Spartan Race

July 22nd, a date with all manner of asterisks and arrows pointing towards it as it had every possibility of being the highlight of the year so far, it didn't disappoint. In my latest tradition of finding new and insane assault course type challenges to do this promised to be the most challenging yet. I was gutted in the fact that the Warrior Dash had been cancelled in June, an American activity with one UK venue with the plug being pulled at the last minute. The 'Spartan Race' was to be set in the same venue as the Dash in Redhill, Surrey.

Rather unwisely I had put off any sort of training for the event until I realised any good intentions were completely out the window, I'd just show up on the day and see what happened. It turned out I'd be having a fair bit of a warm up though just to get to the venue. I'd made sure I'd checked all the train times the night before but was pretty peeved when I got to Tilehurst station to find my train wouldn't be showing up. A quick jog around the corner also saw the only bus for 1/2 hour go whizzing past which meant the strong chance of getting to the venue an hour later than planned. There was still a possibility of catching my Reading train so I jogged home to get the car. Thanks to the law of sod I was stuck behind a Sunday driver for most of the journey, slowly seeing my time to my train leaving dwindle. Where to park to get the best chance of making the train? After losing the caravan club member I whizzed into the short stay car park at the station for the second warm up jog of the day. Ticket to Redhill, which platform, WHICH PLATFORM?! Gatwick, train, same platform to get to Abz's, all the ticket gates were open so through and around the corner I sped. Saw the train, checked with the dude with the flag it was the right one and got on just in time, pulled away 10 seconds later. I sat, covered in sweat and laughing at saving myself an hour's wait for the next train.

Time on the train to cool off, 11 stops to get to Redhill. I was sat next to a blind woman with her son. How anyone can live with such a disability has always amazed me, but with a young son it must require a hell of a lot of trust from both parties. The little bugger put this trust on the back burner for a moment as he kept hiding his toys when his mum was trying to pack them away. Close to Redhill we came to Dorking Deepdene, everyone's eyes where fixed at the top of the hill over in the distance where the Olympic rings stood proudly at the top, a reminder of what we were all about to look forward to the following week.

Arrived at Redhill with plenty of time to get to the venue. Despite a slightly dodgy map and even dodgier map reading skills, A gorgeous spartan girl and a big queue of cars was the key i'd found the right place. I had over an hour until my 12:30 start time so made my way to the registration bit. Unlike the other races where you have race numbers to pin on, this one required you to write your number on your forehead, anywhere else that was visible and any additional smiley faces or body art you wanted to add. I remember looking around and seeing a lot of seriously buff men and women, most of which were head to toe in mud. Started to get slightly panicky, I'd winged all the other assault courses, this one looked as if it had the potential to break me. The one at Battersea had the odd 6 pack show off in attendance but was mainly Joe Public. This one really looked as if the Spartans were back, and even they were looking shell shocked after their experience.

After a second visit to the joy that is the porta loo it was almost time to start. Despite my Gandhi-esque figure I'd decided to strip off myself. Word was you want to wear as little as possible. I wandered over to the finish to see one of the obstacles, it looked like an ice bath with barbed wire over it, on closer inspection the wire didn't look as vicious so didn't seem to worried. That changed after hearing a fair bit of cursing from those going through it. Yep, the wire had a rather nasty electric current going through it, touch it and chances are you'd be swearing like a sailor. One of the girls going for it needed all the support of her mates to have a second crack at it after being shocked in the head. I began to see why we'd needed to sign a death waiver at the start!

Once the 12:00 wave had started it was my group's turn. Knowing I was no where near fit enough for the race I wanted to be near the front so I wasn't left behind. After a chin wag with those around we were greeted by 2 army instructors (Probably the sadists who designed the course) and a guy dressed as a Spartan holding a megaphone. The army guys warmed us up and the Dude in the skirt with the shield fired us up. The call was "AROO" for all the Spartans among us who would be expected to give everything out on the course. All theatre of course but this would feel more genuine the further through the course we got. The Spartan's sword fell and off we went. I'd overheard the first 1 1/2 miles were the hardest jogging part of the course, they weren't kidding. Uphill and downhill all the way, not a snip of flat even ground. Looking around, the consensus seemed to be the same. if we're finding THIS hard then what can we expect later on?

