Weekend warriors...

And so, having run out of excuses, the first big training weekend arrived for Atomic Hamster. Mr A arrived promptly at Hamster Mansions and Team Overall plus the Squishy one headed off to put their stamp on the Rhayader 20, the Rhayader 20 having singularly failed to put a stamp on the race information we'd been sent...

Despite the presence of a storm-lamp on the table, the weather was pretty pleasant for the race...and there were remarkably few dead sheep. Everywhere you go, always take the weather with ewe indeed. Mr A had gut problems from around mile 8, while your correspondent was resisting the urge to throw up; the hills were almost alive with the sound of Drew sick. There wasn't much singing, but we did manage to crack the 'two fish swimming along when one crashes into a concrete wall and says 'dam'' joke as we passed the, er, dam. As delerium set in, I also coined 'two scarecrows in a field, one says to the other 'can you smell snowmen?'. No, it wasn't even funny at the time, to be honest...

At mile 17, we located a caravan site and one half of Team Andrex retired for a pit stop. It was then just a case of jogging it out for the T shirt; 3:22 and shrapnel meant that we ran the Transalp requirement of 10 min miling.

Day 2 dawned before dawn, as it were, broke. Forcing down breakfast at 4am is never easy. Into the car, then off to Eastnor Castle to ride the Lightning. Even though we were sharp-dressed men in our Pirate gear, we barely had legs and didn't know how to use them. I was first off at 6am, to discover that the first 2k of the 9.3k course was entirely uphill. Nice touch, Raymondo, er Patrick. First lap done in just under the hour, hand the baton to Mr A, wait for him to come in just under an hour later, repeat...only progressively more slowly. Mr A was standing up manfully, my hips locked up and refused to allow more than a shuffle. There were many pitstops for both members of Team Overall. Portaloo, couldn't escape if I wanted to...

Twelve hours later it was over; we'd covered about 30 miles each over hilly, muddy terrain, the day after logging 20 on the road. We'd finished sixth male pair. Admittedly there were fewer than 7 male pairs entered, but a kill's a kill.

Thanks to Mr A for the company and Squish for the support. It's like a big upside-down squirrel.

The other A-H

Paracetamoxifrusebendroneomycin

Thanks to the pharmacological interventions of the NHS' finest (and in addition taking what was in the back of the cupboard) the latter half of Atomic Hamster is restored to rude good health. I am a drug tsar, what can I say? I managed a five mile run yesterday and was good to go again today, except that fate decreed that I spend most of it driving in my car (it's not quite a Jaguar)...the second sign of Madness indeed...

It seems that the former half of AH has missed me too, though his aim is improving. In his promised race report, you will see that he 'forgot to eat', an excuse much beloved of svelte fit wenches, anorexics and people with suicidal tendencies. You see, gentle reader, you can call it the knock, a bonk or hitting the wall, but the last thing you want to do in an endurance event, especially when you have another one planned next day, is run out of carbs. The sudden 'why has my body stopped working? Why has my brain stopped working?' feeling that this produces is unpleasant in the extreme...and not conducive to dragging your sorry arse onwards for another several miles. In the absence of paracetamoxifrusebendroneomycin (which also reverses impotence and makes you good at fighting) eating is the only way to stop this. I could've reminded him. It's nice to be needed...

I bet he missed my singing too.

The coming weekend sees us at Rhayader for a 20 mile jogette round the oh-so-gentle contours of the local reservoirs. It's an undulating half marathon with two short sharp climbs and an eff-off 3.5 mile hill tacked on the front. It also has WEATHER.

And dead sheep.

It can be wild up there.

People have finished this race with PTSD. I had my first taste of hypothermia here.

And this is only the thunderbolt of Saturday.

On Sunday at 6am, it's the Lightning 12 hour at the 'very flat honest, guv' Eastnor Park. Set them free at the break of dawn 'Til one by one, they were gone. Now admittedly, we'll only run for 6 hours each, wussing out compared to the big boys and girls doing the whole thing solo, but on tired legs, it could be a challenge. Every one's a super-hero, every one's a Captain Kirk...

It has some minor side effects and some are not that rare...

Thunderbolt and lightning, very very frightening thing; I'll have the penne alla arrabiata...

The other A-H