Magpies, Quail, Skinks and Dinosaurs

An impromptu 8km walk on Tuesday convinced me the hip was up to starting impact training again, so Thursday the leggings and Icebreaker went back on, and after much procrastination, dreading the predictable loss of fitness, I headed back out onto the Wilton hills and slogged out 8km in 1hr13mins. The hills were walked but as ¨everyone walks the hills¨ I didn´t feel too much of a slack wimp.

For the first time, as I ran through the old farm, I understood the full terror of Alfred Hitchcock´s ¨The Birds¨ as I got dive bombed by magpies. Where was the cricket bat when I needed it? Those things are loud and mean and don´t take the panicked ¨expletive off¨ from a runner at all seriously!

Having run every combination of tracks around the local area, I ran Thursday´s route in reverse (more magpie dive bombing) - and took a whole minute off my time! Having said that, I felt a darn sight more tired, pre-run, than I had yesterday, so I was surprised I was marginally quicker. Not as fast as the quail I saw disappearing into the bush around Karori Cemetery, but if I saw a huge fuchsia giant pounding the road towards me, I´d head for the bush line too.

On Saturday I decided to see if the goat track was still in place between our former home in Wadestown and Ngaio Gorge, primarily so that I could link up with it, from here, in future. Having not been able to find the starting point of the descent (from Wadestown) I went for attack plan b: go for a run and see if you can find the other end.

Parking at one of the laybys, I ran up Ngaio Gorge as I had done the previous week, and made my way up to the top of the Crow´s Nest, headed one hilltop towards Kaukau, turned right and descended back into Ngaio, along the main road and back into the gorge.

It was a tough run. Only 11kms, but it took 1hr45mins and I´d consumed both my Leppins (my breakfast = a measly small bowl of muesli) en route. I didn´t stop for photos or breathers or to watch the skink as he disappeared into the undergrowth, only for a toilet stop (oh to be male, rather than dropping the pants behind a gorse bush - ouch!) and ended up walking the flats and trudging the downhills.

Towards the end of the run back in the gorge, I detoured across the reconstructed bridge and newly concreted steps that went over the Kaiwharawhara stream and up towards the railway line that we´d clambered across in previous years (usually on Sundays when there had been no train service).

There was certainly no sign of a path continuing beyond the rail line. In the last 15years trees and plant life had covered the area and the goat track had been replaced by dinosaur footprints - hard to find, potentially non existent and no one´s actually saying where they are.

By the time I got home, I was so hungry I was ready to vomit. A strange feeling, but fortunately one easily remedied by eating most of the fridge.