Want to Lose Weight? Trying Eating Dust.

I need to get fit. Much as I have loved the last 5 months of adventuring, it has not been good for my health.

Too much beer, too many cakes and too long sitting on long-haul transportation has done terrible things to my body. I am fatter than ever before, my muscle has shriveled to the point of uselessness and my cardiovascular system probably resembles a set of bellows.

NEVERTHELESS, this seems like the perfect motivation to improve and become MORE POWERFUL THAN EVER BEFORE! Before I left in March, my training had reached a state of maintenance – I wasn’t really improving at anything, simply staying at the same level of fitness.  

Tough Guy Nettle Warrior 2013

On Sunday morning, with hangovers that would kill lesser men, the Guild of Adventures donned our running gear (I made mine by taking a knife to my trousers), wrapped socks around our shoes to keep them on…and strode out onto the Killing Fields of Tough Guy Nettle Warrior 2013…

Murderbeers nice and clean before Tough Guy Nettle Warrior 2013…

…17km of barricades, lakes, fires, stinging nettles, electric shockers, fire, mud and cramp… In short, just about the greatest experience we have ever had.

Highway 97

Once I am out of Mossburn, I stop to catch my breath and readjust my backpack, which already weighs a ton.

My knees throb and the lunacy of attempting to run 22km in this condition has dawned on me. Still, at least I have made some good distance towards Five Rivers.

Casually I check my watch for my progress. I have been running for 10 minutes.

Oh shit.

Luckily, I consumed all my food and water whilst walking 130km through the mountains, so my pack is the lightest it has been all week.

Unluckily, I consumed all my food and water whilst walking 130km through the mountains…so I have nothing to sustain me on this run…and my legs are already like jelly.

Painful, painful jelly.

A Slight Hitch…Hike

Today, I shall hitch hike back to Queenstown from Te Anau, after a week of walking in the mountains.

Sarah and I have managed to get as far as Mossburn; I have jumped out at the turnoff for Queenstown and she has continued on to Dunedin, on her way back home to Candada.

So here I stand, on Highway 97, waiting for a ride. For two hours.

This is not a huge length of time in hitch-hiking terms, but perhaps ten cars have passed me in total. The statistics are obvious; there simply isn’t enough traffic for me – a bearded and angry looking man – to stand any chance of getting picked up. More to the point, I am bored.

Not a fan of standing still or turning back, I pull out a map and do some pondering. Quickly, I realise I am standing in a bad place, logistically speaking.

Adventurethon 2013

Somehow, friends, I did it. 13km of open sea kayaking, 22km of mountain biking and 12km of trail running in the midday Australian summer heat.

It was horrendously hard…but not for the reasons I expected.

I expected the kayaking to be the killer. I’d never tried it before and I was certain I’d just capsize and never get back in. However, although I capsized the very moment the race started, I managed to get back in and – somehow – stay afloat.

In the end, the kayaking leg only took me an hour and a half, which was actually a little faster than quite a few of the other competitors.

That’s not to say it was easy; it ripped my hands to shreds and obliterated every muscle in my body, but I was fresh and far too concerned with falling into the sea to worry about the exhaustion.

However.

The real killer of the course was the mountain bike element. Basically, I can’t mountain bike. I could cycle on the road but, as soon as I hit the mountainous parts of the course, I’d simply hit a rock and fall off the bike. In the end, I had no other option (for the sake of my bones) than to carry the bike for the best part of 22km, which took me 2 hours and 41 minutes.

Then it was time for the run and, by that point, I was cooked. The sun had baked me in my long sleeved black running shirt (what was I thinking?!) and, before I’d covered 1/4 of the distance, I collapsed into the mud and could not get back on my feet…

Eventually, I stripped off, cooled down and managed to get moving again. By the time I crossed the finish line, however, it had taken me 3 hours to run 12km, which is a new low – even when you consider I got lost in the bush for the best part of an hour.

Here, for your amusement, is a local news video of my performance…in all its comedy glory.

Burn In Heaven

I have not finished…but I am finished. I am also lost. In the Australian bush. God damn it.

I have nothing left. The kayaking stole my strength, the mountain biking crushed my spirit and now here I am, face down in the sand.

I am not getting up.

I don’t even want to.

This is the most exhausted I have ever been in my entire life. If there was ever going to be a time to give up, this is it. Nobody would blame me and nobody would be surprised.

This was a bad idea from the start – the embarrassing, pathetic start.

Flood Running: Flunning.

Today was my first off-road run of 2013 and my first since a traumatic body-building workout with Robser Le Monster.

