March (victory is mine!)

The title says it all (well, that and the previous post). In other words, the GOH have been closed and we are rodent-free!

March (this is war)

This is a story that has nothing at all to do with Kokoda, or training, or diets. However it has become somewhat of an obsession over the last week and therefore I shall share it with you regardless. On the grounds that misery loves company (and if I pass away through sleep deprivation, then at least there'll be some evidence of the cause). See, it all started when I was clearing out D1 (daughter number one)'s room for D2 (daughter number two) to move into, and my foot went through the floorboards. This wasn't such a big deal as it sounds because I was well aware the floor needed replacing. However that night [insert creepy music], the size eight-and-a-half-but-sometimes-nine hole transformed itself into an Amityville-horror-style Gates Of Hell (hereafter to be known as GOH for short). I was woken by a loud gnawing noise, closely followed by footsteps and then a shrill scream. Apparently D2 had gone to investigate (hardy soul that she is), and a mouse had run over her foot in the darkness. Anyway we laughed about it merrily (blissfully unaware that laughter would soon become a thing of the past...), and I said I'd set some traps the next day. Then we went back to bed. An hour or so later I woke to something crawling heavy-footed up my neck (I kid you not) - and leapt out of bed so fast the room span. The mouse probably (although this is by no means certain) got as big a shock as me and was long gone, while I spent the rest of the night drinking coffee, scratching at my neck and shuddering uncontrollably every so often. I sort of looked like a rather unstable recovering drug addict.

The next day I discovered a large section of gnawed wood at the bottom of the closed door to the room with the GOH, so I figured that the mouse must have become trapped in the house and been trying vainly to return to the nether regions (aka Hell). This hypothesis was confirmed by the fact the dog (who, despite all visual evidence to the contrary, rather fancies herself as D3) carried on for quite a bit, trying to get beneath my bed, before giving up and curling on top for a nap. Yes, it seems the bloody mouse was still there, underneath. I immediately sprung into action (all that coffee helped) and locked the dog away before setting a multitude of mouse-traps around my bed, down the passage and, leaving the door now open, around the GOH.

That evening mouse-traps went off periodically (which did nothing for my frayed nerves), but no mouse was captured. So that night, and the same for the next three, I set fresh traps (not my favourite, or most skilful, activity) and then closed all the doors before going to bed. And each time, in the early hours of the morning [insert even creepier music], I woke to the sounds of loud gnawing, scratching, gouging. Which only ceased when I opened the doors just a little to allow easy egress to the GOH (actually I stand at a distance and prod the doors open with a walking pole and then race back up the passage to my bedroom while making oddly high-pitched whimpering noises). And each morning I have found fresh gouges in all the (previously smooth polished walnut) doors at the far end of the house, plus - now - patches of crimson carpet having been devoured around them (FYI that's not blood, the carpet was already crimson - I like colour). The traps are either set off, but empty, or just ignored. The poison I've left out has also been rejected (meaning the mouse is either clever, or just fussy). And I have averaged about three hours sleep a night.

Now this story would already have a fair degree of 'yuck factor' about it - except further investigation this morning revealed a scattering of clues - each one considerably larger than what one would expect of a mouse (unless said mouse has serious bowel issues). Those, plus the mega-amount of damage done to the (closed) bifold doors have led me to only one conclusion. That's right, remove the word 'mouse' from the previous story and substitute [insert really, really, really creepy music] - 'rat'. Which sends the yuck factor skyrocketing into the stratosphere - and I'm not even going to think about the whole crawling-up-my-neck thing. Yes, it seems I have a psychotic rat wandering my house each night and losing his temper with the woodwork whenever the doors are left closed. It's like being married again.

No wonder the traps weren't successful. He was probably chortling at my ignorance each night as he set them off with a twig and then snacked on the peanut butter as an entree for my woodwork. But at least D2 has stopped saying things like 'oh, but mice are so cute' - and she's also taken to sleeping with the dog in her room which, judging on the dog's performance thus far, isn't going to be much protection anyway. But at least she's sleeping - which is more than I can say for me.

But tonight, ah yes, the tables shall be turned. I have just purchased ultra-strong, super-over-the-top rat poison and tonight the bastard dies. I may poison the totally useless dog and cat while I'm at it. I could just put something heavy over the GOH but I've seen enough horror movies to know that's not the answer. And in the case of this particular fiend, he'll (that's right, he's a 'he' - I'm sure of it) probably just break a window. Or ring the door-bell (and get a key cut). So it's war. And I have every intention of winning - just as long as I can stay awake.

March (the month after January...)

I have made a unanimous decision (voted for by me, myself and I) that this year March shall be known as the month that immediately followed January. There are several reasons for this:

1) I have long thought that February held a reputation out of all proportion to actuality,

2) If it can't hang around long enough to make an impression then it doesn't deserve undue recognition (28 days! Hardly worth turning the calendar over), and

3) I spent most of the month sitting on my backside eating licorice (don't ask because I don't know) while engrossed in the winter olympics. Therefore negating the month will also negate my self-indulgent sloth and (mostly) erase residual guilt.

So there you have it, and suddenly I am actually ahead work-wise for 2o10 and can begin March with a clear conscience and a surprising depth of knowledge regarding Axels and Twizzles and the optimum air-time for an Alley-Oop and/or a Backside 720. BTW & FYI, eating copious amounts of licorice in one sitting is probably not a good idea. Although it did give me a good excuse not to go out the following day, which justified more couch-sitting and licorice eating, which... well, you get the picture.