After the many ups and downs the jogging became much less of an issue, the obstacles were starting to come thick and fast. The final up and down made way for the jog through the woods and the first of many trails. A quick abseil down the muddy slope and a quick jaunt led, for me at least, the trickiest and most hated obstacle. A crawl under barbed wire and over mud. A few comments from behind about getting snagged and catching Tetanus made dam sure I wasn't going to get cut by the wire. After the energy sapping crawl over solid ground it got down and nasty with big pools of mud. I'd had to jump ankle deep in the stuff before in Henley during the night run but this time I was up to my shoulders in the bloody stuff. After crawling out of one of the pits it was straight into another, deeper one. I wish I'd pushed the smug looking official into the stuff after he gave me a knowing look as to what was still to come!

I can't remember the order of all the obstacles as they seemed to come quick and fast, here's what we all faced though: -

Climbing ropes, pulling a weight up one, rolling a stick with a rope and weight attached and lowering it again. Climbing an A frame, climbing various walls, carrying sand bags, carrying tyres, balance beams, throwing a spear, under a cargo net, crawling through a narrow muddy tunnel, more ropes and balance beams, jumping over fire and dodging Spartan gladiators.

Despite hating the mud obstacle under the barbed wire it actually galvernised me for the rest of the race. Before that point I still felt seriously unfit and weedy but after that I felt so used and abused I remembered how fired up it got me once i'd done it. In a way I was so pi$$ed off by the experience I was determined to let nothing beat me in my quest to finish, not even a pulled muscle in both thighs. On the largest of the wall climbs I felt pretty confident with my height and weight advantage but was soon brought down to earth. I put my foot on the side about to launch myself up and felt my leg go. The gut at the wall brought a medic over, I managed to get up on the 3rd attempt and it felt OK after a while. He had a quick fidget with my apparently knotted muscles (who knew?) and off I went, over the wall and onto the tyre lift. Eventually I came around a corner and saw on obstacle which looked familiar as I'd seen it before the race, I'd almost finished! This meant I was close to the dreaded electrified ice pit. After skipping through some tyres I came up to the edge of the pit and quickly planned a route through. Some guys behind were bundling through like imbeciles and getting the odd shock or three, I was determined I'd be getting through jolt free. Being skinny was coming to my aid again as I stayed low and snuck under. At the end I pulled myself through, quite happy as the ice had managed to clean off a lot of the mud still clinging to me. That soon changed with the very next obstacle, the crawl through the tunnel. A long and low slog which I know where the cause of my delightful war wounds on my body at the finish. After reaching the end it was onto the Gladiators, nice enough blokes dressed as Spartans giving everyone a token whack with whatever those pole things are called. One final obstacle which I took great pleasure in nailing despite a little reminder from my final muscles. The sloped bit with the rope had troubled many people but I was fired up and nothing was going to stop me whizzing over. Around the corner to another gorgeous looking Spartan girl armed with finishers medals.



I felt amazing, not quite as pumped as Battersea and no where near as knackered as Llanwrtyd Wells but seriously fired up at completing something so delightfully mental. The Spartan Race, despite being half the distance of the Survival of the Fittest and the Night Run, was way more extreme than the pair off them. In those two the obstacles came more of a break from the jogging which I always found hard but this time they proved a real challenge, especially if any mistakes were made. If you failed in any activity you had the pleasure of either 30 press ups or, even worse, 30 standing burpees. For the unknowing a standing burpee is going into a push up position, doing one then standing up again, I ended up doing 90 of these works of Satan. I think 3/4 of the course had to do at least 30 as I'd like to see anyone conquering 3 narrow balance beams going uphill covered in slippery mud. My other 60 came from a failed rope climb and an ability to throw a spear. The perils of pacifism I guess.


