Well I did it! Almost. But almost counts. I would’ve done it all apart from a blister the size of my head and my impressive lack of fitness.
The Peach Tree Trek was on mothers day weekend. You might recall I was thinking of doing it. Back then, I thought of it as a walk, a jovial stroll if you will, with the option of sitting down at the 1 km mark to admire the view while we wait for the hard corers to return or convincing my walking buddies to wag and sneak a cafe late along the way.
Well let me tell you. There was no wagging. There was no sitting down. And there was no strolling. Alright, there was some strolling but by all intensive purposes this was a trek man.
22km of streets, bridges, sand, mini rainforests, the stunning east coast, caravan parks, boardwalks alive with the smell of fish and chips, hills, down hill rolls, ship wrecks, pine trees, surfers, combie vans and more.
As much as I can no longer feel my arse I had the best time. We chatted about port, red wine, bra’s and breasts post kids, men as fathers, men as boyfriends, men as nincompoops, life, love, and lessons.
Best of all the Trek raised a lot of money for Peach Tree to help families struggling through parenthood.
I realised there is more to me than I thought. I would never previously have done anything like this – too many ‘what ifs’ or ‘buts’ or ‘too busy’, ‘too hard’, ‘too selfish’, ‘too shy’.
The new depth of confidence, calm and pride in myself is immeasurable just by participating in something like this.
I have contributed to the world, in a small way, but in some way. I have left a small mark on history by being there and helping achieve something that will help people I will never meet. And to think, it was only my thoughts stopping me.
I must remember that thoughts need not control me, they will come and go but they need not direct my path unless I want them to.
I must also remember next years mothers day to participate in a fundraiser where I can sit on my butt.