The dreaded 'Wall' has risen up from nowhere.
The first time we met: Keswick Half Marathon, just past Grange, after 10 miles of running. My lungs were empty and every inch of my body was stinging. My toenail was hanging off, though I didn't know that at the time.
We met again: somewhere on the descending slope of Whernside. I'd been walking for about 7 hours, my feet were swollen and soggy in my boots, I'd been awake since 4:30am. I'd climbed to the top of Yorkshire. The heel of my foot was double in size and my toenail was hanging off, though I didn't know that at the time.
Now, we meet for a third time.
I've been sitting down for 7 hours a day for the past 4 weeks. I've been reading, writing, typing. Somehow, this is the equivalent of running 10 miles, of climbing 2 peaks, of feeling like a big slice of pain. My toenails are all in tact, I've checked.
This is a different challenge; running harder and faster for 10 minutes or singing Disney songs probably won't help.
Grrr I hate the term 'the Wall'. Yet I still have to call it that, because that's what it is, and it deserves such an appropriately uninventive title. I couldn't bring myself to call it 'the Wall' until I reached it for myself, then I understood why it was 'the Wall', and not ' the Breaking Point' or 'the Limit' or something similar; walls can be climbed over, after all.
To bear in mind: Our first two meetings have come during the two challenges which rank in my Top Two Achievements list. Maybe this will all be worth it.