I was taken up Box Hill (which sounds like a euphamism, but isn't) by colleague Dan on Monday after work. Happily he had pals Ben and Laura (recent Kili explorer) to keep him entertained as I wheezed and pulled myself up the steep steep steps and slippery slopes across the North Downs.
Set at their long-leggy pace, we zoomed at breakneck speed up and down for a good two and a half hours - Dan chuckling mirthfully as the sun went down and it quickly became pitch black and not a little bit scary.
Suddenly, looming out of the black night, a sleepy cow came into focus and slowly stood up, snorting, to face our wild torch-beams. Dan froze. "it can sense my fear" he said as he stiffly backed away and we reassessed our options.
What a shame, we had to cut back and take a less steep route back to the car park, and I missed out on the potential asthma attack of my life. Oh well.
It all seemed rather marvellous after a quick half in the pub before training it home and amost immediately falling asleep - the cow still in my thoughts - no doubt plaguing Dan's nightmares.