Now that we've officially decided to postpone the trek, I'll have to be really careful the little training I was doing doesn't fall by the wayside. I know me - give me an excuse (doesn't have to be a good one - any excuse will do), and I'll use it and abuse it until the cows come home (and not having cows myself, nor ever intending such bovine ownership, this means forever).
So I am determined to keep up the Sunday treks at least. Mostly we do the 1000 steps (with the fire-track thrown in every now and again), and I'm actually starting to recognise people who are also there at the same time each week. There's the posse of good-looking young guys who talk rather loudly and take up more space than they should, and the ultra-fit middle-aged woman who can run up the steps without breaking stride, and the youngish bloke with the rotund belly who breathes so heavily that your skin sort of crawls when he comes up behind, and the 82-year old who, with her grand-daughter, slowly but surely climbs the steps each week. She, in particular, gives me inspiration. Because I'll be buggered if I let an octogenarian show me up. Not just yet anyway.