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/.
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.
Keep you posted.
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.
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