At the end of the race, everyone who was everyone ended up in the lake. There was a guy armed with a hose but it was much more fun going for a swim in the lake to wash off all the mud. After the final challenge of everyone getting out of the lake without getting caked in mud again it was time to go home. I'd come away  feeling ever so slightly broken with a couple of great looking bruises on my chest, another great looking medal and best of all more fantastic memories to come away with. The Spartan Race had well and truly done it's job, another page of the PB turned, bring on the next chapter.


Rossifer x 

Llama Trekking & Comic Con

A fantastic weekend, the start of what I hope will be one of the best summers so far. Despite a drip feed of purple goodness so far this year, including the delightful Notorious Night Run, it was to be this weekend which really started the ball rolling.
Proof that good things often come along like buses, I'd had 4 invitations this weekend and would have to miss a lot of goodness as well as experiencing a more than healthy dose of it. A hot day, late exam finish and drinkies for Woodstock, meant no basketball this week, a visit to Abi meant the drinkies didn't last as long as they could as the prospect of camping and trekking with llamas meant only the one night in Croydon.
Drinks at Prospect's local, the Mansion House, were in honour of 'Woodstock', our very own lovable hippie and free spirit who left us on Friday for bigger and better things. The sun brought out the usual beautiful people from the shadows, none more so than the one carved from marble and jet whose eyes are simply out of this world. After leaving the Prospect faithful it was time to dart off home to grab the beast before rushing to get the train to East Croydon. I forgot how awkward it was to carry, wearing it again brought back all the memories of trying to find the bridge first time around, this time I was armed with a wii and two guitar's as my camping gear would be joining me tomorrow.

After whooping Abz and the little dude at Guitar Hero it was off to Comic con the next day. As usual with most things purple I had no idea what I was letting myself in  for until I got off the train with the others and was greeted by several anime looking girls and a guy holding a huge plastic sword. Right then I knew I was in nerd heaven. The closer the three of us got to the Excel centre, the more outlandish costumes we saw. At one point i'd seen 7 Link's, 3 Rikku's, a Paine, 2 Jack Sparrows and several characters I had to ask Sean about. I'm not bad on spotting Square characters but anything Marvel or remotely comicesque and more vague than Superman and Wolverine is beyond me, nowhere near nerdy enough. Best outfit for me had to go as the girl dressed as Paine from FFX-II, i'd have got her picture if my camera didn't take half an hour to switch on.

I thought the whole place would have various zones for each thing e.g. Marvel, Capcom, DC... but basically it's just one big market. It's full of stores ranging from people drawing Anime and Manga pictures, figurines, steam punk, basically anything kids and the WoW loving fraternity would love to get their hands on. Time came and went and I had to be on my way. After goodbyes with my beloved hosts it was onto Guildford to meet up with the old one and then down the road into Hambledon.





The Merry Harriers, home to quite simply the friendliest bar staff you'll ever meet, some cracking local food,  live music, camping, Asterix books, live coverage of our boys beating the Norwegians at footie, a cat called Steve and of course Llamas. Just driving up to the place I knew the weekend would be ending as well as it had started. Any place that has it's own mog that happily sits at your feet while you're eating, random south american large mammals parked out back and 4 story edition of Asterix has earned my love and respect. Sat in the TV room with proper football loving blokes with pints of beer I was now the comic con nerd. Not hard to look out of place in a country pub reading Asterix, wearing a peace symbol and Steam Punk goggles. The match was followed by the live music and a zoology lesson from one of the locals. In the gents there was the biggest flying thing i'd ever seen. Apparently it was a 'May Bug' and legend has it if it gets caught in your hair it is an absolute bastard to get out. This thing was 3 times the size of any queen bee i'd ever seen so after awkwardly and hastily having a pee, I was off!

