass" about 1 mile from home. At the bottom of a wooded path in front of me was, what I presumed, to be a puddle created by run-off from the surrounding field's ice-melt. Ginger Rocky crashes along thinking that it will spray some mud up the old spandex leggings and people will think I am a bit of a hero when I get back to the village. The situation that then ensued reminded me of Dawn French in Vicar of Dibley and the bit when she is wandering, arm-in-arm with Clive Mantle from that high brow medical drama, Casualty and playfully skips into a "little" puddle and falls up to her armpits in water. I come running down the incline and basically, within two feet, I am up to my "clock-weights" in freezing, sh**ty, stinking water that takes me a good few minutes to get out of. By the time I reappeared on the other side, I couldn't feel anything below the waist. Anyway, we will continue in similar vein as April comes hurtling up.

As I write, it has started to snow.

Next weekend, I endeavour to learn the subtle rudiments of the game by travelling to Caterham to learn and hopefully qualify as an umpire. Charlie BN, Helen, Cuzza, Kirt, Hillsy and myself will be taught about everything from how many balls are in the "usual" over to how wide a "track" should be, how players should behave on a pitch, and probably everything in between. There will be a fair amount of driving for me so I hope the roads improve and that I find Caterham School in time to at least catch half of the course.

The following weekend will see Team Tenzing "kiss the biceps" again at G-Man's house. No doubt some hair-raising fitness tests plus some further, hair-raising fitness tests lie in store for us during the day and, maybe, some more relaxed, but still hair-raising fitness tests in the evening, but it will be good to catch up and see how we all are progressing. This will probably be one of the last get-togethers before leaving for Nepal.

I have my jabs next week and being a life-long fan of needles, I simply can't wait. All that and the dentist too. I also need to give the credit card a work-out at the North Face store to buy my last bits and pieces.

Then it's the all looming Bath Half Marathon. It's like a menacing shadow in my mind; the thought of running for 13 miles makes my stomach heave. I can be walking along, quite happily, minding my own business and then THAT thought appears and my stomach feels as though I have just been pushed off the Empire State Building. I am told it's not that bad but honestly, it's running .. and it's 13 miles. Sounds fairly bad to me.

Footnote - I received my number through the post this evening for the Bath Half - D9403. Hmmmm, not a great omen.  D must stand for Dick-head.

Keep you posted.