City2Surf

My Sunday mornings in bed are precious to me. However, like many slightly odd Sydneysiders, I got up yesterday and made my way to Hyde Park in preparation of walking the annual run/walk from the end of William Street to Bondi Beach, via Vaucluse. Trust me when I tell you, that this is not the most direct route!

We started walking at 9.45, having been hanging around in the park since 8am. We didn’t even get a little red baseball cap to wear to keep our heads warm, but lots of pictures were taken though of people doing warm up stretches and generally prancing about.

It wasn’t the hardest walk I’ve done (that would to the 26 miles of RMP March in 1997) but I felt it. I felt it in my hips going down the hills, I felt it in my feet from checkpoint 11 and I felt it in my bum bone when I finally crossed the finish line 3 hours and fifteen minutes after starting! I even got a little medal, I was dead chuffed.

Fun was had during the walk and after, courtesy of the six bottles of bubbles drunk by Edna, hubby and myself in the SwissGrand hotel while waiting for the hoards to disappear so we could travel home.

And inline with doing Poetry at Uni I even wrote a little ditty.
Feedback (as always) appreciated.
(390 words)

Ode to the City2 Surf

I would like to make a case
As to why exercise is bad for you

The other day, I walked
(a long way, I might add)
Into it, I had been talked
For all the fun that could be had

It started in the morning
With dew still on the ground
After waiting, and the sun soaring
The pavement we did pound

Along the street with thousands
Some weaving in and out
I set pace of charging fans
I’ve never been a lout

Heartbreak hill made me puff
My hips protested some
Not one to give up in a huff
I never dreamt to run

Down the other side I went
The sun rays hit my back
The sun block I’d been lent
I missed spots, as is my knack

Liquid was given along the way
Lots plastics laying
Later my feet were to pay
For all the water spraying

My buggered hip did start to groan
After checkpoint ten
Made from plates, bolts of chrome
Home, I did wonder when?

The finish line I did cross
With blisters and much pain
My Sunday morning lost to me
And thoughts of being sane!