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of things I haven't come far at all. I have just six months to get to Tierra
del Fuego at the bottom of South America.
Bernie and Katie lost me today, but for a change there was a lighter
side to the debacle. I like to invite supporters, my crew and visitors to
the expedition to run a few kilometres with me, just to get an idea of
how it is for me. We chat; they work up a sweat. With us for the past few
days has been a writer covering the pole-to-pole run. The writer, who
is in his early 60s and reasonably fit, and I set out from Chappaqua at
dawn to run 5 kilometres. The plan was for Bernie to catch us up and
drop the writer back at the car park by the railway station where we'd
spent the night camping, while I ran on. Well, the writer and I jogged
up some pretty steep hills leading out of Chappaqua. He was doing all
right, running easily, until after a while he started gasping for air. He
told me that in his view we had run much further than 5 kilometres.
On consideration, I had to agree. Where were Bernie and Katie and the
bloody van? After another half-hour's running, the writer, whose face
was by now scarlet, declared that he was sure we'd run 15 kilometres. I
looked at my watch, and he was right.
We stopped, and the writer declared that he was going to walk
back to Chappaqua and get the team there to contact Bernie by phone
and tell him what road I was on. Just then, Bernie and Katie pulled up
in the van. They had taken a wrong turn. It was an honest mistake, and
we all know that stuff-ups are inevitable. My anger didn't last long and
soon all was forgotten.
Compounding my angst is that I'm making the run on such a
ridiculously tight budget, and without a doctor or a proper masseur.
I can't afford the specialised high-energy food that I need. If the vans
break down, it'll be Bernie and me trying to fix them. If the crew gets
lost, as happens, because I run on ahead before they are ready to
follow or they, or I, take a wrong turn and we become separated, as
well as running further or backtracking (which, as I said, I refuse on
principle to do), I run the risk of tripping or stumbling and getting
hurt while I'm distracted and worrying. A later end to the day when
we are trying to find each other means I have less sleep. I tell them
that their job is to get inside my head and know where I am. If they
can't do that, they are of no use to me. Thankfully, I'm confident the
problems will be resolved, and, anyway, our lare-ups are soon over
and done with.
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