I decided to try a 10km route my dad showed me before I ran the Wycombe Half Marathon in 2011. So, to the sounds of Apocalyptic Love by Slash, I headed out into the chilly February evening.

After 2km, I was ready to go home; my knees hurt from sliding in the mud, my already painful spine was jarring with every step that landed in a hole, and the brambles were tearing at my arms.

It was about then I discovered the water. Yes, the water.

Unbeknownst to me, the River Thames is quite high at the moment about about a kilometre of my route had been flooded. When I say flooded, there were ducks and geese swimming across the fields. It was the first time I’ve ever wanted a camera on a run.

Turning back (or acting with any sense), however, is both tedious and lame. Thus, with the disturbingly green liquid lapping at my balls, I trudged on at a variety of paces from ‘adventurous stride’ to ‘pissed off wading’. At no point, luckily, did I have to swim. Things weren’t that bad.

The water cleared by around the 3km mark, but by 4km or 5km I was wondering why I was still running. Everything hurt. Apart from my lungs, which seems to be holding up.

Come 6km, however, I was back on a levle surface and had found my stride. By the time I hit 8km (running through a cemetary, I believe) I was on a high – I practically sprinted home, even finding the energy to sing along to the last few tracks of the album, hurdle occassional patches of flooded and nail a sprint finish up Abbey Road.

Overall, I clocked a bad time for under 11km. Then again, considering it was off-road and I had to wade through flood water for a a tenth of the route, I think I did OK.

The Same Run As Before. BUT TWICE!

Today, I decided that running 6km at a time was going to get me nowhere fast. Or rather, it would get me exactly 6km…and rather slowly. Useless. The only thing within a 3km radius of my house is Tesco Express and, if I want to go there, I’ll drive. For one thing, it is a petrol station and, for another, I can’t very well run with bags of over-priced shopping.

So instead, I decided to run 10km – a more respectable distance. Living in the land of hills, however, there is only so much flatish ground to run on, so I decided to run my fairly level 6km route, then do the initial 2km out and back again.

However, by the time I reached the 8km point I thought “…I’ve come this far…I may as well just do the whole route twice”. [That is a heavily edited version of my actual thoughts].

So that’s what I did.

In the process, I listened to the entire of Rammstein’s Liebe Ist Fur Alle Da (only 45 minutes long, I discovered!) and the first few songs off Reise Reise. In total, 65 minutes – not bad for an unfit buffoon running 12km.

All in all, it felt pretty good. There were a couple of tougher moments but, given that it was twice as far as the last couple of weeks, not bad. I mean, still pretty bad. But not as bad as I was expecting.

Adventurethon…

According to the Native American calendar, the 22nd of March will see the end of the Wolf Month and the start of the Month of the Falcon. Oh, it will also be two year to the day since I started this blog…

In honour of this tradition of naming months after kickass animals (as well as some disappointing animals like goose, beaver and salmon), I will have flown 10,000 miles to Townsville, Australia. There, I will be preparing to take part in the festival of awesomeness and multi-sport extravaganza known…as Adventurethon!

Held in what looks like paradise, Adventurethon is essentially an off-road, more badass version of a triathlon. It’s like a triathlon that can wear a bandanna without looking ridiculous and rides stunt motorcycles in its spare time, but doesn’t even bring that up in conversation.

I’m not saying Adventurethon can necessarily outfight a bear, simply by fixing it with a thousand-yard stare…but it has a better chance at that than a normal triathlon does. (The Month of the Bear is August 22 – September 21, by the way).

Instead of starting with a predictable old swim, for example, you kayak; 13km out into Horseshoe bay, where you complete a 4.2km circuit before racing 13km back again! When you’ve fallen out of your kayak and appealed to the Gods for strength, you then jump onto a bike…

Yet this isn’t a case of racing thin-tired road bikes along smooth tarmac roads; this is powering mountain bikes around Magnetic Island, along 29km of wetlands, dirt paths and mountain tracks – the Australian sun baking your helmeted head like an oversized, hairy egg!

Given the location, you could be forgiven for taking the strain off at this point and having a rest – perhaps even settling down for a picnic, or building a wooden hut so you never, ever have to leave…

BUT YOU WILL NOT, BECAUSE YOU ARE AN ADVENTURER!!

Instead, you complete the agonising cycle and, dropping your bike like the smouldering remains of your nemesis’ prized collection of tubular bells, you flee back into the island. This time a mere 16km through bitumen, sand and more rocky mountain trails, stands in your way…followed by another 2.4km of stumbling your way to Hawkings point lookout…where you pass out, knowing that you’ve done your duty as an Adventurer.

