This weekend I have faced a lot of fears. I'm sure it was good for me.

On Saturday I went to 'Go Ape'. I got there looked up at the platforms and thought to myself 'oh, that's not so bad, it's not as high as I thought it would be'. That's not precisely what I thought when I got up to the top of the rope ladder. Looking down at that point may have been a mistake.

But I made it round, I jumped off platforms, and walked along wires and wooden logs at some stupid height above the ground. After the first half hour I began to enjoy it, when I realised that there was a fair chance that I might not die. Problem is now that when I think back to it and remember what things looked like from half way up a tree I'm inclined to get more scared of the memory than I was of the experience at the time.

Ho hum, I never said I was normal.

I also have some beautifully coloured bruises (I didn't have to be rescued, but I was definitely the most obviously injured member of the group).

So then on Sunday I was going to have a nice quiet day..? No. Red Cross duty in the morning and Red Cross Assembly in the evening. The Assembly started with a wonderful conversation in setup.

J - Are you sure the mic is on?
me - Yes, it's definitely coming out this speaker
J - Are you sure?
me - Yes, it's definitely coming out this speaker
J - So is it on now?
me - Yes, it's definitely coming out this speaker
J - Is it loud enough?
me - Yes
J - Can they hear it over there?
me - Yes, it's definitely coming out this speaker

At this point I apprently became the expert on the sound system. This is amusing on two levels: 1) I really hate microphones. 2) I tend to look at electronics and cause them to die. It's a miracle it all worked out.

Then it got worse when the President started asking me for advice on public speaking in from of the expected 150 people, as apparently I looked calm, collected and like I knew what I was doing. I'm glad I looked like that. I was also presenting, but presenting someone elses words. This meant a lot of rewriting an hour before hand to turn it into something that I could say without tripping over myself, and without offending the author. Given that I hate presenting from scripts, or with anything in my hands this was never going to be much fun, and talking to about 200 (as it turned out) from a script, with a microphone in one hand, does roughly come under my heading of 'things to avoid at all costs'. And there wasn't even any chocolate to be had.

Still, I survived. Apparently it came across well, and lots of people now know me as 'The one who's deserting us'.

So I've spent a lot of this weekend scared, a fair amount high on adrenaline. Like I said, I'm sure it was good for me, but maybe a quiet few weeks would be nice now.