Reporter on the Run
It was billed as a trail run that contained history, mystery and scenery - and it delivered.
A group of us drove to Nelson for last weekend's RWCA Sanctuary Run. There were two courses: the 14km short course and the 25km long course.
Sarah, Claire and I had signed up for the short course, leaving Anthony to complete the long course by himself.
After a long drive and a short sleep, we made it to the start line. That's when I remembered the winning female time for the short course was 1:40 - that's not quick! And I was about to find out why . . .
Straightaway we went uphill, and little did we know a large chunk of it would continue like this.
Hangry: When you are so hungry that you become angry, frustrated or both.
It had been nearly seven weeks since I ran the Big 5 Marathon. My injuries were healed, and it was finally time to lace up my shoes for my first run since coming home.
As soon as I had my running gear on (which seemed to fit a little snugger than usual), I text Sarah and Fi to suggest meeting halfway up the hill.
My phone beeped beside me. It was from Sarah saying we'd meet then discuss where to start.
Dread filled me as I made it to our usual meeting spot. The hills suddenly looked unfriendly, large and definitely not as I had left them.
Most people's selfies are carefully constructed. Lipstick is on, every hair is in place, the lighting is right and, most importantly, the angle is flattering (think duckface).
Selfies are almost a daily ritual for some celebrities, including Kim Kardashian and David Hasselhoff (just check out the Hoff's Twitter page).
I've never considered myself a massive selfie taker. The majority of my Facebook photos are not selfies, and shock horror, I often ask someone to take a photograph of me if I want one.
However recently I realised I had to get off my selfie-righteous horse. I realised I have a whole collection of selfies . . . taken while running.
That's right. Just me - all sweaty, tired and makeup free.
Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up. It knows it must outrun the fastest lion or it will be killed. Every morning in Africa, a lion wakes up. It know it must run faster than the slowest gazelle, or it will starve. It doesn't matter whether you're the lion or a gazelle - when the sun comes up, you'd better be running.
"The rules of the bush apply. Don't be the slowest."
Nervous laughter rippled through the crowd. Quizzical looks portrayed what everyone was thinking. "Is he serious?"
The answer? Sort of.
A marathon is challenging enough without lions, giraffes and elephants roaming freely around you.
Yet this could be what happens when I head out into the African savanna on Saturday.
In my head, the Lion King soundtrack plays while lions bound alongside me, a warthog crosses my path, and a bird called Zazu chatters away.
But the reality could be very different.
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