Mountain Vs Car...Car limps off bruised and flustered

I took the trusty Nissan up the Mount Wellington course the other day...all I can say is there are a lot of hills in them there hills...oh and the car teetered on the edge of overheating when we finally reached the top. As far as I know, a 1.8 litre engine has just a little more energy than my wee little legs and lungs.

The pantry was just too far

But training is under way and mostly going to plan. It's odd this mountain running thing. After running a few meaty hills I find myself in the absolutely alien position of eyeing off anything that goes uphill and looks painful with a worrying amount of...er...lust. Yes this is odd, I'm lusting after hills as if they were the latest Hollywood vixen of the day wrapped in crispy bacon and dunked in cinnamon sugar for good measure.

But the odd stuff doesn't end there...why is it I can run a good few Ks up a hill and still be smiling, yet reduce myself to a wheezing jelly when trotting across a road during my lunch break? I can pound the streets for an hour with a smile on my face, but whinge like the Queen in a trailer park when traveling from couch to kitchen in search of hidden salt, oil and sugar deposits at the back of the pantry. Makes no sense to me, but what I do know is that feeling of purpose and sense when trotting through the streets at 6am. All is still, the new sun warms your face and your feet are doing their thing. Just got to learn how to run across the road and trek the three metres to the kitchen now...and maybe not think about my overheating car!