The Grim Challenge? That sounds like a pleasant. way to spend a Sunday morning..

3 days on and my body has mostly recovered from the pain. Most of my toes have thawed too so that's good news.

Last Sunday marked my first taste of ridiculous events in ridiculous conditions, and i'm sure it won't be my last. On the face of it, the Grim Challenge seemed aptly named. An 8-mile off-road run on an early December morning. The course description on the offical website is as follows:

"This land is used to test Army vehicles so expect it to be interesting! You will reach a long hill shortly after the start before descending again eventually reaching a water filled ravine. You will run on over puddle-strewn paths before having to crawl under camouflage netting. You'll eventually reach some man-made mounds before arriving at and running through some rather large puddles. Expect to get very wet! You'll run on to the fast vehicle driving circuit where it is rocky underfoot. This brings you to some more large areas of water and the finish area."

When Glen sent me the details I agreed without hesitation. Due to a hectic holiday calendar I had missed the 10Km runs and half marathons the other guys have completed so far so I was up for the challenge. My training has ben progressing well and i have regularly been running 25 - 30Km a week so I felt well prepared leading up the the event.

Sunday morning started early with a big bowl of cereal and a few nerves. We left home at 8am and after scraping the ice of the windscreen, headed down towards Aldershot. As we pulled up in the race carpark I got quite excited. I had been looking forward to the race for a while and the nerves I had been feeling had now disapperared. They came back pretty quickly when I stepped out into the freezing air.

We made our way over towards the start area and grabbed a coffee while we waited for the rest of the guys to show up. Eventually the whole crew arrived - there were 11 of us racing which was a great turn-out and Kirt, Zoobs and Indre were there in support and photography roles. As we waited for the start time, which had been pushed back half an hour due to a road closure, we checked out the course. It was fairly grim. A rough dirt track with large expanses of water covered in a thick layer of ice. Apparently earlier in the morning a tank had been driven through some of the larger 'puddles' to break up the worst of the ice. Suddenly the thought of running through that wasn't quite so appealing.

We lined up for the start and at 11am got the signal and set off. My plan was to try and keep pace with Glen for as long as I could. He is a fair bit fitter than me, having already competed a half marathon in October, but I wanted to stay with him for as long as I could. We made decent pace early on, clocking up 8 minute miles for the first few. For the first couple of miles I did all I could to to avoid the water, even following a bunch of runners on a detour through the bush. I knew I would get wet and cold eventually, but wanted to delay that as long as possible.

After a couple of miles, my agressive hydration strategy backfired and I needed to pee. As I approached the first cargo net, I saw Glen was taking advantage of a bit of a backlog of people to carry out a tactical so I did the same. Unfortunately Glen had a better pit-stop than me and by the time I was back on the course he was past the net and out of sight. I didn't see him again till the end of the race.


After negotiating the first cargo net we started to hit more water. By this stage I was already starting to get wet, so I no longer tried to 'circumvrent' the puddles and charged through the middle. It was cold. I would say cold, to quite cold. And it hurt. Running through the freezing water was physically painful, and for about a minute after each water section my legs were both numb and stinging at the same time.

About 4 miles in I started to struggle a bit. I'm generally not very good at running in the morning and prefer to run once I have a few meals under the belt. My bowl of cereal 4 hours earlier had worn off and I was regretting not eating more. I was lacking energy and found myself fighting the urge to stop and have a breather.

As I approched the 5 mile mark I set myself the target of a 1.10 finishing time. I reached the 6 mile mark in just over 50 minutes so just had to run the last two miles in under 20 minutes and I was there. By this stage I was determined to crack on and make that time. I could feel the end of the race approaching and was counting down the distance in my head. I can run the 4.5 Km home from work in just over 20 minutes so was picturing the run home in my head so I knew how far I had left to go. I found this a really good technique to keep my motivation and pace up.

After a few more minutes and several more puddles I approached what I whought must be almost the 7 mile mark when a stweward who was yelling encouragement said there was 1.5 miles to go. I had already been running 9 minutes for that mile so thought she must be wrong. I swear it was a very generous mile but after 14 minutes, I made the 7 mile mark. My goal of 1.10 was now out of reach but the thought of the end spurred me on. The track led up a small hill and the finish line came in to view.

