And walking is just wot they did! Yes all 26 miles. Glory Be. Blessed are my Boots. They shall inherit the land of the Yorkshire Dales. These Boots got me round the killer 26 miler Yorkshire 3 peaks challenge again for the 6th time. Well it was 28 miles given that we have gone the wrong way up one of the first mountains.
The challenge is an age old one now where semi fit, enthusiastic no bodies set themselves the target to climb 5,000ft 3 peak mountains on a round trip walk and all to be completed under 12 hours. http://www.walkingenglishman.com/dales1.htm Only fools enter this race, only bigger fools come back year after year to conquor the peaks and their demons.
I came back to conquor the beast of the bog. The infamous stinking bog in which i fell in waist height last year.
This year our team consisted of Captain Mark, Angela and Clive. Mark only knows one speed. Fast. Even faster when it involves the pub and a free drink. He is also Ex Army, so very fit. Angela and Clive on the other hand were newbies, they had no idea what to expect and i wasnt about to tell them. My inspiration and motivation for the day was to get it all over and done with as soon as possible so I could be one of the first of the 100 teams back to use the hotwater showers at the campsite before the hot water ran out. As ususal my months of training leading up to the fateful day had consisted of no training wot so ever. The only only training was, turn up on the day, climb the mountains, then die in my tent. However there was a slight modification this year. I downed 2 gallon of lucozade and tucked into 4 high energy bars en stomp and recited the mind mantra of "Pain is good, Pain is good"
So me and Captain Mark stomped ahead. Keeping up with his blistering army pace was near to impossible. But I was determined not to get overtaken least of all by some fat bastard eating a porkpie spluttering " morning, nice day for it "
So we got round. Not in record time. Its a team event so everyone waits for everyone to catch up. The event organisers had kindly put on pie and chips for us all at the local village pub. So down to The Crown we descended. The place always resembles a War Hospital for the war wounded the evening of the 3 peaks. Bandaged legs here, bandaged ankles there. Hobbling grown men in agony complaining of severe chafing as they take their empties back for a refil to the bar. Stories of heroics, valour and sheer determination as they braved mental and physical exhaustion to fling themselves over the finishing line.
"Will you be back again next year?"
" No f*ckin chance"
They will. The call of the 3 peaks challenge will bring them back. Back for more. Back to face their demons
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