Stamina

Stamina

Taran has offered to train me up in running.  He’s not happy about my shoes as they look worn but accepts that it is expensive to buy some more when these still get me from A to B.  My first session is from our campsite in the Ardeche.  I am very rusty and stop on the first incline.  I make an excuse that we should look at the view (which is extremely beautiful) but he’s not falling in line with that. He then says ‘Mum if you are not going to die, do yourself any harm or you aren’t on the verge of collapse then don’t listen to what your body tells you and keep going’.  I’ve always known mentally and physically that I give up very easily so these words from my trainer do register, he’s right.  And for the next half hour does help.  Mind over matter etc. 

 

But there is no way I could have done what Taran ad Kelty did today.  They cycled 13km up hill on one of the Tour de France routes.  Taran without stopping and Kelty with two stops (one for oil and one to take off his jacket).  I was the support vehicle.  They left our Cascade Campsite, which was at the bottom of the Alpes D’Huez and two hours 16 minutes were at the chilly snowcapped ski resort top.  It was utterly remarkable.  Taran burst into tears with anger and probably exhaustion but apparently it is a common emotional reaction after such an achievement and physical challenge.  The woman who runs the only café at the top witnesses this every day as cyclists get to the final point. 

I am very proud of them both. It was incredible watching such determination and stamina.  And I know they are my son and husband but to be able to do that at 10 and 59 is extraordinary.   I will be inspired by them in my running training.

The second big event of the day was watching Juventus against Atalanta in Turin.   I sat in the van in a dark road near the stadium and caught up on phone calls as I heard the roars from the stadium outside.  It was a disappointing draw but Taran experienced the unmatchable electric patriotic cheering atmosphere of an Italian football game and also saw Rinaldo in the flesh even though he was apparently ‘skied it’ with one of the goals.   

At midnight we rolled into a strange urban campsite somewhere in Turin.  It was called an ‘Urban Eco resort’ but have no idea what that means.  It was a parking lot with some rather grubby showers and toilets.  But in our California we are fine wherever we are and what a fantastic day of sport for the boys and friend catch up for me.  Tomorrow to Florence to see my good buddy Elly, I am excited.