Drugs, jabs and thermal underwear: 7 weeks out

It is now a mere 7 weeks until I head off on my trek. Lots of people are asking me if I'm getting excited, and quite frankly the answer is not yet. Aside from the fact that I don't tend to get excited about things until a few days before, there is lots happening at the moment, which is rather distracting me from thoughts of Peru.

My brain is a douchebag

Training has been a little difficult recently as I've been feeling pretty wiped out and kind of low the past couple of weeks. On Wednesday, following the first meltdown in several months, I made the decision to go back onto a full dose of antidepressants. For someone as obsessed with succeeding at everything as I am, that wasn't easy, but my therapist obviously managed to teach me something, because I'm not looking at it as a failure, just something that is necessary right now.

Since leaving therapy, the learning hasn't stopped. Perhaps one of the toughest lessons has been that all the therapy and all the meds in the world won't sort out some of the things that make me low, but I'm keen to try and remain as positive as I can. During one session later on in my treatment, my therapist told me not to stop fighting. I don't intend to.

On the plus side, Mumma C baked me a cake :)

7 weeks out

...which means next week is 6 weeks, meaning jab time. I get to bombard my body with typhoid and tetanus next Thursday, which should be all kinds of fun. I'm also nearing the end of the kit-buying frenzy. Thanks to a Millets voucher I got for my birthday, I have a silk sleeping bag liner to help keep me toasty warm at night, and have recently purchased a set of highly erotic thermal underwear. Check this out: 

Cat Woman wishes she could rock this.

As if that wasn't hot enough, I also bought a money belt, (I didn't dare don both for the photo for fear of causing grown men to swoon) which is a mere sidestep from the revered bumbag. The Peruvians better watch out.

And those Stairs of Death I mentioned? Dave sent Amanda and me some reassuring links to articles featuring Huayna Picchu, most of which include the words 'scariest' or 'dangerous' in the title. Good.

Nettles, death stairs and no more ice cream

The past couple of weeks have proved to be so busy I'm barely getting any training done. Some of you will have heard about my somewhat farcical trip to Marseille last week, which pretty much wiped me out completely, putting a stop to any thought of training.

Having conquered the nettles, Nik and I
find Silbury Hill

I did, however, smash a 15 km walk with my good friend Nik the weekend before last, an epic journey which took us back to the Neolithic period (not literally, this isn't Doctor Who). We rambled around the standing stones of Avebury, scaled a hill that was steeper than it looked, found ourselves in a dried up stream bed full of stinging nettles, gawped at a man-made mound with apparently no function whatsoever (Silbury Hill), scrambled up to an ancient tomb, and finished up at the pub with a well deserved pulled pork sandwich.

For this trip I duly donned my hiking boots and pack, c
omplete with the things I'll be lugging through the Andes (water, snacks, waterproofs, first aid kit, sun cream etc). And it has to be said I had a great time.

Making new friends

As well as walking with an old friend, I've been making new ones: last week I got in touch with the two people I'm going to Peru with - a brother and sister who seem like jolly decent folks. There's only three of us, because apparently everyone else pulled out. In the spirit of unconquerable optimism I'm taking this to mean we are the totally badass ones who are game for this high altitude challenge. I wonder if they're training with the codpiece masks too??

Image courtesy of grindtv.com

They've invited me on their trip up Huayna Picchu, a 7am start to scale the mountain that overlooks the city of Machu Picchu. On Googling this for an image, I have just found out that there is a section of the climb called the Stairs of Death. Good. Nothing to worry about there, then. I will absolutely not be shitting my pants all the way to the summit.

Getting back on the horse

The plan is to get back on the horse this week. Several people have recommended some nearby walks and my sparring buddy Andy took a brief break from trying to punch me in the face to offer a book he has with lots of walks through Kent, some of which include the Downs (hill training is getting kind of essential now) and some good pubs. I'm starting to worry that I won't be able to complete the trek without a pub break, which I'm assuming will be problematic unless some English chap has set up a Red Lion somewhere along the trail. Doubtful.

Lastly, I have sworn off ice cream and am attempting to cut back on sugar until the trek is over. This is proving difficult, but my trainer has kindly offered to eat lots of ice cream on my behalf in the meantime. This man is supposed to be a good influence on me...