Destiny or delusion

I did the jungle run this afternoon in a rare dry spell. Fed up of getting soaked to the skin I decided to run without a shirt. I felt naked but much cooler than normal; I wish I could run like this in Saudi. It might not have been raining this afternoon, but the path I was following had become a stream.

Perhaps it is because I used to find running so hard when I was a kid that I enjoy it so much now. Once I am into my stride, and quite without justification, I always feel like a hero. Today was no exception, especially as ran passed two couples struggling with with the hill over the island. I was rather pleased that they couldn’t see me at the top of the hill though, when my thighs were screaming and I was fighting the urge to walk.

Half way round my route I stopped to talk to one of the climbing guides who was belaying a girl on one of the few dry pieces of rock. He asked me why I wasn’t climbing and then offered to introduce me to a friend of his, a Norwegian, who was looking for a climbing partner. How come this happens on the evening of my last day at Railay? Perhaps I was just not meant to climb here. Or perhaps, as I don’t feel inclined to cancel my ticket and stay longer, I am not so serious about climbing this week. I don’t know.

The crags are changing colour now - as the water seeps through from the jungle above huge black swathes are appearing.