Unfortunately the finish line was to my left and the track looped round and then through another huge frozen expanse of water before I would reach it. I battled through the last 500m, struggling to breath and with aching legs. I hit the last water section at pace and dragged my legs through the thight deep water, overtaking people as I surged to the finish. I could hear Indre and the guys cheering me on, but was to tired to acknowledge them. I just wanted to get the end.


I made it across the line in 1.11.47, which was slower than I had wanted, but was still a good result. Most of the other guys were in already, the guns finishing in around 1.06, Glen about 1min 30 ahead of me.

After the rest of the guys came in we got changed and headed to find some food. We stopped at the Swan in Farnborough for a pint and a large plate of protein as Kiwi put it. I opted for the pig-based protein and was greatly satisfied...

A few days on, most of the pain has now gone, but my legs are still a little tender. I have taken the week off running and have been swimming instead which is a nice change. The runners will be back on this weekend though and I'm already looking forward to next years Grim...

Training and Tequila Don't Mix

So last weekend Glen, Brooksie and I headed up to the Cotswolds to get some training in on the hills. We planned to get 5-6 hours walking in on both Saturday and Sunday. My training so far has been mostly running and Trim Trail sessions, so this was a good opportunity to get a few solid hours hill walking under my belt.

The preparations for the trip had been going on for some time, and our original plan was to walk from Dowdeswell, near Cheltenham, to Winchcombe where we would spend the night before walking to Chipping Campden and catching the train back to London. However, thanks to the extreme awesomeness of Hillsy and The General, we had the offer of crashing at their place in Cheltenham, which was gladly accepted. Brooksie had a map that covered most of the path we were following and Glen made last minute trip to Cotswolds (the outdoor store, not the place Brooksie) to pick up a map that covered the missing section so we were all set to go.

Friday evening came round and Glen, Brooksie and I met at Paddington Station and experienced the joy of shelling out £44 for a one way train ticket to Cheltenham. We grabbed seats on the train and sat back for the 2.5 hour trip. Hillsy was there to meet us on arrival at Cheltenham Spa and we headed back to his to drop of the car before heading off to a brilliant noodle bar. The food was great and watching The General get visually molested by the hideous waitress was even better. After a couple of beers we headed home to prepare for an early start the next day.

We were out the door at 8am and rearing to go after some bacon and eggs whipped up by Hillsy. We found our entry point onto the Cotswolds Way and headed out into the freezing morning. After about 10 minutes we lost the path and decided it was time to consult the map. That went a little something like this:

Brooksie: "It's in the back of my bag, can you grab it out?"
Glen: "Um, is it?"
Brooksie: " Yeah I put it in there before we left - its just in the main bit?"
Glen: "Um, are you sure?"
Brooksie "*****"

So after 10 minutes of our walk we found ourselves lost and without a map.

Fortunately the previous day I had downloaded a new mapping application for my phone. The ViewRanger application uses the internal GPS on my N95 8Gb to plot your position. The application allows you to purchase and download Ordinance Survey maps - the same maps that Brooksie had left in the back of Hillsy's car. The maps come in tiles so you can just download the tiles that you are intersted in, which is good, cos they aren't particularly cheap. When I bought the app I got credit to download a few map tiles and so I had downloaded the tiles that corresponded to the route we were taking.

Unfortunately I had used up my credit downloading the tiles for the walk, but had missed one tile. A fairly crucial tile. The tile that covered the area in which we were lost, without a map.

Awesome.

I did have the tile directly north of the area in which we were lost and I could see the track heading north on that tile. So I knew we had to go North for about 2Km. And Brooksie had managed to put the compass in her bag which was quite an achievement. So we set off once again, with no idea where the path was, but knowing that we had to head North. After about 90 minutes, which included 45 minutes stuck in a paddock from which there seemed there was no escape, we stumbled back across the Cotswolds Way. Within a few minutes we emerged onto the section of the path that was covered by my map and we were laughing.

