Tuesday, 14 March 2017


I just about passed out as I looked up at the start of the steep hill, regretting my decision, I couldn't  turn back now. I started jogging and my legs started hurting. I said to myself,  “This is not going to be fun”.

 I kept on striding on as a stream of sweat trickled down my face. I could see the top of the hill now, I shuffled up the steep slippery track.I stopped and took a long and helpful swig from my water bottle that had been in a sweaty backpack for the past half an hour - yuck! 

Minutes that felt like hours later, me and my mum had moved about 100 metres. As I ran, bugs and bumble bees zoomed past my face like Usain Bolt sprinting past the crowd.

 The sun shone on our faces as we lay down in the long grass taking a break. The grass swayed left and right as if it was waving to us, persuading us to keep going. So we got back up and started shuffling up the hill.  An hour later my skin had so many wrinkles it looked like I was a prune. The top was in sight, I started jogging step by step. I scuffled up the hill as the hot sun sizzled my face like a sausage.  We were getting closer and closer, it seemed to be taking forever, I couldn't bear it.  Minutes later we were finally at the top of the hill, it felt like I had won a half marathon. Now I have to go down the other side and finish.

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