Second Chance

I don't give up easily. Well, OK, I do. Sometimes. But mostly I don't. Unless I have a good reason. And even then there are rules....well more like guidelines really.

Anyway after an attempt to climb Mount Karioi back in January ended in disappointment, the quite frankly unnatural feeling of having to turn back and the sight of life flashing before my eyes as I stumbled head first off the mountain, I just had to give it another go. It was on my hit list, so to speak. Unfinished business if you will. I may not have known when the opportunity would arise but I would be ready. Yes siree. And arise it did, I just never thought that it would be so soon. 

After a friend noted that she hadn't been to Raglan yet, it seemed appropriate that we head down there for the next 'Bank holiday'. Sure we could relax, take in the cafes and bars, meander in the nick-nak type shops and generally chill out.... but not before we ticked off Mount Karioi first.

This time it would be different. We were better prepared, had done more training, had a larger team and most importantly, we were going to take the easier route. Success was virtually guaranteed!

Confidence was so high that we eschewed the usual dawn departure, had a leisurely breakfast, read the papers and generally loafed around for an hour or so before heading towards the hill. It was a stunning day for a walk and the summit was cloud free. Was it really Autumn? If every hill deserves a second chance then this was the weather in which to give it.

Abandoning the car, we set off in search of the path. Rolling farmland pretty soon gave way to steep tree clad bush. And with it the temperatures rose. Well internally at least. Sweat was soon pouring as we gained height; slow metre by slow metre. The considered view is that the best way to climb a hill is one step at a time. Maybe, but when humidity is up in the 80s, a lift in a helicopter wouldn't go amiss.

Determined to grasp the second chance in both hands, or is that feet, we slowly made our way up the hill. A few root steps, a couple of clambers over rocks and a pair of ladders and we emerged at the summit - which handily had a concrete pad on which to sit and admire the view. What there was of it. Yup, Graeme's second law of hill climbing had taken effect. Just because it's a nice day when you leave the car, the odds are that when you get to the top...it won't be. It was still a stunning view - the cloud base making it very atmospheric, if you pardon the meteorological pun.

A nibble on a cheese and ham sandwich later, and we're were off back down. The weather window was clearly closing and the thought of having to negotiate a slippery, muddy slope was driving us down. That, and the fact that a very loud American had just appeared at the summit and was loudly telling us how peaceful it was. Hhhhmmm.

Thankfully the descent was not as tricky as we had feared on the way up and, one unscheduled use of a backside aside, we were soon back at the car.

As second chances go, it was very successful, enjoyable and, more importantly, didn't involve me slipping off a mountain head first into the bush. Which is win-win in my opinion!

Fast Women

I thought that title would get your attention. But it's relevant. Honest! Read on!

Running in a race in New Zealand is pretty much like anywhere else in the world. You enter online, train whilst you wait for the race pack to arrive, check its contents and then, all being well, turn up at the aloted time and run. Most of us mere mortals can only hope to complete the race or, with a fair wind and a bit of luck, nab a personal best. Or a PB as it's known in running circles. Actually running circles would be rubbish and a little monotonous. Not to mention hard on at least one of your legs. But you know what I mean. Anything other than the self satisfaction of a PB is fantasy. Sure one can hope to come first but that would rely on the rest of the field either forgetting to turn up or coming down with gastric flu. Not something I would wish on fellow runners. And can you imagine the mess? 

Well I need wonder no more. Due to my recent efforts in Auckland's annual 'Round The Bays' run, contested by over 20,000 individuals, I can now add the title of 'Fastest Woman in our Office' to my list of achievements. Impressive! Not only that but I was 27th in my age group of women aged between 40 and 49. My sporting career has peaked. 

Before you ask, it was a mistake on my application form. A simple one. When confronted with a box to tick, Male or Female, I got it wrong. Yes by accident! This wasn't a particularly challenging question and I'd like to think that, after years of experience in the field of being male, when presented with a 50/50 choice I would've got it right. But I didn't. And I didn't even notice my oversight when I got the email confirmation a few minutes later. And neither did the organisers. But I suppose amongst 20,000 other contestants the fact that a women entrant was called 'Graeme' would've been difficult to spot. And I suppose it was too much to expect, when a female entrant crossed the line in a reasonable time, that no one noticed she was a bald man with hairy legs.  

It wasn't, however, difficult for my work colleagues, and fellow entrants, who spotted the error within minutes of the results being published. I may have been only second fastest in the office - a fact that I attribute to being out on the pop until 2am - but I was the fastest woman. But only just. You can imagine the comments. "Is there something you're not telling us?", "So that's what you do on a weekend" and "Wouldn't you be more comfortable in a dress?". Ho-f'in'-ho. Anyway, giggles in the corridor aside, I thought that was then end of the matter. Yes it was quite amusing for a while but the world had moved on. Hadn't it? Apparently not. 

Every month the office has a meeting where we talk about recent successes, individuals who have excelled and, of course, those who have been right muppets. You can see where this is going can't you. This lowly award, the wooden spoon of the office world, has been named a 'Munter', the reason for which is more to do with making a fool of yourself than, according to the internet definition of the word, being an unattractive women. Which is ironic really because when I received the office 'Munter' award and the corresponding trophy for my notable run, it could be argued that I was both. 

So all in all, a hungover run around the Auckland coastline has been quite entertaining. And it's certainly made me check tick boxes on internet registration forms more closely. I won't be making that mistake again. Until next year that is. Well I have a record to keep. And besides there are all those men to beat...... 

http://fairfax.tiktok.biz/roundthebays/2015/00775