The morning was icy cold and as we headed up towards Cleeve Common the trees were covered in frost and it was so foggy that visibility was limited to about 10 meters at times.




The next few hours proceeded without too much drama, although a the path was quite hard to follow in places, especially given that it was so foggy We arrived at our designated meeting point at 1.40, after 5 hours and about 25Km and had time for a few stretches before Hillsy rolled up to meet us and take us back to Cheltenham.

After a very quick change out of dirty gear it was down to the pub to watch the English get schooled by the All Blacks which was a satisfying end to a long days walk.

When the first tray of Tequilas came out at 4.45pm I knew that the plan of walking another 6 hours the next day was looking shaky. 11 hours, several Jager Bombs, a couple of pubs, a club and £100 later we made it to bed. Glen and I dragged ourselves up and were set to go by about 9.30, the rest of the house emegrged about 11 looking decidedly rough. The General knocked up some sausage sarnies which we devoured and at about 12 Hillsy finially rustled up the energy to drive us up to Winchcombe for the second days walking. Brooksie decided that she had had enough and that another days walking wasn't quite what she needed.

Glen and I hit the path at about 12.30 and decided to try and get 3 hours in before catching the train back to London. The second day was reasonably uneventful, the hangovers slightly dampening our enthusiasm. We pushed through it though and got another 15 Km out of the way. We followed the Cotswolds Way for about 90 minutes before looping back on a footpath that led to the Gloucester Way which we then followed back to Winchcombe.

The friendly bloke at the coffee shop in Winchcombe gave us a lift back to Cheltenham for £15 which was good of him. We were then met with the joy of shelling out another £44 for a train ticket to London. It turned out a return was £45 so we were pretty gutted we hadn't picked one up in London before we left...

We hadn't quite achieved the goal of walking 5-6 hours a day and had deviated from the original path we were to take, but I'm not too disappointed. Once of the reasons I wanted to do two days was to get used to putting the boots back on tired feet and backing up after a long day. We did that. With killer hangovers. So to me, thats a pretty good result.

I'm relatively fit now and can run 10Km in 50 minutes pretty comfortably, but I found parts of the walk quite tiring. Walking uphill is very different to running on the flat so I'm going to need to rack up lots more hours in the hills.

Big ups to Hillsy and General for the hospitality and to Brooksie for organising the map - oh......

Its all Relative...

So after our disappointment last weekend I decided I had to get back into the training. I've been sick for a couple of weeks and hadn't been able to get any runs in. I finished work and got changed and set off to run home. Nothing too taxing, just a gentle 4.5 km to get me back into it and stretch the legs out a bit.

I stepped outside breathed in the icy air and realised that winter is well on its way. About 10 minutes in it to the run started to rain. Then it started to rain hard. Then it started to hail.

It was funny jogging along watching people dive for cover from the hail. I must have looked a bit of a mentalist because I was actually laughing and smiling to myself as the hail bounced off my face. Sure it stung a bit. My fingers were slowly numbing, I was soaked through and cold, but this was nothing. This was a jog in the sunshine compared to what we faced on the Ben last weekend.

Had I not had that experience on the weekend, I'm sure I would have felt the cold more and felt the sting of the hail on my face, but its all relative. Inspired by Hillsy's tirade on the mountain I just laughed at the hail and said "F**k off and come back to me when your a real storm".

Always Trust The Weather Man

Southwesterly 50-70mph, gusts 80 to perhaps 100mph locally. Very difficult conditions even at low level, with any mobility widely difficult on higher areas. Significant wind chill.

Torrential rain. Snow, soon turning to prolonged heavy rain. Will finish late
afternoon as snow above 800m.

Well, that was the forecast heading in to Friday afternoon and it set me in to a bit of a panic. I decided that the raincoat I had wasn't going to cut it so I made my 3rd visit to Cotswalds in 10 days and dropped another £90 on a half-decent jacket. I headed home to do my final packing before heading to Heathrow pumped for the challenge that lay ahead.

