TAR Stage 3

No actual pics from today so this one is from the podium yesterday (we won a little bottle of suncream each).

Stage 3

Stop me if this is getting dull…

Absolute monster of a day, during which I may have shown my grumpy side.

Sense of humour left me for a short spell.

There were 2 very long and at times technical climbs.

In between the climbs were some flowing sections of trail. These were particularly nice.

A bloke called Max came up to me, my number showing from the back and said “Hey Rory! That’s a nice name! From Scotland! (Not a question)” Me: (hurting and perhaps veering towards grumpy or at least not entirely at my friendliest and chattiest) “Yeah. What’s your name?” “Max!” (Max is probably about 12 years old and full of the beans of life). Me: “Max?” “That’s a lovely name!” Max is one of my new friends. He’s German (this is good to know when you imagine him talking).

2nd climb of the day sucked everything out of my legs and it was down to stubbornness and determination to finish it.

When I finished the climb, guess who was there summiting at the same time. Aye. Max. Anya trotted off on the descent and Max said “Hey Rory, I’ve made up a joke for you if that’s ok?” “Sure Max.” He said: “I bet they call you Fe-Rory.” Picture a fast car. Me: “Not today, Max.”

I took off like driving Miss Daisy down the mountainside.

Max’s running partner flew past like he was on his mountain bike, including taking “air”.

Not long before the 4th and final check point I slipped on some, literally, cow-shitty grass, took a tumble and jumped up to face the guy coming down behind me and went “Tah-dah”. He thought I was awesome. Or not.

Anya then dragged us both on towards the finish looking so strong.

We held on to a podium place, just. Making 3rd in our category.

Each night there is a pasta party with associated razzmatazz during which we received a prize consisting of ham, cheese, cake and oatmeal thingies.

Went to bed suitably gubbed and still struggling to breathe with blocked nose and a cough.