So with February done and dusted (and put on notice to lift its game next year), I am also not late in thanking everyone for the lovely birthday wishes in January. They were all much appreciated and I must say I am thoroughly enjoying my fifties thus far. As far as preparations for Kokoda go, however, I have hit another snag with my knee playing up, yet again. This has resulted in weekly visits to the physio, and several weird and wonderful exercises that have my offspring chortling rudely every time I attempt them (really, is 2 x 20 squats while rubbing one's back up and down the doorframe really that amusing?). And I have a return visit to the surgeon in two weeks to see if the operation last year was as successful as they thought at the time. I'm thinking the answer is probably no. In fact I'd take bets.

However the training continues regardless. One of the most challenging being a 20 kilometre hike up and down bloody mountains that we did with our trekking mob last weekend. It was brutal, but a bit of a wake-up call. Which, now that I come to think of it, is what we (at least Cathri, Maria and myself anyway) have said after each heavy bit of training for the past few months! I think we must be napping in between.

But onwards and upwards, and our next training walk will be the hill/&%$*! mountain behind my house next weekend, and then The Run For The Kids in the city on March 14th (where proceeds go to The Children's Hospital). And the latter will actually be a good guide as to how far we've come as it was one of our first training expeditions last year. Either that or it'll be a wake-up call!

March (keeping up...)

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.

March (Breaking news!)

It's official! Kokoda 2009, formerly known as Kokoda 2010, is now to be known (once again) as Kokoda 2010! That's right, we have unanimously (well, almost) decided to postpone the trek until mid next year, probably July-ish. It seems I wasn't the only one with issues - Lyn also needs an operation and would have been running it pretty close, while Maria was having second thoughts about the whole leaving a baby-under-one-year thing (even apart from the logistics of long-distance breast-feeding), and Cathri was rather pleased to gain an extra ten months training time. Unfortunately Lorraine was pretty devastated - but that's mainly because she was actually training with another Kokoda-bound group a few years ago and they all ended up pulling out. So I'm guessing she's concerned it's going to happen again. But it's not! We are Kokoda 2010 and, in exactly sixteen months, we will be wading through mud and fording rivers and scaling cliffs while sweating through horrendous humidity and wearing the same clothes for days on end. Can't wait!

March (decisions)

Well, I've been mulling things over since the last post (while waiting for a miracle, like the sudden onset of advanced healing powers or something), and have finally decided to email all my fellow trekkers and lay the injury/operation situation before them. The way I see it, we have several options:

1. They go without me.

2. We postpone the whole thing till next year, or

3. We continue with preparations, pay our deposits etc - and just hope for the best (like the sudden onset of advanced healing powers or something).

So as soon as I finish here I shall compose a suitably abject yet stoic email and sit back to wait for the response. Although I use the term 'sit back' rather euphemistically, because the act of sitting, especially back, is one of those little luxuries that I used to take for granted but no longer have time for. On top of everything else, I've got my youngest daughter's 14th birthday party this Saturday - and it'll be her first 'proper' mixed party since she became a teenager (i.e. last year). And apparently the pressure is on her (i.e. me) to ensure everything is absolutely perfect, the food is plentiful, everyone has a riproaring time, and not a single child looks even momentarily bored. Unfortunately the forecast is for non-stop torrential rain all weekend - and apparently also, somehow that's my fault.

March (a minor setback)

Being the stoic type, I haven't much mentioned my ongoing injury (torn cartilege) and how that's been affecting training etc. One of the reasons for this is, to be honest, that the effect has been minimal. Just a slight twinge every so often and the handy ability to use the injury as an excellent excuse whenever anybody (usually fitter than I) suggests doing that little bit extra. But now it seems the whole cartilege thing is about to rear its ugly head (how's that for an unattractive image?).

See, the problem is that I was pinning my hopes on the specialist I saw back in January being able to get me an appointment with a surgeon within a specific timeframe. Silly me. What I've ended up with are two appointments (with two different surgeons and at two different hospitals - confused? Me too), neither of which are going to give me enough time to undergo surgery and then recover. Not enough anyway for a somewhat gruelling September hike that involves hills and dales and the occasional cliff face. Bugger.

March (fitness creeps up...)

Well, I'm pleased (in fact, borderline ecstatic) to announce that I'm finally starting to get somewhat fit! I did the 1000 steps this morning and only had to pause five times on the way up, which is a considerable improvement on my standard ten or so. Another way to test our collective rise in fitness levels has been Cathri's face which, a few months ago, used to become a rather alarming fleshy-puce colour but now merely gains a pinkish hue no matter what. Even when she slipped down some rocks last week and landed smack on one particularly jagged protuberance, the colour of her face remained simply flushed (probably for good reason), rather than luridly liverish. This is good not only for Cathri personally (more attractive for starters), but for the rest of us who can now wear red or burgundy etc without fear of violent colour clashing.
However the most amusing thing to happen on that particular hike (up the dreaded firetrack), was when Leanne looked back down at our almost perpendicular ascent and declared herself as having an attack of libido (she meant vertigo). This quite understandably left the rest of us momentarily speechless. I mean, should anybody enjoy rock climbing that much? And, if so, what the hell would they be like on the rugged terrain of Kokoda? Hmm...