Camping with the old one meant all the odd cons. Brekkie on the bench and a brew on the gas stove. Despite arriving the evening before we still hadn't seen the llamas yet and didn't know quite what we'd be doing. Late morning we went around back and caught our first glimpse. It seemed a bit of a Mexican stand-ff with both parties not quite sure what to do next when faced with each other. I tried rubbing the noses of one of them which didn't go down too well, I always think if in doubt, use cat logic for animals as cat's like any area around their head rubbed. Word to the wise, if you're ever near one, avoid the cat logic. Remembered thinking I hope the llama that damn near spat at me wasn't my one...
After the intros we went into the field and were paired up with our llamas. The 9 starts of the show were Louie, Napoleon, Sariah, Running Cloud, Goji, Fidel, Mungo, Omar and our tall spotty beast, Pandhu. Everyone started off a bit weary, especially a quirky looking goth girl with blue hair and her mate. The first hour or so you felt as if you were being dragged along by your new furry friend. Apparently they eat for 17 hours a day and stopped every few seconds or so for a munch of anything green before moving on.

You soon learn that these are some seriously strong beasts you're working with and as well as a bit of coaxing it's brute strength that's needed to get them shifting where you want to go. A few of them were saddled up with lunch for the day and a thing full of water. A pretty hot day but nothing they couldn't handle being an animal of the Andes, hope I get to see some next year in Peru.

Usually with these posts there's a 'the whole thing was great despite this or that happening', no such comments here. The whole thing was great, fullstop. If you ever see an advert for llama trekking then give it a go you'll love it. You're only likely to get gobbed on if you act like a dick or are in the wrong place at the wrong time when one of them is gobbing it's dinner at it's mate.

Good luck to Woodstock at JMA and big thanks to all the stars of this weekend, especially Abz and Sean, the old one for buying me the trek as a pressie, Julie for doing the trek and of course my beautiful boy Pandhu. Aint he gorg!

Rossifer x

Jog on

Just a quickie, a repeat entry for the Book with the only difference this time being my reason for running it. I had no Marathon to train for, sponsorship to collect or bonus gained from trying a new thing, this was all about crossing the line with the old one. 2 years ago I'd hoped to have done so anyway but had wanted to show an honest account of what time I could achieve. Despite being the fittest I've ever been this year it was all about crossing the line with Dad and helping him beat his old time. Every time we passed a noisy cheering crowd, someone we knew or a band playing I made him jog.

We were both kitted up looking like we knew what we were doing with tech tops, specialist socks and running shoes. Along the way we tallied up everyone of the supporters we knew along the way, I eventually won that 11-8 with the Prospect crew doing me proud. Despite the whinging in how much jogging I was asking him to do I managed to get Dad to beat his old time with 2 hours 44 on the clock, 5 minutes faster than 2 years ago. I also maanged this without anyone swearing at me for walking faster than they were jogging, like before! A big thanks to everyone who clapped us on route and the bands and people with stereo's on, only another jogger can tell you how much it helps. A great day but proof that we'll both be needing to put the hours in if we're going to conquer the 3 peaks in August and, if we're lucky, the big one in London next year. Judging by the state of many of the runners we saw though, and stories of those close to us who have trained and fallen, we'll have to find something that's not going to leave us both crippled whilst doing it. Only 8 hours after the race and I'm already counting the days til the next one. A quiet April in preparation for an epic May. Bring it :)

Rossifer x

Notorious Night Run

A week on from Thorpe Park came a new challenge, one I'd been salivating over since I'd booked it due to just how ridiculous the whole thing sounded. A 10km run, at night, wearing a head torch, over a cross country horse racing course with bonus points awarded for dressing as a jockey or a horse. £40 has never left my account so easily!

The 'HorsePlay' Notorious Night Run was the final of 4 equally baffling events spread out over the UK from the 'Mighty Deerstalker' in Peeblesshire over the Scottish Border down to Hambleden Estate in Henley where I was. Although just down the road, Henley feels a world away from Reading. All the blokes were tweed, all the woman seem to have pony tails and are called Harriet and the only other language spoken would be latin.