Of course, not everybody is capable of completing an event such of this magnitude and – luckily – they don’t have to! In the name of adventure, joy and inclusiveness (if that is a word), there are many versions of the event; from the full ULTRA-AVENTURETHON to the Dirty Duothon (no kayak) and the Taste of Adventurethon, and even a separate event just for those between the ages of 8 and 17! What’s more, each of the events can be undertaken alone, in a team or pretty much however you fancy!

I cannot think of a better ending point for Ed vs. Sport or a better starting point for the Chronicles of Adventure than this, most brilliant of triathlons. Exactly which event I will take part in…I’m not sure.

I’m not a good runner, have mountain biked exactly zero times in my life (I can ride a bike…so I assume I can ride a bike on a mountain) and my chances of learning to kayak on the Thames in Winter are slim to lethal.

Even so, I shall take part – FOR THE GUILD! (The Guild of Adventurers).

First Run of 2013!

Today, I went for a run. It way my first run since the Super Spartan race in September…which was my first run since the Spartan Sprint in July, which was also my first run since Tough Guy this time last year.

So, today saw my forth run in 12 months, bringing my total distance covered in a YEAR to approximately 40km. Impressive, no?

I ran slowly but, to my credit, the ground was covered in snow and the going was quite tough – slipping and sliding and hoping my knees wouldn’t collapse.

The first mile was pure terror and the taste of blood, but once my body worked out that it wasn’t under attack or fleeing for its life, it calmed down and I found my stride.

Unfortunately, my stride is quite short and unpredictable. This, combined with the snow and jumping in and out of the road to avoid cars, made for a longer run than expected on a freezing January morning.

Hopefully my legs will still work after boxing tonight.

Adventuring Skill: Climbing

Whether it be scaling a rock face to find a vantage point, descending into an abyss whilst hunting for treasure, or escaping up a tree or whilst being pursued by a wild boar, climbing is an invaluable skill for the freelance adventurer.

Luckily for me, there are plenty of climbing walls within an hour’s drive of my house. Also luckily for me, I know a wonderful man who knows how to climb and has agree to help teach me – Daz, of Caveman Press.

Unluckily for me, I am soon to turn 26, have limited experience of climbing and am not exactly built for the sport. Down at the climbing wall, you’ll struggle to find anybody who isn’t a middle aged veteran of 30 years, an obsessed young person who started at the age of 4, or a hollow-boned teenager who has yet to learn their physical limitations. And all of them are…wiry.

Yet the strength involved in this sport/skill is simply out of this world. Good climbers can, by PINCHING the tiniest protrusion (often with a single knuckle on just a few fingers), suspend themselves from the ground, whilst gracefully bringing their feet above their head and extending their other arm to snatch at another, equally invisible ‘hold’.

If I hadn’t seen people doing these things with my own eyes, I would be convinced that such acts are the stuff of myth and legend, or achievable by a select few. Yet feats like these seem relatively commonplace down in Reading, which leads me to conclude that soon I too will be gifted with monkey-like agility.

Until then, I shall bumble thusly:

Running the Super Spartan Race, Midlands 2012

Having noticed my blog was getting a bit text-heavy, I decided to wait a while for the photos from the Super Spartan, before writing an update.

However, is has now been nearly three weeks since we ran the course and not a single photo has surfaced. To be honest, this is entirely typical of the Spartan Race experience and I’ve decided to write this anyway, before I forget the event altogether.

A couple of months ago, Simon and I ran the Spartan Sprint, a 5km obstacle course. Although we weren’t expecting an epic challenge over 3 miles, we were still somewhat disappointed by what the Spartan Race organisers considered as “obstacles”.

So we decided to try again but, this time, we’d run the Super Spartan. Over twice as long as the Sprint and boasting 20+ obstacles, surely that would push us closer to our limits…

Madness? This is…SPARTAN RACE!!

Being Guildmaster of the Guild of Adventurers isn’t easy. I mean, if I’m not adventuring, who the hell is?! I am obliged, by the Gods of chaos, exploration and revelry, to pursue adventure as regularly as possible. This is a vow I have taken, by the light of the moon. So it must be – not matter what the situation, or how bad I feel.

So, it was with 7 hours’ sleep in 48 hours, a hangover 2 days in the making, and countless bruises from a bare knuckle night-sparring session that lasted from 02:30 – 05:30 a couple of nights earlier…that I made my way to the Spartan Race, in Reigate.

