The bike shop guy just stared

"I've enrolled for the Karapoti"

He just kind of stared at me. I shuffled my feet a bit. I smiled - a sane smile I hope.

"You've never really done any mountain biking" he said.

"We'll, I've been mountain biking twice" I explained. Neither time was in the last decade, but hey.

"And I'm fairly fit". Not really untrue. Half-true at least. I'm fit compared to lots of people.

I bike 4 km to work and home again. I run around on a sports field for an hour a couple of times a week, give or take the ten or fifteen minutes I spend subbed off each game taking a break. And I've recently started going to the gym once a week, which includes 30 mins of aerobic exercise.

But I'm not fit compared to people who go for a 60k bike ride, or run marathons. Or half marathons. Or quarter marathons (is there a word for that?). I've never been in a bike race. I don't go jogging. I'm not fit compared to people who do gruelling 4-hour mountain bike races, carrying their bikes up the slippery clay slopes when it gets too steep.

"There's more than just fitness, there's a certain skill level involved" he said, shaking his head in disapproval and taking my bike. There was a long pause as he examined it. "I can have it ready on Wednesday: you'll want to get some rides in." It seems my smile convinced him of my physical soundness, if not my sanity. Now I just have to convince myself.

The Karapoti. 50kms of punishing climbs and steep rocky descents, not to mention the river crossings and bog wading. It's possibly the southern hemisphere's most brutal mountain bike race. My workmates - Brains, Scott and Gordie - have all done races before, though not the brutal Karapoti. It's here, in Wellington, so the logistics of getting all three of them away to a race on a weekend -working around holidays, partners and kids - is manageable. But a team needs four riders. So Scott had a grand idea.


I think this is going to hurt. But now I have a blog - and you dear reader - to share this with so it will all be okay.