Crossing the finish line.
Crossing the finish line.
Marvelling at Lauren’s fallen toenail. Gross but can’t look away (via @ksuyin)
We got a nice massage courtesy of The Body Shop people at the tent next to the finish line, went back to the bach in Kinloch for showers and packed up for a four-hour crampfest in the car. Worked very hard to keep my Matamata Big Mac combo down.
Slept and went back to work on Monday.
We are still a bit short of our fundraising target though and have little time left.
Sarah Heeringa claimed that doing the 100km challenge was harder than childbirth—and she has four children. We believe her.
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Well done girls, not far to go
The Government really had no choice but to end Daylight Savings by this time of the year. Darkness was nipping at our heels—and we’d barely left the Checkpoint 3.
Hang on, a setback! Lauren’s hydration pack had started leaking and we had to page Martin 500m from the checkpoint to come with replacement drink bottles which proved to be an nuisance that escalated to major vexation towards the end.
Half of leg 4 was through bush and we had the company of a mobile iPod team featuring the likes of the Flight of the Conchords, Lily Allen and some other songs we used to love. This was a big help in getting us through the hard yards by momentarily suspending the pain and concentrating on the bad karaoke instead. And my incessant belching.
The other half of leg 4 was a punishing uphill climb over farm land with a portaloo stop at kilometer 57 only to continue with more of the same. I have to say that I fear the downhill bits more than the uphill ones, especially when you’re as graceful as a hippo in a tutu that far into the walk.
Anyhoos, it was important that we made it through this leg in good spirits (which we did, methinks) because it meant that we had a very good chance of actually completing this bloody 100km madness.
And thus, we clocked in at checkpoint 4 a few minutes into midnight. Creepy lit-up dancing man welcomed us. We didn’t stop long at this checkpoint. Things to do, places to be. I also dropped my map into the portaloo toilet. Dammit.
Legs 5, 6 and were an easy 7km romp each although we realise that there were a few cruel twists along the trail—gravel roads that kill your knees, hills, checkpoints that are oh-so-near but we have to walk a convulated trail to get there, et cetera.
Sarah Yetton accompanied us on leg 5. Short-lived company but delightful nonetheless. I cannot remember what we yakked about. Definitely not Coronation Street.
The lovely boys from Tauhara College performed an epic haka when we reached checkpoint 5, the Taupo Gliding Club all dressed up to fit into their M*A*S*H inspired checkpoint 6 base and … nothing special at checkpoint 7 but long loo queues and a panic-stricken me wanting to know where the support crew members are. The first few sentences went like this:
SY: Hello, Martin?
M: Mmerghhhhzzzzhh …!
Fatigued (at one point rang the wrong number—got a random guy at a Saturday night party instead of Haley), injured (“Ahhh, my knees!” –L) and cantakerous (“Haley, why is my hot chocolate so bitter? More sugar! And why is it so lumpy?!” –SY) but sweet, sweet victory is nigh! Nigh!
13km to go. Onwards, my friends!