I was not alone, however! I was accompanied (and driven there) by none other than Master of Ceremonies, Simon ‘Bunn Slayer’ Lowe, known to the wise as the Grand Vizier of Murderbeers. Together, we navigated the bullshit that is English countryside driving and made our way to the scene of what promised to be utter madness…

Training for the Three Peaks

As Champion of Murderbeers, my responsibilities are vast ‎and never-ending. Quash a rebellion here, fend off the Ice Giants there; if it’s not killing one thing, it’s conquering another.

So, when the Emperor looked out from Murder Mount and realised that England, Scotland and Wales ALL have taller mountains than he does…he ordered me to go and claim them for Murderbeers. So that’s what I’m going to do.

Luckily, I won’t be going alone. The Grand Vizier made the mistake of sneering with glee when I was ordered out into the sodden wastelands of the United Kingdom, so the Emperor has sent him along with me! Together, we will trudge 26 miles of muddy path, ascend 10,000 feet of cold stone and drive 1000 miles of tedious motorway, to claim the Three Peaks in the name of Murderbeers!

However, even we – Murderbeers Fight Squad – aren’t foolish enough to attempt the Three Peaks without training. We all know mountains are essentially just large rocks, or collections of smaller stones. To overcome them, therefore, we n need to train ourselves to conquer rocks…

So we slapped on some rock n’ roll and practised lifting Atlas Stones. Perhaps we’ll lift the sky…

At the Olympic Stadium

As I write is, I am standing just outside the Olympic Stadium for the London 2012 Games…waiting to walk inside and run the 100m.

How exactly I have ended up here is unclear. I do, however, know it involved dozens of generous people, all of whom I can’t thank enough for everything they have donated to this cause. Whether it was the sports themselves, the blog or the Tough Guy race that inspired you to donate, it a goes to the same great cause.

Me. In the Olympic Stadium. IT’S HAPPENING!

Thanks to some incredibly generous donations, I have now raised enough money through the Gold Challenge that they are going to let me run do my 100m sprint event in the actual London 2012 Olympic Stadium, in front of 20,000 people!

Do I know how to sprint properly? No. Will I learn how to sprint properly for the invent? No. Do I intend to became the first man in history to run the 100m sprint, in an Olympic Stadium, whilst wearing a cape? Hell yeah. I’m going to make history, in the most pitiful possible way…

The only downside is that I’ve already booked to fly to Portugal the day before the event! So now I have to contact RyanAir and see how much money they’re going to charge me to delay my flight by a day. I expect it will be a lot of money.

Still, a minor set-back to what is going to be a totally EPIC day!

Olympic Stadium? 20,000 people? 100m? ME?!

So it turns out I’m still one of the Gold Challenge’s highest fund-raisers so far. That’s pretty cool! I haven’t quite reached the heights of the guy raising money to save the rhinos, but I’ml making good progress.

However, it also turns out that, if I raise £500 more (bringing my total to £1500), I will find myself in the London Olympic Stadium on the 1st of April, with 20,000 people in attendance. I will then race 100m against other Gold Challengees, for the amusement of the baying crowds.

It’s not quite the gladiatorial arena, but I think it’s the closest I’ll ever realistically come to being Spartacus.

If you would like to help me achieve my dream of performing a totally pointless act in front of thousands of people, all in the name of charity and adventure, please donate to my Gold Challenge here on my fund-raising page.

Tough Guy 2012: Year of the Lion Heart

I did it. I am now, officially, a Tough Guy.

This year was the Year of the Lion Heart…which is just about the only thing that got me to the end. It wasn’t fitness and it certainly wasn’t preparation – it was nothing but grim, visceral determination and a lifetime’s worth of being-an-idiot rolled into one.

You see, although there were a variety of weird and wonderful costumes through the event, the vast majority of people were clad in very sensible clothing, warm, water-resistant and lightweight. I, by contrast, had thermal underwear…beneath a t-shirt and a pair of swimming shorts.

Sounds funny, right? It wasn’t. Or rather, it was a little funny for the first hour or so. After that, it became…well…just look at the pictures.

Tough Guy Challenge One: Paperwork

I am very excited to announce I have received my various paperwork for Tough Guy next weekend.

Well, 50% excited and 50% worried… I mean, check out how much they sent me…

Each of those pages is double-sized and FULL of instructions. Start times, locations, safety instructions, kit lists – everything I could possibly need to know, along with SIX MAPS!!

I’m not sure what I’ve signed up to that requires its own instruction manual, but I suppose it’s all part of the chaos.

Tough Guy!!

For some reason, I’m still not sure why, I have signed up for Tough Guy Winter 2012.

When the organisers describe Tough Guy, they do so using one word: deprivation.

They then use 200,000 more words, to boggle the mind and utterly confuse anybody taking part as to what is actually involved!