Today is the last full day before we begin my run across Australia, and I’m ready to go. There are no nerves, no hesitations, only a curiosity to see what it’s going to be like. I’m ready, in every sense of the word.
I suppose after six years of on-again off-again planning and trying to get to the starting line here in Oz, my reason to run across this country has changed dramatically from wanting to inspire the masses through a dedicated campaign message to, now, wanting to get out there and run, baby, run, just to see if I can. I just want an adventure and to do something hard again. To focus on one basic thing day after day and push. It’s about my will to survive this trip, to have that kind of will one needs when the going gets real tough. Funny how just wanting to persist through a thing is reason enough to do it.
Six days ago I touched down on Australian soil with tears filling up in my eyes. I turned to Henley and said, “We made it.“ I don’t think he could see my tears; they could’ve just passed as glossy, sleepy eyes from having just woken up after a 14-hour plane ride from Los Angeles. “Making it to the starting line is an achievement in and of itself,” so I’ve been told, and I believe it. I cannot believe how much toil, hard work, worry, contemplation, planning, joy, anticipation, and emotional stress has gone into “running across Australia one day” over these years that I’ve been in and out of planning for this thing. It’s bizarre how I’m here now, and yet the trip still hasn’t hit me fully. I don’t think it will until tomorrow morning when we begin.
On that note, we have had some awesome experiences so far in Darwin. We are staying with a host, John, who is a 56-year-old Ironman triathlete. Impressive. He’s treated us so well and taken great care of us; he even picked up a bike laying on the side of the road for me to use to get around. We are so grateful to be able to rest and feel at home preparing these last few days. Thanks John!!
I will say that not one Australian has warned us of “things that can kill you out there.” All these warnings (i.e. snakes, etc.) come from our friends and family in the United States. Funny how we fear what we don’t know or understand. Here’s a great email I received the other day:
“Watch out for the crocs, the blue ring octopus, the red back spiders, the death adders, the wild boars, the water buffalo, the stone fish, the great whites and the tiger sharks, the sting rays and the drunks in the bar. P.S. Don’t pat the dogs outside the pubs or on the utes – they will bite your arm off.”
This is the entire email, that’s it.
This came from the 2012 Australian Adventurer of the Year, our Aussie friend who has also done several runs across lands, including the Simpson Desert here in Australia. I kind of think he was being sarcastic. Perhaps he was just reiterating all the things we probably should have already heard from people who don’t have a clue about what they’re talking about 🙂
One thing I’ve learned about fear: preparation is key. Preparation has taken away many of my irrational fears and filled my mind with rational expectations. We have prepared to go through physical challenge, and into territory with very few water sources and the occasional innocent snake. It’s all part of our great expectations. You’ve thought about it all, mostly. Preparation.
Random fun fact about Australia: there is a boat race in Alice springs, the city in the dead center of this nation, along the Todd River. The Todd actually doesn’t have any water in it. Imagine people standing in their boats, legs through holes in the bottom, moving along, like modern Flintstones. This is just so quintessentially Australian Outback; “where the heck is all the water?!”
Speaking of the Outback, I’d say about half the cars here in Darwin are Land Cruisers, or Utes (slang for for utility vehicle), and most have snorkels on them. When it’s wet season here, taking a car out of town you will most likely have to drive halfway underwater through huge puddles here in the Northern Territory. I find this hilarious.
Well, my friends, here’s to a great adventure, safety, and the courage to say yes.
I’ll email from our next WiFi spot, Katherine, about 12 days down the road.
Hugs!!!
Katie
