Have you ever told yourself you’ll get fit – soon?  Well, as the saying goes, be careful what you wish for!

It’s Saturday.  Nanette and I are in beautiful Noosa Heads with friends C and W.  Someone has suggested it would be ‘great fun’ to check out one of the tracks in the nearby national park.  “How about we walk to Hells Gates”, suggests C.  I shudder, casting my mind back to the time, long ago, when we dragged two small children along that long, hot, dusty oceanside track. “Sounds great”, I lie, “when would you like to go?” “Now, of course”.

So, a short while later, we find ourselves standing at the top of a small bluff looking out across the amazingly calm sea.  Too proud to admit we’re out of breath after completing less than a third of the track, we pretend to watch the motley collection of surfers below.  The surfers, too proud to admit there are no waves, pretend they’re waiting for a tsunami from the recent earthquake in New Zealand.

A little further on, we come across a lone woman sitting on a rock.  When we make our acquaintance, she explains, “my husband went fishing on those rocks down there.”  We all turn to look at the slippery, wave washed rocks far below.  There is indeed a man standing in what appears to be the most dangerous spot.  “Why does he fish there?” ask I.  “Oh no,” says she, “that’s not my husband.  He got washed off two months ago. Shark got him.”  We all gasp, but then she winks and adds, “just kidding.  That is my husband. But – maybe – one day …”

We’re still chuckling when we reach what we believe to be the end of the track.  The infamous Hells Gates, where, as the dramatic signage warns, “Serious injury or death could result from leaving the walking track.”  We’re extremely grateful for the opportunity to rest our weary legs while we stop to (safely) gaze at two sea turtles diving in the wild maelstrom way down below the cliff.  Then, a couple of local seniors jog up beside us.  “Are you turning back here” they ask, “or are you doing the second stage?”  What? You mean there’s more?  We take the easy option and pretend we didn’t hear them.   And, as they trot away with a cheery wave, we convince ourselves we definitely didn’t see them disappear down a that ‘other’ cliff-top path.

Fast forward a week.  We’re now a little ways up the coast, staying with other friends at Hervey Bay.  I’m feeling a bit smug that the app on my phone has just announced “your average step count is significantly more than last week.”  And, so it should be!  Staying with our especially energetic hosts means Nanette and I have walked our little tails off all week.  I’m just finishing my morning coffee when friend B asks “do you still want to do our regular early morning walk today?”  I have a nasty feeling that there may be a catch here.  “Because there’s a great little 5km park run here each Saturday morning.”

“Walk you say?  Sure – sounds great!”