The Hardest Day

Whether you're hiking across a mediterranean island, or making the most of a snowy week in the alps, whenever you commit to a period of activity that spans more than a few days, Day Two is a killer.

Day One is easy. Other than a bit of last-minute faffing to overcome, you're generally starting from a state of  rest, with your mind set to take that first step. Soon enough Day One is all but done, and on completion, you're left with the proud glow of a journey well begun.



..and then the cold light of Day Two dawns, and with it, the achey payoff of Day One's exploits. You consider how much worse you feel this morning than you did yesterday, and you dread that a similar effort today will leave you feeling worse still tomorrow. With the sickening fear that as bad as you feel this morning might be the best you'll feel for many days to come, it suddenly feels like that mountain just got a lot bigger, and lot steeper.

The steel-willed may relish this heightened sense of challenge that Day Two brings, but those that have been here before may feel a certain familiarity, and with it the comforting knowledge that once Day Two out of the way, the challenge only gets easier. Each day that is overcome provides one more accomplishment to take forward, to one less trial. Inevitably there comes a growing realisation that you can climb this mountain, day by day, step by step.

Very soon, us Janathoners (Janathonists?) will be getting into our grooves. We'll revise our routines, and pick up good habits, and each day, instead of dwelling on the achievements of our last run, our minds will focus on the preparation for tomorrow's. Unthinkingly, we'll be motivating ourselves by treating every "yesterday" like a Day Two, and every "tomorrow" like a Day One.

Well done all those that overcame the Hardest Day. The only thing that should stop you now is February.