3 Peaks

Divine Salvation

25th April 1999

Those of us old enough may well recall the unforgettable scene in the Walt Disney 50s classic, when the dejected hero, exhausted and flagging in his efforts to summon up even greater reserves of strength and energy to achieve athletic greatness (in this case Throwing the Hammer) was physically reactivated and mentally retuned by the sound of those immortal words uttered by the girlfriend in the stands, 'Come away ma wee Geordie!'.

So it was in the depths of the Yorkshire Dales on the 25th April when yours truly, with about twenty miles under his belt and two of the '3 Peaks' demolished with relative ease, but now struggling, brain-dead, and hardly able to drag one leg after the other for the final assault on Ingleborough (at only 724m nothing much to compare with a good old Scottish peak, but steep all the same you understand) - where's all this leading? - oh yes - an incredible boost was given to the flagging spirits and body by the sound from the hill above of 'Come on, Gordon!'. Not much I know, only three words, but at the time it penetrated through to the few remaining active brain cells. I thought 'Don't know anyone mad enough to be up here at this time on a Sunday lunchtime'. Certainly not the wife who having dropped me off at the start some three hour previously, headed for the nearest tea-room and would still be smugly ensconced therein (it didn't in all honesty sound much like her either): must be another Gordon in the field. Head down, keep going. There it is again, same words of encouragement, but this time a female voice. Could it really be the wife? No. I'm hallucinating. 'Come on, Gordon'. Whoever this other Gordon is, he must have his fan club out. Head down, keep going.

'Do you want some water?', and between my face and the hillside (which at this point were pretty close together) appeared a water bottle (no, not the kind that likes hot water and is enclosed in a fluffy teddy-bear). Manna from heaven! Waste valuable energy reserves in raising my eyes from the ground. 'My God, Mark - what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out training somewhere? Thanks a lot.' Gulp, gulp. 'Keep going, you're looking good', (Must be the new shorts or the wind was catching the hair), or similar words of encouragement from Jen, lost on the wind. Magnificent; happy smiling faces, friends in a foreign land. Or was I hallucinating?

An extra centimetre in my stride, and the pain wiped from my face in an instant, and full pelt to the summit and the final five mile dash - all relative in terms of my speed of course - for the finish.

I achieved my target of improving on last year and getting under 4 hours, but how much was due to the Divine Intervention on that wind swept Yorkshire hillside? If I wasn't hallucinating, a big thank you to you both. Oh, and as an after thought, it really must be mentioned (though it clearly pains me to do so) that Carnethy stamped their name in the record books this year with Angela smashing the ladies' record, and Brian Waldie (what does he put in his porridge of a morning?) walking off with the over 60s, both in their first attempt!

Posted by Gordon Robinson on Wed 30 Nov -0001 | comments are closed

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