Sunday, 29 September 2019

ARUK Explorer 2019

Once more unto the breach, dear friends…
 
Bit much I know but I have a penchant for the dramatic, and a penchant for using words like penchant. But that’s besides the point, the point being so I can write down a few too many words about a short walk, in the countryside, I did with a friend, last Saturday.
 
It was the inaugural Alzheimer’s Research UK, ARUK, Explorer hike, 26 miles across the peak district. We’d signed up in August, and started fundraising at the beginning of September. I would later find out that some folks were such prolific raisers of funds that they had achieved the minimum £250 target before we had even started to raise funds!
 
It’s 06:00, on the 21st of September, and I’m picked up by Ed and Issi, the I and E in team IRE, the more deductively inclined amongst you may have realised that that makes me the R in this sandwich made with Holden bread. We’re all in fine spirits and after some brief sat nav wrangling set off. It’s a quiet drive to Carsington water. There’s a brief “which car park should we park in confusion” but it passes and we chat with Ed about celebratory beers before heading off to registration.
 
All registered and numbered up, I was 52 and Issi was 62, this would later prompt discussion on how numbers were allocated. The bus slowly fills up and we’re off to Bakewell, little confusing I know. But the order of events is:
  • Register at Carsington Water
  • Bus to Bakewell
  • Walk back 26 miles to Carsington Water
  • Prosecco
  • Dinner
  • Celebratory beer/s
 The bus journey feels long, and we both get sleepy, luckily we’re there before we have a chance to nod off. We’re given a safety briefing and told that we should always be within eyeshot of a white arrow with a red background, on the route we are following. That’s right, they’ve been so thorough as to signpost every part of the course!

Around the first bend...
We are the last lot to set off and stride through the pack. All’s well till we hit and incline, “bit steep” was the consensus, but it evens out. A little slippery underfoot here and there but it’s a cracking day, apparently the last weekend of good weather this year. We are setting our pace by an older gent who is just ahead of us. Sturdy like an oak tree is how I would describe him. Before we know it we’ve covered 9.5km, or 5.9 miles, and made it to the first pit stop.


Pretty sure this was before the first support point...



We are greeted by enthusiasm from the ARUK folks and offered tea, coffee, snacks! I have a tea and briefly consider the milk situation. I had put on an extra challenge for myself, see how far I can go fasted. I had stopped eating at 21:00 the previous night. The tea is piping hot and there’s no way I could drink it quickly without the cooling effects of milk… We stop for a bit, gather ourselves, have a bit of banter with “sturdy like and oak tree” man. And set off. Well we tried but we weren’t sure which way to go. So we ineffectually spun around glancing here and there, a ARUK volunteer with a beagle kindly pointed us in the right direction.


Sounded much larger, thoughts?
We’re off and before long it looks like we are lost, but the presence of a paramedic reassures us we are not. On we go, we walk behind a couple of girls blasting The Greatest Showman soundtrack, overtake at some point and see our “sturdy like an oak tree” talisman. We overtake him too and blast on. We’re told it’s 5km to lunch, it’s around 11:30 and Issi makes a move on the ploughman’s sandwich she’d packed. We get a few “lunch is just around the corner” jibes, shrug them off, motor on. Better that than a hangry Holden...

It’s around 13:00 and we roll in to where lunch is being served, we are met by cheering and applause from the volunteers. Sandwiches, crisps, chocolate, juice, tea, coffee. Lovely spread, I decide to break fast with a cheese and chutney sandwich. We’d had a brief chutney discussion that likely influenced my decision. Sitting on the grass eating sandwiches, very easy to switch off and forget why you’re there. But we gather ourselves, pop to the bathroom, I make it back to the lunch tent before Issi, I cut through the carpark. She approached down the trail prompting a second round of applause, they recognise her and burst into laughter.

We’re off and after a while the nutrients kick in, I speed up, Issi keeps up no problem. We have to dodge oncoming and overtaking bikes. Bit of a faff but we weather this particular storm, of bikes. I think I spot Ian Curryer, the Chief Exec of Notts City Council. The discussion moves to yoghurt, and how neither of us has had a yoghurt in a while. Issi remembers she’s got a black cherry yoghurt carb gel. I admit I have a bunch of now out of date carb gels at home.

We keep on trucking, and I didn’t let on at the time but I am feeling it. Not so much tiredness but pain in my hip adductors aka inner thighs. I spot a few people milling about and we wonder if there’s a pitstop, there appears to be a portaloo, there is a pit stop! We stop and spot people we’d passed filtering in, one of them exclaiming they shan’t sit down till they’re done! I fill up my water, down a few crisps, energy bars, and we’re off again.

I overhear that it’s the longest stretch between support points, 12km. Issi picks up the pace setting and we start overtaking people again. As we go I notice the pain in my legs hasn’t gotten worse, #PainPlateau. We pass a lady going solo and walk with her a bit. She’s surprised she has made it this far, and asks how much further, I glance at my watch and suggest that as it’s been about an hour, we should be about halfway between support points. Her and Issi discuss how this is the last stretch, but the longest. We wish her luck, tell her we’ll see her at the finish, and push on.

