L-R Mortimer Terrace Posse - Joe, Neil, Kimpy, and Matty J - cross the finish line after walking 100km. We rolled in at 7.30am, 25.5 hours after we started. (The clock says 23.5 hours because it was started at 8am the previous morning when the runners set out. We walkers set out at 6am.)
Yup, we did it. We completed the Oxfam Hellwalker 100km challenge. To see our results and the times we did for each leg, click the banner on the side bar. It takes you to our team page.
Things I won't forget about those long 25.5 hours of trudging:
0.02 kms : Neil having to take a pee before we had even walked 100m. We were one of the last teams to leave Taupo domain.
10kms : Some lovely middle aged ladies calling Joe's legs "shapely" and flirting with him like a bunch of school girls.
14.7kms : The sight of Joe's feet like pieces of raw meat that he meticulously dressed at the first checkpoint.
30-odd kms : Neil singing Bring Me Sunshine and telling Tommy Cooper jokes as we strolled across picturesque country.
38.1kms : Running to a checkpoint after ditching my bag with Natalie. Running after walking feels gooooood. So does skipping. Who knew? Then having Natalie put a cup of tea down in front of me without having to say a word. Love her.
50kms : Mugging a marshal for his cup of tea, but finding it wasn't tea at all, it was soup. So disappointed.
55kms : Going into warp speed when the rain began and we were still 2kms from a checkpoint. I couldn't wait for those fat lazy boys to keep up with me. I believe the grass under my feet caught fire.
57.5kms : The chops at checkpoint four - I could have eaten the bone they were so good and I had the Athlete's Hunger.
63.7kms : Getting texts from our pals lounging around back in Wellington.64.5kms : Losing my Waikato Times beanie. Sob.
68.8kms : Turning around to see a line of torches in the dark, like loads of people going to work in the mines.
71.1kms : The lack of bacon sarnies that Oxfam promised us at checkpoint six.78kms : Stopping at an aid station having a blister dressed, thinking my feet were in a bad way, when a guy who hadn't changed his sweaty wet socks for nearly 80kms came in with puckered feet that were shaved raw underneath.
80kms : Hitting the wall on the last real climb, wobbly legs and all. Had to sit down and eat bananas and breathe deeply.
85kms : Singing Dominion Road about five or six times to distract myself from how awful my feet felt. Making a note to thank the salesman at Shoe Clinic for making me buy shoes a size too big.
86.5km : "C'mon, let's get freakin' going!" Getting stroppy when I just wanted the whole thing over with.90kms : Saying "we are so freakin lucky with the weather" about a hundred times - we only had a few drizzle patches when it was meant to hose down the whole time.
94kms : Thinking Matt was wearing a red cap on backwards when the light came up as we walked beside the lake. That was the only hallucination any of us had. Disapponting.
All the time : Every man and his walking stick asking Joe if he had broken his arm on the walk. He was wearing a sling to protect the shoulder that he broke in a bike crash six weeks ago.
Becc's indefatigable chipperness. Sorry we couldn't match your enthusiasm sometimes, Beccy boo. Neil constantly talking about crack, asking when the next (*&(@#*^#$ checkpoint was, and talking to his Beccy boo on the walkie talkie.
100kms : Crossing the finish line to the loud applause of our crew, including a fez-wearing Natalie.
Falling asleep on Joe's lap in the car at 7.35am.
Hot pools. Oh ... my ... GOD
Falling asleep on Joe's lap after going to the hot pools at 6.30pm.
Falling asleep on Joe's lap after dinner at 7.30pm.
Wearing my medal in the car on the way back to Wellington.
Anyway, I'll be sure to post more pics as they come to hand. There are many juicy ones of blisters, and as my big toenails are going black, I may document them over the week. The glamour.
I'm so freakin proud of my team. At about 2.30pm Oxfam took our team picture, then we did an action shot in which we were told to smile and make sure our arms were swinging.