Photo by Josh Riemer on Unsplash

Your brain can lie to you. Here’s how I found out.

I didn’t see physical exercise modelled as a youngster.

Both my parents had experienced disabling setbacks early in life, so couldn’t model it. As a result, even though I wasn’t overweight, I was a couch potato up until my 40’s. When Dad died of bowel cancer at 65, I began to question my lifestyle’s merits.

My pastor-buddy comes along and says, Fancy a climb in Snowdonia?

Hmmm. Haven’t seen them thar hills up in north Wales. Why not?

There was a catch: 14 Welsh peaks. 3 days.

Ah.

Still. How hard can that be? Packed up the car, off we went.

Day 1 — Six peaks

Tired by day’s end, but OK.

Day 2 — Five more

By day’s end, whacked and sore.

Dawn breaks Day 3

Socked in with rain. Our guide announces, We’ll just do Snowdon — the other two are too dangerous in the weather.

But my legs are sullen. Sore and stiff don’t do them justice.

Just 10 minutes up from the bottom, something in my brain Vomits.

Not playing this game any more.

My guide and pastor-buddy plead. But my brain is having none of it. You guys go. I’ll wait down here.

Then out of a dark corner, another voice says ….

- Five more minutes of climbing. Never mind the Top. Just five more.

- OK. I can do that.

And then, another five.

Two hours later, at the top, I realise:

When your brain is telling you your fuel tank is empty …. it isn’t.