Over one hurdle and straight into another
Gaucho is back from skiing all in one piece, despite not having been seen on the slopes for 21 years. As a vitual beginner I was convinced I was bound to be the person to do their leg in, and with the Edinburgh marathon looming just a couple of months away, I was bricking it! Survival was particularly good news as last year the group I travelled with had one of their number suffer a broken bone or ligament on every single day of their trip. Luckily, this year, despite their being a record number of 47 skiiers, ranging from nervous beginners to fleet-footed experts a few bumps and bruises was the worst anyone suffered. There was a bonus in not having skied for two decades - I could show off my mid-eighties togs to an astonished, alpine-cool gang of London media types. They certainly don’t make lapels like they did, not in bright green anyway. But actually, the kit fitted ok and kept me warm, despite being bought when I was a tender 14 years old.
Skiing was not to be the problem, that took the form of my own idiotic ambition. Sliding down an icy mountain face all day is knackering - you should have seen us all sitting there at 7 p.m. - but it isn’t running. So, a run was imperative and the marathon book said I was scheduled for an 18 miler. Only a mile and a half more than the previous Thursday’s London jaunt, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. With the Arcade Fire egging me on, the going was good… at first. By the sixth lap, as the snow drove down across the brown fields, the old legs just wouldn’t go any faster. Back in London in the evening, my twenty minute walk round to the girlfriend took twice as long. There’s something wrong with my groin. Gah! So much for skipping warm down and stretches in the hurry for to join the family for Easter Monday lunch. That’s not really ‘running with it’. Sunday is the Kingston Breakfast Run, we’ll see what happens.
Tags: Edinburgh Marathon, eighties clothes, Kingston Breakfast Run., Skiing