Rat Race, the company behind the event, are quickly becoming my best friends in giving me plenty of Purple ideas including one this August which i'm getting very excited about... The Horseplay event was split in two, a 5km jaunt for those who wanted a mini challenge and the full 10km for those after a double challenge. Not only would the double distance be an issue, the race is purposely started just before sun down so poor visibility was guaranteed.

At the start the announcer and wonderfully enthusiastic organiser of the event eventually got us lined up at the start just after 6:00pm. A final check that the timing chip was tied on your shoes, head torches were all switched on and that you weren't standing in front of anyone potentially quicker than you were at the start. Off we went, the athletes darted off ahead to avoid the log jam at the first obstacle, a whacking great log designed for a thoroughbred to jump over, instead bearing the brunt of 500 fun runners. This was quickly followed by the first water jump and then into the woods. Over another jump, across the field again and over more jumps, the terrain started getting trickier and steeper and everything started getting darker, the head torches were about to become essential.

The rest of the course was no doubt designed by a sadist. Forgetting the 10km distance, the course planner is, i'm sure, a hill loving midget as most of the run from then on in was up, down or traversing a whacking great hill which could rival Coopers Hill in Leicestershire for it's steepness. The woods offered many obstacles including low branches, hidden roots and the odd log thrown in for good measure, everyone present must have had a close shave or near injury on route. The course managed to bring the best out of all present as everyone seemed to be watching each others back. Whoever was running point could warn the others of what was coming and the light from whoever was behind you helped to avoid all the potential ankle breakers.

Close to the end the obstacles came thick and fast. The mud section won't go down as most people's favourites, nor the huge log jumps which even I had a problem getting over. After getting thoroughly soaked ducking under an obstacle in a pond we were on the final stretch for home. We could hear the MC, see the lights and here the crowds which really spurred you on. After a final water jump there was a cargo net to crawl under (not easy in the dark with a head torch on) and a final big jump onto a raised platform before a sprint finish over the line. Coming round the final bend I actually felt slightly disappointed it was coming to an end. Far from feeling knackered and fed up and counting the steps to the finish I couldn't help feeling I was starting to catch the bug for this sort of thing. A few years ago jogging was my idea of hell. It still is in a way, but throw in some mud, a few people dressed in tweed and the idea of doing it all at night, and you'll have trouble stopping me wanting to do it. In the finishing tent I got my bottle of water, big Mars bar and another beautiful looking medal. At this rate my trophy cabinet is going to be bigger than the old man's ;)

The evening was far from over. Once the last people had staggered over the line it was time for the prize giving and the entertainment. I was slightly taken aback by a woman who told me she wasn't over the moon about her performance who a few minutes later ended up winning the award for 3rd fastest female (or filly) on the day. The overall winner was a chappie with a very Henley-esque sounding name who nailed the course in 47 minutes, making my 1 hour 31 minutes look pedestrian. Out of 500 runners I was 242nd, a more competitive mind like the woman I spoke to in 3rd place would have seen me higher up the ranks but, as always, mine is a mind of Purple whose unadulterated joy came from simply being there and feeling the way I always do when experiencing something new.

The prize giving was followed by the excellent live band, Black Dog, a spandex, mascara and tweed wearing group who did an excellent couple of sets ranging from Hendrix to Phil Collins to the theme tune from Dirty Dancing. Any thoughts of sleep after that went out the window. I'd already decided to camp overnight before hand and had already pitched the tent before the race. Couldn't help finding it funny being the tallest bloke there yet having the smallest tent, even without a blow-up mattress there's no room to swing a locust once I'm in it, whoever called it a '2 person tent' must have meant 2 jockeys. The next 5 hours were spent dressed in 4 layers in plus the sleeping bag trying to get warm and get any kind of sleep with some drunken X Factor hopefuls on my left and some cockney blokes to the right of me who spent the whole evening telling most people exactly what they thought of them, including (weirdly enough) the 'boring old c*** asleep next to us'. Asleep? Chance would be a fine thing. Any less of the old you cheeky git! It was the one time I welcomed the clocks going forward. This had obviously not been the highlight of the day but in the end just added to the whole thing. Another fantastically memorable entry in the book, roll on the next one :)

