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to maintain this pace, which is
why I have to push hard while
I can.
There are no cars here to
contend with, no fear of cross-
ing a white line and being hit by
a tired driver. My enemy here is
the wind. It whistles and roars
and makes me think I'm hear-
ing voices. I have to lower my
head and focus on putting one
step in front of the other, only
occasionally looking up, as
I get nearer to a food break.
Eric and Ming are giving me
food and drink every 10 kilo-
metres, but it's more difficult
to eat and run here than on
the mainland. I am reluctant
to take my hands out of my
mittens to eat, because they freeze within minutes. I'm eating chicken
soup, chocolate (
lots
of chocolate), cheese and butter in hot water, oats
in hot water . . . in fact,
everything
comes in hot water. Thank God for
the thermos. Food breaks are my only luxury here. I am sustained by the
prospect of getting some chalky butter or cheese to chew on. I am in a
world of my own: all I have are my thoughts, and my mind drifts back to
my childhood, playing backyard footy and cricket. It helps to block out
the white noise that is currently my world.
Ming, Eric and Scotty—who has joined us at last in the six-wheel
drive truck—were not happy about the midnight finish today.
This is the quietest and most lonely New Year's Eve of my life.
January 1, 2012
My New Year's resolution is to exercise less.
I've completed my third full day of running in the Antarctic. My
aim is to cover 60 or 70 kilometres a day, and today I have again run
70. This is the fastest that anyone has ever travelled on foot in the
