Recurring themes
Over the last few years I’ve been surprised by the number of people who assume I’m ex-military. It’s funny, if only because I spent my teens, twenties and a good chunk of my thirties with hair down to my arse. It happened again this week; I met a stalker on the hill on Wednesday who came into the bothy for Saturday night. Chatting round the stove, he asked me what regiment I’d served with; seeing my speed and pace with a big pack earlier in the week, he’d jumped to the conclusion I was ex-forces.
The nature of my fitness has changed over the last three years, not only as a result of the aging process. I no longer have the explosive short-term energy I once got from constant mountain-biking and running, but I can maintain a fast, steady pace all day even with a big pack on. If, as looks increasingly likely, I jump back on the bike soon, it’ll be interesting to see how that translates into 100-mile days in the saddle….