Rossifer x

High Rollers

The slow start to this year well and truly ended today. This entry to the book brought with it many raised eyebrows - 'Ride on a roller-coaster'. In the years before the Purple Book i'd not only missed out on the things people wouldn't consider doing themselves, I'd also missed the ones everyone had already tried many times before. Upon hearing this my mate Kristof decided the way to break this duck was to visit the best place in Britain to get this done - Thorpe Park.

Travelling with a seasoned veteran, as always with all things Purple, I was more than looking forward to what was coming up. As with a couple of things in the book I didn't realise what I was getting myself into until I was right in the middle of it. If I'd reached terminal velocity on a skydive, what difference would a roller-coaster make?

Despite us visiting in the first week back into 2012 the crowds were no where near as big as I thought. After the up close and personal search for anything dodgy it was onto the first ride. "We'll go on something nice and easy to start off with" said Kris, slightly disappointed as i'd promised my first ride to be the most extreme but happy to go along. 'Nice and Easy' he said. 10 seconds into the 'Vortex' ride and I'm freaking out. If this is the hors d'oevres then what is the main course going to be like? Next stop Samurai, a personal favourite of Miss B at Prospect. Fearing the worst I had this weird feeling halfway through which felt strongly like 'enjoyment'! The last ride had messed me up and this ride was doign the same, but in a good way. Although slightly wobbly it was no time to hang around, time to get to the ride I wanted to do most of all - Stealth. This was the ride most people told me was the scariest they'd ever been on and ended up being the first actual roller-coaster i'd been on as the others were spinning things so didn't count. Kris went through the details; 0 - 80mph in less than 2 seconds. He didn't need to mention the huge curve up in the air bit, i'd already cursed a bit at the sight of it earlier...

You can't really prepare yourself for a ride like Stealth. To say it goes quick is like saying the guy off of Man vs Food has a decent appetite. I can honestly say I hated every second! The SPEED of that thing is off the chain, the bit that goes up and then quickly down felt like it had dislodged several vital organs and I couldn't stop shaking for 15 mins after. I'd went to X No Way Out after that (pretty lame in my opinion) and was still shaking from Stealth.

Everything felt better after that, no idea if I was just getting used to everything but I was genuinely loving every minute. The queue jumper tickets and luck with the queues brought along Saw, Nemesis Inferno and Colossus. Saw is themed on the Saw film series, the power of suggestion was a big plus as you couldn't help but remember shocking parts of the films while you were queuing. The famous Jigsaw puppet at the start warning you of what was to come and THAT bit when you go straight up before shooting down under the saw blades. Nemesis Inferno is my joint favourite, for some reason it was the one ride I loved every second off, my kind of scary whatever that means. Colossus had the 10 twists on it and seemed to get the biggest reaction from me at the end, apparently I swore more on that ride than any of the others...

A break for lunch before a first for me and Kris, the new Swarm ride. Themed on a national disaster, the ride was brand new and the first winged ride in Britain. This was the first time I could sense Kristof was feeling the same way I'd been all day, genuine excitement and anticipation at trying something new. From the outside Swarm looked brilliant. Live band playing, crashed aeroplane with the added bonus of actual planes flying over from Gatwick and a creepy guy dressed as a priest covered in scars. This was the only ride which had a Maximum height limit as well as a minimum. I was just over the height, half praying someone would stop me going and the other half secretly hoping i'd be allowed on. Past the first height guide OK, this would be the longest queue all day but still nowhere near as bad as I was dreading. The time was broken up by the odd group of kids bewildered by how tall I was and the sounds of those already on the ride. Eventually at the start of the queue I knew I'd be allowed to ride it. Kris at this point was at full tilt raring to go, he'd taken every other ride in his stride but had no idea what this ride had in store. Despite having my eyes closed for most of it, the bits I saw through my fingers were delightfully brutal. Several near misses, inverted angles at speed and my sort of scary (again whatever that means).