A few of the lads had been waiting at the airport a while and I met up with them and headed to the plane. After a bit of a bumpy ride that had a couple of the boys saying thier Hail Marys we arrive in Glasgow. Hadyn, having caught an earlier flight was waiting with the video camera and took what turned out to be the only footage of the entire trip...

As we waited for the van to arrive we did last minute kit-checks and started to change into our base layers. I was pumped and really wanted to get stuck in to the challenge. After about 45 minutes, the van arrived and we all squeezed into the tight confines of the van. A space we would get to know very well over the next 24 hours...

The drive to Fort William, where we were to start our ascent of Ben Nevis, was due to take about 2.5 hours. However after about 90 minutes on the road we were stalled by a nasty accident. We sat for a further 90 minutes while the wreckage was cleared, watching 'Cool Runnings' and generally reflecting on an entirely bizarre Friday night.

We finally got back on the road and were hoping to stop at a servo to fill up on some food and water before we started the climb. Unfortunately, very little is open at 3am in Fort William. We only had a few litres of water between us, but headed for the local Fire Station where we were able to fill whatever bottles we had with us.

We pulled in to the Ben Nevis Visitor Center car park in a howling gale and steady rain. Tooves and Waters, who hadn't changed into their kit did so in the van while the rest of us readied ourselves to make a start.

At a bit after 4am stopwatches were started and The General lead off blazing the way with a headtorch brigther than a thousand suns. The going was immediately quite tough, especially for some of the lads who were in trainers. We eventually found the path up the Ben and started trudging up the stone steps.

There were frequest stops to adjust kit and remove layers as we made our way up the steady slope. The wind was gusting quite strongly now and we were being buffeted around as we tried to stay close to whatever shelter the sides of the hill offered.

After about an hour we left the stone steps and rounded a corner on to a saddle. We were immediatley hit with huge winds directly behind us and started powering along. At this stage, the rain had picked up and the wind was driving this directly into my back. My 'waterproof' trousers were now completely soaked through and water was pouring into my boots. The brutal conditions and darkness meant we missed the ridge that would lead us to the summt and we continued to walk with the wind behind us for some time.

Eventually G-Unit pulled the boys together for a serious chat. The conditions were getting worse. We had been walking for about 90 minutes and were still only halfway up the hill. The ridge that led to the summit was very exposed and the winds up higher were likely to be dangerous, if not deadly. We took a vote and a few of the boys were keen to go on. I didn't want to give up, but my opinion was that it was irresponsible for us to carry on as we would be putting our lives at risk, and potentially the lives of Moutain Rescue who would more than likely have to come and get us. G made a tough, but correct descision in the end and we turned around.

This is when it got hard.

The wind that had been at our backs was now directly in our face. Mike and I estimated it was 12o kph gusting upwards of 150kph and the weather reports confirmed this later in the day. The wind was driving the torrential rain horizontally, right in our faces. It was impossible to look where we were going. Any time i lifted my head to look any further than my feet the rain stabbed at my eyes and face like a thousand pins. After a few minutes battling this wind I was tired and shaken. As we rounded a bend the wind picked up even further and I was blown a metre backwards. To steady myself I grabbed the closest large object which happened to be Joe Williams. Joe and I battled together for a few minutes amrs linked for physical and moral support. I was still unable to see any further than my feet despite Hillsy barking on and on:

Its just wind. I can't hurt you. Look at it! Don't let it beat you. Look at it and tell it to F&ck off !

The only thing that was going through my head at this stage was the drainage ditches that crossed the path every 50m or so. I was petrified of not seing one and slipping in a breaking my leg. We clung together as a group and slowly made our way out of the worst of the weather.

Once out of the wind we were able to take a breather and recompose ourselves for the way down. We weren't out of danger yet and had to concentrate all the way down. People were getting tired and Tooves had a couple of good stacks, one of which left him pretty close to the edge of a sharp drop.

As we made our way down the steps, with the lights of Fort William coming in to view there was a sense of relief that we had all made it down. We hadn't made it to the top, but I don't think that would have been possible given the conditions.

