I can honestly say that Sunday morning I felt worse than I had collectively after two consecutive Stag Do's for Jono and my Cousin. Now obviously we have vowed in hindsight to ensure that next time, the maxim, "less is more" will be adopted. After all, smashing out 2 solid hours of back to basics circuit training and a 6 mile run on the Saturday would have done wonders for our training, until we deemed it a good idea and undo all the good work and do what boys do when they get together, when a BBQ and beer is involved.
The training was tough, I personally haven't experienced that level of training in over 10 years and we all said it, that no matter how many miles we'd all run, it never prepared us for that. So much so that I proceeded to empty the contents of my stomach after half an hour or so, although I think I must has developed an allergy to Powerade as what came out, was just liquid and it was vivid blue! The next hour and half was a mixture of pain and pleasure, pain followed by 20 seconds of pleasure of rest between each exercise and a minute if we were lucky between each group of circuits. Dan worked us hard, to the point of complete exhaustion, and fair play to him, after all, we're under no illusions, this challenge wasn't and isn't go to be easy. The circuits included various partner and equipment work outs and come the end we deserved our face plants into the freshly cut grass.
Rehydrated and energy stocks replenished we started out on a 6 mile run, and I guess for all of us at various stages throughout the run we all struggled a bit to come to terms with the punishment we had all endured. The running route was mapped out by Craig (who did an incredible job of organising the weekend, including the venue and all the extras that he did), and started out from Craigs Grans house in Sandon to Danbury Common, with a lap around the common before heading back to Sandon. So after three hours of solid torture we eventually slumped into a collective heap on the edge of the garden, stuffing our faces with Jaffa Cakes and Jelly babies. That's when it all went wrong..........
........the BBQ was fired up, the Peroni was drained, the Bombay Sapphire came out, and come 1930 we were in the Crown, having something to eat, watching the football, and then it began.......there were bombs going off everywhere, jagerbombs, skittlebombs, disaronno sours, slippery nipples and not to forget as we are doing this for one collective reason, as a tribute to my brother Lloydy, it wouldn't have been a tribute without Pernod and Black! 12am, became 1am, became 2am, more Bombay Sapphire was drunk, and by this stage we had all developed the munchies again, and quiche became apple pie (but to understand that, you would have had to have been there).
When we all eventually surfaced Sunday morning, there was a distinct sense of impending doom, we were supposed to be tackling an assault course, personally I couldn't have tackled a 4 year old for a bag of sweets. Banksy and I surfaced first and continually looked at one another, I think, for emotional support to confirm what we both knew was going to happen or not going to happen. The assault course wasn't going to happen, and I was definitely feeling that something was going to happen, that would result in me feeling incapacitated for the rest of the day! As more of us began to surface we all clung to each other for support in blowing of the assault course, which we successful managed to do, far more successfully than I managed to hold on to the contents of my stomach (again)! However, like a trooper Craig still attempted it, I had trouble climbing off John's sofa into my car, when my beautiful yet unsympathetic fiancée folded me into the car to take me home. The rest of Sunday was spent nursing sore muscles and a sore head, but despite how crap we all felt, obviously as a result of our own stupidity, the weekend was a complete success. We did put some serious effort in and having a lot of the boys together and getting to know one another was priceless and come the event those bonds we've now formed as a group will only become stronger.
|John & Cooper|
|Peckle and Karl|
|Adam & Bansky|
|Who says white men can't jump.......|
|Almost half the Team - Rushy, Banksy, Ads, Cooper, John Midds, Peckle and Beany!|