Triple Hurl 2024
Best Day Of The Year
This weekend was the only Christmas party I care for, the (now annual) Triple Hurl, an all day running and drinking affair. In its third year of existence, still just five of us have completed it.
It goes like this:
We meet at Claggan Park, Fort William, at 1145am on (normally) the first Saturday in December. Each of us bring a can of beer (as exotic as you like) and it goes into a lucky-dip. We select a beer each, drink it as fast as we can, then sprint the mile uphill to Achintee Inn at the foot of the Ben Nevis tourist path.
The pub opens at midday, so after brief hands-on-knees recovery from our beer mile, we have a pint. When finished, we run to the halfway point of the Ben. Normally there’ll be some whisky miniatures here (for warmth), before descending back to the pub. We need to have two pints here, because the drinks increase after every high point.
From here we jog back down the road (this year we stopped halfway for a stone throwing competition at a road sign - a welcome addition to the schedule) before climbing Meall an t-Suidhe via the race route. We managed to climb and descend in fading but sufficient light this year, and the steep, grassy slopes are always extra joyous after a couple of drinks.
After this we jog to Fort William town centre, where we must have at least three drinks before tackling Cow Hill. By this time it’s dark, of course, we’re probably quite hungry, a bit cold, and more than a bit drunk. But even if we walk most of the climb and roll through the bog and heather all the way down, at no point does it feel anything other than the deep joy and comedy you get by spending time with a damn good bunch of like-minded folk.
Frankly, these are the kinds of people you want to hang out with. People who would just as soon carry you off the hill or out the pub, and not blink at either. But also who understand that they’ll likely never need to do it, because everyone can look after themselves. People who don’t take the things they do too seriously, but still approach them with commitment. People you can laugh at and expect to be laughed back at.
Some runners will sneer at the drinking; some drinkers will sneer at the running. Personally, I don’t care for either type. Contrary to opinion, it is possible to enjoy both things to their fullest extent. Sometimes even simultaneously. But it’s the truth of both archetypes: runners take themselves too seriously; drinkers not seriously enough.
Now, you could make the argument that going hill-running in winter, in minimal clothing, and after at least seven beers is deeply irresponsible, but you’d be missing the point. And if you did, I probably wouldn’t be inclined to argue with you, because you probably just don’t get it.
For me, part of the fun of hill-running is getting to spend time with friends doing a simple activity for which there are no set rules. One which feels purposeful yet boundless. Really, the beauty of it is that it’s so simple it can be incorporated into other parts of your life, even nights out.
Life, for me, has always been about balance. But awareness of that doesn’t mean it’s always been attainable, or consistent. My teens and twenties were almost entirely conscripted by drinking, dancing and other associated activities. I don’t regret it, but if I did it again, I’d strive for a little more balance. A little more purpose. A little more like the day out we had yesterday. Balance, not compromise.
You can do it all if you find the right context, and the right people. In fact, I’d say it’s vital for your health. Everything in moderation, including moderation.
Lots of people who think they live balanced lives are probably existing on some median line of compromise. Never too high, never too low, maybe. But the dips are probably deeper than the highs. Besides, how are you supposed to trace a line through the middle if you’ve never explored the edges?
I’ve been feeling quite fatalistic lately. But not in a dark way. Maybe optimistically nihilistic is a better description. At any rate, I’ve just been a bit fuckit about everything. Money, work, expectations… All the stuff you stress about now but will never think about in the end. It’s a regaining of perspective, a realisation of what makes you feel happy and alive right now, because you never know when now might be over. There are things you might do today, or next week, or in three month’s time, that you won’t be able to do in ten years.
What about in twenty? Thirty? I struggle to think about that, and so I’d rather not. I’d rather just do it now.
(Oh, and if you’re wondering why we’re all in shirts, it’s because we were deeply influenced by this Satisfy film.)