More important to me than the challenge was the bonding of the team. We had faced some perilous conditions up there and had all stuck together, physically and mentally providing support for each other. If I ever get stuck in those sort of conditions again, I know who I would want beside me, grabbing my arm, yelling encouragement and leading the path through the rain.

Go Tenzing.

The Quest for Fitness

I have just returned from a 2 week trip to the states to see a mate. My mate Richie is a bit of crazy bastard. He does Ironman Triathlons. He loves Ironman so much that he quit his job and applied for a pro license from Triathlon New Zealand. on the 31st of August he had his first start as a pro in the Kentucky Ironman so I decided to head over and support him. For those of you who aren't aware, Ironman consists of a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile cycle and a 26.2 mile run. As I said, he is a crazy bastard. Having lived away from New Zealand for 6 years now, its been a while since I've seen Rich race. He has been racing for as long as I've known him (16 years) and it was pretty special to be there for his first pro race.

Now if the thought of a 2.4 mile swim leading into a 112 mile ride followed by a 26.2 mile run is frightenting, consider doing that in 33 degree heat. Thats what the 2500 people who lined up at the Ohio river that morning were facing. As I spent the day watching people of all shapes and sizes struggle with the ordeal I was really inspired. Apart from the pros who do several of these events every year, there were loads of people doing their first and likely only ironman. Its an amazing commitment and really got me thinking about my training for everest.

Speaking to Rich I was amazed that he was doing around 30 hours training a week. Ok so he doesn't have a full-time job and can manage that, but its an amazing commitment none the less. Kinda made me realise exactly how much I would need to put in to get really fit. I knew I had to do some work, but this made me realise that a couple of big runs a week isn't going to get me close to where I need to be.

Richie finished the race in a bit over 10 hours, an hour over his personal best, the heat having really taken it out of him. As Rich was heading in to the finish line, there were people still heading out on the start of their marathon, which must have been a pretty rough feeling for them. The spirit and fight in these people was amazing to watch, but there were two moments later in the night that really touched me.

The first moment was watching a 75 year old man cross the finish line in just over 17 hours. I could hardly believe it, the old fella still had the energy to dance a little jig as he crossed the line to the cheers fo the hundreds of people who were still watching and supporting at 11pm at night.

The moment that really made me think though occured about an hour later. Like any race with a large number of competitors, in Ironman, there is a cut-off time. If you don't cross the finish line within 18 hours your result doesn't count. We were standing watching over the finish line as the clock hit the 18 hour mark just as a man entered the finishing chute. He was only about 200m from the finish line but could see that the clock had passed the 18 hour mark. This guy had been busting his balls all day to get to the finish line, collect his medal and be able to say he was an Ironman. He missed out by a minute and instead of a medal ended up with a DNF. I can't begin to understand how devastating it must be to train for something for so long and then work so hard for 18 hours only to miss out by a minute. I'm determined not to let this happen to me.

I want to make it up the mountain and be able to play cricket.


Guess I better go for a run then...

A Long Walk to The Middle

This is the first entry in my blog, and represents the start of an amazing adventure. Next April, I will be taking part in an expedition to Nepal in an attempt to set a world record, and raise loads of money for two very worthwhile charities.

So what's this all about? The challenge is pretty straight foward - find two teams of like-minded individuals, fly to Nepal, walk halfway up the highest mountain in the world, and play a game of cricket at an altitude higher than any other official match of sport, in a harsh and oxygen-depleted environment.

This is going to be a real challenge and a test of commitment, perserverence and above all physical endurance. We will be playing a 20/20 match of cricket at Gorak Shep, 5164M above sea level. At this altitude the body absorbs less than 70% of the oxygen it does at sea-level, and the dangers of altitude sickness are all too real.

So why are we doing this? As well as the world record attempt and an amazing adventure, one of the major goals of the expedition is to raise £250,000 for two great charites, Comic Relief and the Himalayan Trust. This is where your support comes in! Over the next 9 months there will be loads of opportunities for everyone to be involved in helping make this expedition a success.

Over the coming months I will be keeping you all informed on our progress and challenges with the organisation, fundraising and training and look forward to sharing this adventure with you. For more information please visit www.atestabovetherest.com.

Chris