Blow me down I nearly forgot!!

I'm so sorry Ronners - I've been so manic of late that I'd forgotten that I'd left untold my tale of terror from Oslo!

You will recall that I visited the city to seek some advice and guidance from some Norwegian Olympic motivational specialists.

You will also recall that I hinted that Norway wasn't exactly stuffed with marathon household names. That can be partly explained by the fact that they haven't got any. Anyway I arranged to meet these three blokes in Oslo after they promised to show me one of their favourite techniques for sharpening up the reactions and mental strength of their athletes.

I should have been wary when I was given the address of the place we were to meet. I'll not bore you with the postcode dear Ronner - but just check the place out below!




Its called the Holmenkoll and it only happens to be the Olympic Ski Jump arena. And the three blokes I'd met didn't know one end of a 10K race from another - but they were Olympic coaches alright. Coaches to the Norwegian Ski Jumping squad.

To cut a long story short they insisted on taking me to the top of the blessed thing - and if you want to know what that's like .....



I have to admit I'm not too keen on the old heights. I usually ask the Half Share in the House or the middle daughter, The Droog, if any ladder work is needed (to be honest, The Droog doesn't even need the ladder now). Now, if that wasn't bad enough - one of the three guys stood eyeing me up, rather unnervingly scratching his beard and then, muttering something inaudible, chucked a load of ropes at his two mates and, nodding and smiling in my general direction they began to strap me into some kind of harness.

I cannot begin to describe what was going through my mind at this point. In a strange kind of way I was comforted by the fact that I couldn't see any skis - so I didn't think I was going down the ski jump. But what on earth were they going to do with me?

The answer was as swift as it was terrifying.

They were only going to hoy me off the top of the chuffing thing!

I kid you not. And that's exactly what they did. They strapped me into a boon and swung it and me over the side of the ski jump tower some 300 feet above the ground and then ... well, basically I was told to make my way down. Yup, I was doing something called freefall abseiling. As I went over the side I do remember breaking wind in one of those worrying ways. I think I also whimpered something.

Then I shat myself.

I'm sorry for being so graphic but it was quite simply one of the most frightening three minutes of my life. So, I made my way gingerly down the rope and after what seemed like ten minutes I looked up to see a Norwegian head about a yard from my face. The face seemed to be rather taken aback by the fact that I was still there - I'd only dropped about two feet at this point - only another 298 to go! As I made a brave attempt to lower myself I was caught repeatedly by gusts of wind and battered against the side of this towering structure.

Bit by bit, inch by inch, whimper by whimper I made my way down. The technique is to pull on the rope to lower yourself. And after about ten minutes I got used to this technique. I didn't say I was enjoying it - but I got used to it. It was then that I had a sudden horrifying thought. I recall Mr Benzone, our Science teacher at St Gabs Primary indicating to me that I may need some knowledge of some of his 'stupid' scientific theories at some point in my life. And I think I was about to reach such a point in my life.

Yup. I'd reached half way. And that pulling motion to ease my down? No longer required. Instead just a desperate need for this kiddie to hang on to the blessed rope for dear life to stop myself plummeting to a painful and lonely death on the side of some Norwegian mountain.

I managed it dear Ronner. Managed it with smoke billowing from my hands after gripping that chuffing rope so tight.

And, in conclusion, let me tell you this. I will never, ever, ever, ever trust a Norwegian in my life again.

"But you must feel great now?" "Wow what a sense of achievement". They crowed.

Rubbish.

My pants still smell now.

Keep on tapering.

Ron