The joy of fellrunning: mud, sweat and solidarity

What helps me and my fellow fellrunners carry on when we are silently cursing every step? Eccentricity, resilience and a strong sense of camaraderie

I shuffle skyward as I sweat profusely; I am a horrible, leaking mess. The nearby bracken is also perspiring, after the early morning mist has cleared. Lakeland sunshine and warm summer air, without any breeze, envelopes me – it’s much like climbing up through a tropical armpit. This is fellrunning: “A bit like cross-country running, on drugs,” as offered recently by a friend. I tell myself that I’m never, ever going to do it again. The faces around me express a similar message. There is no need for words.

A male voice among the collage of colourful vests suddenly disrupts the universal pain and anguish: “It’s my 60^th birthday today – would anyone like to sing me happy birthday…?” Chuckles ripple freely as we all continue ascending slowly. I return to gasping for air while silently cursing every step. Even smiling is painful. As always, I know this feeling is only temporary. Then something amazing occurs: we actually do start to sing happy birthday.

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from Fitness | The Guardian http://ift.tt/1zSZBDI

via FITNESS