The day could only be rounded off by a good soaking. My wingman was dreading the Tidal Wave more than any other ride as it involved getting properly wet. No spinning around or gimmicks on this one, just a quick plunge into a huge pool of water, nothing was spared. The two drowned rats eventually made it back to the lockers and thankfully something new to wear. I'd crossed another biggie off the Purple Book, Ride a roller-coaster. Like so many entries there were moments of extreme pleasure mixed in with genuine dread at being there. As usual though it had been another epic Purple day out which I wouldn't swap for anything.

Rossifer x

Fav in order: -

1. Nemesis Inferno

2. Swarm

3. Saw

4. Colossus

5. Tidal Wave

6. Samurai

7. Stealth

8. Vortex

9. X No Way Out

Santa Dash & Christmas Bash

Today saw the final entry to this purple year with a quick 2 lap jaunt around Prospect Park, something I'd have been truly dreading a couple of years back but managed this time with a lot less exhaustion thanks to a certain level of fitness i'm somehow managing to attain. The run was on behalf of the British Heart Foundation and the turnout reminded me of the Reading Rush which didn't happen, not great. As the race was to be a 'Santa Dash' I was expecting a sea of red and white at the start but was greeted by no more than 150 I reckon. The suit provided would have fitted Hulk Hogan, laying to rest any fears I had of another Austin Powers incident with a suit designed for a 12 year old.

After a couple of awkward minutes doing warm-ups (You do feel quite stupid doing star jumps dressed as Saint Nick) We lined up ready to start. The starter and the Lady Mayoress were both drowned out by the weather which was beginning to close in nicely. Off we went. The elite runners or 'show offs' as we liked to call them raced off ahead while the rest of us mixed jogging with costume adjustment. Every other stride seemed to involve tucking the jacket in, pulling up the trousers or picking the fake beard's cotton wool out of your mouth but for only £10 all in, no one was too bothered. It's hard to say where I came overall but I wasn't too bothered, a few of the runners went hardcore and went on the third lap but 2 laps was enough for me and most people. At the finish I was greeted by two chuffed looking parents, a bottle of water and an unexpected finishers medal. Unexpected but along with all the others received so far, greatly treasured.

A quick message on my Christmas works party at the Calcot Hotel. This was the first year I'd helped organise one and I have to say it was a very mixed experience. I never dreamt it would be so time confusing convincing a group of people to got out at Christmas to enjoy themselves. Complaints about cost, location, timing and seating started to take their toll near the end. I'm surprised certain teachers dared challenge their students on forgetting homework or equipment when it took them 4 attempts to bring their deposit money in. In the end though, none of it mattered. Not the constant changes in the seating plan, not the method of using the drinks vouchers not even the crowded reception area we all had to stand in before the dinner. The evening had been a success, in spades. As co-organiser, my responsibility hadn't ended at the booking stage. I felt responsible for everyone's happiness in the party, making damn sure everyone was having a good time. The picture below is one of my favourites of the year. The 3 people who had made the party happen, a look of true contentment and satisfaction at a job well done.

Rossifer x

The countdown begins

No turning back now, the registration payment has been made and the date is set. Saturday 27th April 2013, a date where if all is well, I'll be embarking on what will hopefully rank as the greatest experience of my life. Between now and then it'll be 515 days of saving, training, sponsorships and a shed load of vaccinations. The two added bonuses will be if I can raise a warehouse load of cash in sponsorship for MNDA and if my cousin Sharon can join me for what will be, until I meet the love of my life and become a father, life affirming perfection. The 4 pictures to the left are a taster of what is to come. When the journey is complete, the details of which will undoubtedly make Tolstoy's 'War and Peace' look like a mere pamphlet, with enough photo highlights to fill Narnia.

Rossifer x