2011 Streak 112/365: Walk - 22.5 miles, time - 2hrs 15min, Weather - sunny and hot
For about 12 years, before he went to New Zealand, my friend and I used meet-up every fortnight to go mountain biking. Mostly we went on the trails around Ashridge, tweaking and extending our routes until we knew we had found something close to perfection, which we then kept doing, many, many times. Instead of getting tired, the repetition seemed to increase the pleasure. The more we got to know it the better it felt and the more we went out, the more we saw. The seasons and weather always changed and so there was always something different, some new challenge.
For every section we developed our own names. These could be merely descriptive like 'the unfeasibly bumpy bit' or enigmatic like 'the 95 percenter' but they all evolved from things said on the rides, over time. For example we once remarked that a particular section was always harder than we remembered and so it became 'the hidden hill'. In this way we developed our own private cartography - a pleasure that can only come over time.
Today was therefore a big day: for the first time in five years we were going to retrace our paths and try to recapture the enjoyment of something once deeply embedded in our pattern of life.
All I can say is that it was brilliant. We did all the things we used to do, stopped at places we used to stop, look at things we used to look at. Even the skylark was there (there is a particular downland section where we always seemed to hear a skylark).
Can it really have been five years ago? Time must have passed but it felt just the same.
Except (and there is always and except) … I have lost fitness. Coming up the scarp slope my legs went watery and I needed recovery time at the top. Not good. Not impressive. These gentle strolls I have been having this year are all very fine but they don't achieve much. Action needs to be taken. I need to press harder.
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