It is now that our egos get a little out of control, we are finding this easy. Well not fall out of bed do it every day easy but not struggling like we have on previous challenges. We joke about how to feign that extra level of exhaustion. Alas the fall that follows any occurance of pride was not far away. We descend a very steep grassy area, complete with paramedic, thus confirming the danger. I creep down but it’s over soon enough and there are some roots that have formed into steps with years of use.

Something smells wonderful, sandalwood is burning somewhere. And we’re on a road and shortly met by what I assume to be a family of volunteers. One of the kids is handing out jelly babies, and the man is pointing us left, he tells us we are close. And so the fall begins.... We carry on buoyed by being so close to the end.
Hobbiton-esque, right?
We turn down paths, I spot a lady with the same boots as me, and then we are met with a view of the water, Carsington Water! We must be super close, we both exhale a breath of relief and relax. As the path winds on we are following one side of the body of water. There’s uphill, downhill, some flat bits. The struggle is real now, I suspect we were fine physically but mentally we’d finished before crossing the line. So we shuffled on, it hurt. Then we were overtaken by a couple, super fit by the looks of it, practically jogging ahead of us. And with that the short lived ego inflation was gone for good.

But we keep going, I push the pace a little, and we recognise buildings from when we registered that morning. There’s an inflatable finish line, gate, thing. We are applauded, cheered, I had to take my hat off so they could bung a medal on me, and some icy prosecco to finish it off. It took us 8 hours and 40 minutes, and we were well and truly done. I pick up my shirt, and have a quick chat with one of the organisers. We go in search of dinner. Not before a fella asks me about where I got my hat, amazon, cheap as chips.


We made it...
We grab some grub, wolf it down, and spot some people finishing who we’d passed, spotted throughout the day etc. We go grab a pint, and I convince Issi to stretch a little. It hurts. We take a pic with medals, pints, and my paper number. The wind duly claims the number and blows it off the upstairs deck, into a gutter! It becomes quite obvious that tiredness, slight dehydration, little food, and alcohol, lead to feeling buzzed off two drinks. The bar is closing, but the lovely lady who tells us gives us some plastic cups so we can keep enjoying our refreshing beverages. I switch from hat to 7 in one scarf, balaclava, headscarf, thing. I look like a pirate, one the them south asian pirates!



My irretrievable number!
We head downstairs to cheer on people who are finishing. As we sit down I spot “sturdy as an oak tree” man, he’d finished and was proudly wearing his orange ARUK Explorer tshirt. We clap, turns out we both use the same loud clapping technique. We see a couple break down in tears, people who were really struggling, make it back, very moving. They had given it everything, and I imagine for a lot of them this is a very personal cause. We are offered more prosecco and I accept.

Ever wondered what a pint of prosecco head looks like?


We head off to find Ed, he’s due back soon. As we walk back to the car park we spot families having picnics, someone firing up a bbq, it’s a lovely day, even if we are a little worse for wear. Issi get’s a call from Ed, he’s parked. But we’re not entirely sure where in relation to us he is. Issi describes what she can see and he can see the same, he waves, she spots him, we walk back the way we’d come.

We chat, Ed had brought along some rather delicious looking beers. I opt for the stout and realise, again, that I am flying high. We all crack a beer and shoot the breeze. Tales of Jenn’s cake victories, Nephew Olivers too, and how Ed could’ve totally done this walk. He pops to the gents and I open my delicious but dry “Kind” bar. Issi insists I need another beer, the only option is the strongest one left…




This is where my original write up stopped, but as is the way I felt I didn't quite get down what I wanted to. Mostly the enthusiasm of all the ARUK volunteers, staff, etc. They were upbeat, supportive, around odd corners! They were wielding jelly babies, encouragement, directions, pom poms, and general good vibes. The event was super organised and I have since heard that a total of £41,000 has been raised so far.

 If you can please donate, so we can make breakthroughs happen: https://www.justgiving.com/teams/IRE2019

But there's more to the story, namely the car journey home, whilst I am ever so merry. Chatting away fuelled by prosecco, beers, and not much else I was flying high. Ed had set the sat nav for Issi's, which is less than a mile away from where I live. He was banking on my ability to navigate Nottingham, I am OK with directions, but I was rather under the influence at this point. But I managed to latch onto a few landmarks and realised we were approaching from the North East via the A610. The consensus in the car was that I may or may not know where we were.


To prove I was totally able to navigate the area I predicted a KFC after the next round about. Question is was it there folks? Cast your votes.... The KFC was indeed there, I was feeling smug. Ed busts me out of my smugness by declaring "Ron, can navigate Nottingham by takeaways!" A slight but one that may very well be true. I also vaguely tell Ed he needs to turn right at some point, the distance between the KFC and right turning always feels longer that I think it's going to be. This fills Ed and Issi with a fresh draught of doubt. When will they learn? As we approach a set of lights I instruct Ed to enter the lane that's furthest right, we make the abled vague right, make it to the big old roundabout I live near and am dropped off. Hands shaken, hugs exchanged, the next time we'll see each other is in Marrakech. I now have to go and appear sober in front of my parents, a feat I achieved, I think.


Couldn't quite get it all...

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