First Challenge - Tough Guy

So that’s Tough Guy is it, next time I might hop round in a rhino costume just to make it challenging…

You may think it’s a sweeping generalisation or you may think it’s stating the bleeding obvious, but men lie. Not all the time, of course, but when they have achieved something (anything) they seem to find it hard not to lie. And, depending on the circumstances, this lie takes one of two forms. Either they underplay their achievement (often when they have accomplished something they know is impressive and want to belittle others) or they overstate how difficult the task was to make it look more impressive (often when they have struggled in the goal). For example:

Amundsen – it was nothing really. We had a bit of a stroll, ate a couple of ice creams and the lads had a snowball fight – they are crazy guys. Turns out the South Pole is a bit drab, not much to see so we took a photo of the group, that Bjaaland chap put two fingers up behind my head, it was hilarious. We then had a picnic and came home. It was fun and everything but we ran out of mead, which was a bit tricky.

Scott – I mean, it’s probably not worth telling you because you won’t believe me but, honest injun’, you’ve never seen anything like it. All our food was stolen in the night and we had to eat our little fingers for breakfast. Then, 5 minutes after we left the tent the snow started falling so hard that we had to get shovels out to clear a tunnel while it was still in the air. Then a load of 10 foot yetis appeared and started chasing us. These yetis had big teeth and everything, and I don’t just mean big teeth like a lion or something, these teeth were 8 inches long and sharp like sabres. We were lucky to escape but I think someone moved the South Pole because I had a proper good map and compass, but they said the pole was much closer than it actually was. Ask Oates when he gets back – he’ll tell you.

So I’ll try not to be Johnny Big Bollocks and I’ll try not to be Understating Dave about today.

The course itself was not as tough as I had expected. I had anticipated some hyperbole in the marketing literature and that was clearly the case – for example 4 metre fences were probably 3 metres and the underwater caves were more like a series of wooden planks to duck under – and it’s a good thing for me that was the case.

My training must have been pretty good because that side of it wasn’t a problem. As far as the run was concerned, the worst part was getting stuck behind competitors when trying to go uphill or scramble under a net. The posture you need for either activity highlighted the fact that, for some reason, a lot of those taking part had (as I believe is the modern parlance) a lot of junk in their trunk. So it was all a bit stop start. The good spell continued for three quarters of the obstacle course. It was mostly in and out of water but the water was never more than waist (or waste) deep and you just had to run through it. Then the water got deeper and repeatedly required going under the surface. Shortly after this started things took a turn for the worse. It was not physical really, I was still able to run, climb and scramble, but I could feel the lifeblood/soul/spirit or whatever it is that raises us above being just a group of well organised cells draining out of me. I first knew I was in trouble when the Only Fools and Horses theme tune started playing on a loop in my head just after jumping off a plank about 10 feet above a muddy pond.

From then every obstacle I came to I was praying there would be no water, but there was. I came to planks across the water but was so off balance that I stayed on them for about 50cm and could not even consider climbing back up. I was causing a delay and being pushed up banks I had been doing in one bound at the start. I don’t really remember finishing except noticing that the clock said 2 hours 3 minutes. I suspect it started more than 3 minutes before I did so hoped I beat 2 hours. I then filed through the formalities and back to the changing area.

The competitors had to leave their changing equipment in a barn, Paul and I had left ours by an old mattress so we could locate it easily. I went into the barn and tripped over a small bale of hay (maybe 15cm off the ground). A girl asked me if I was ok and I said yes and then tried to find the mattress. I could see a mattress but could not get to it. An Irish guy stopped me, looked at me and told me he was getting a marshal. His mate stayed with me. Paul came in before the marshal arrived, saw me and got my bag. I was in an odd way, maybe the initial stages of hypothermia. I was shivering and groggy. I knew I was not right but I didn’t care. I could not be bothered to do anything about it. I tried to talk and answer questions. I knew I was stuttering but Paul told me later I was also missing words out of sentences. Paul and the Irish guys, Simon and Fearghal, were incredible. They talked to me constantly, got me a hot drink and silver blanket, and I hope if the situation was reversed I would be selfless enough to remove a complete strangers filthy, soaking socks too. Paul, who had generously done the driving despite it being the day after his own 30th birthday, then walked me back to the car – carrying my bags and his, and guiding me when my legs cramped up. It’s funny because I saw Paul just before the underwater part of the course and he looked all over the place, whilst I felt fresh. I was worried about him (or at least I was until all I could think was “God Bless Hooky Street, C’est magnifique Hooky Street…”) but he seemed completely fine at the end. The heating in the car was turned high on me and after about 45 minutes I was feeling fine. Now my only problem is that I have very little skin left on my legs. I do, however, have a medal.

And that is that for the first challenge except to say:

It wasn’t my intention to make any entry in this blog particularly long, if you have got this far I suspect you skimmed most of the above. However, in this case I wanted to use my limited skills to explain why I am so grateful to Paul, Simon and Fearghal (even though the latter two at least will never read this) for what they did for me today. If they had not been there I wouldn’t have died, or gone to hospital, I would have got home eventually but all three put aside their own concerns to help me through something I hope I will never experience again.

After all that I don't really have a conclusion as to whether Tough Guy deserves its slightly homoerotic name or not. I got around pretty quickly and if I did it again maybe I wouldn’t have the same reaction and would wonder what all the fuss is about. But I’m not going to do it again to find out.

And just to bang on for two additional points:
· The unsecured nature of the facilities meant that I did not take any pictures, but official photographs were being taken all around the route so I hope there maybe some I can post soon.

· It turns out Simon and Fearghal were using the event as a prelude to a 16 month circumnavigation of the world by bicycle (now that’s a challenge). You can check that out at www.revolutioncycle.ie.

Final Checklist

• Suitable clothing - check
• 2 Pairs of waterproof gloves and bag to carry them - check
• Insurance - check
• Pre and post Challenge meals planned - check
• Travel planned - check
• Weather forecast checked - check
• Death warrant signed - check
• Violent sickness causing me to lose half a stone in weight in 12 hours - check

The problem with alcohol

I do not intend to describe each Challenge in detail - most are self explanatory. However, as each one approaches it makes sense to give a bit of background on it. Unfortunately I cannot give much detail on the first one, Tough Guy (http://www.toughguy.co.uk/), because I found that the more I read about it the more ridiculous and masochistic it seems. Solution - stop reading about it.

Tough Guy was one of the original events that spawned the 30th Year Challenges idea. Paul had done it before, Paul calls it the most painful thing he has ever done and Paul had just bought a round at the end of a fairly long evening last summer. The conversation is a little vague but it approximated to:

Paul - Do you fancy doing Tough Guy next year?
Denzil - What does it actually involve?
Paul - A cross-country run followed by an assault course - but it is difficult.
Denzil -Ok then, why not?
Paul - The earlier you book the cheaper entry is.

I booked 3 days later.

Paul has spent the last few months suddenly remembering more and more about the event. The cross-country run goes up and downhill, through ditches, fences and undergrowth for about 8 miles and then the assault course includes electric fences, fire, underwater tunnels (in January cold water), climbing frames, large walls and concrete tunnels. All designed to cause competitors maximum pain. And apparently only about half the entrants complete it.

I know I cannot compete without signing a death warrant and I know it takes place near Wolverhampton. It was a good idea after 6 pints but since then I have not found a redeeming feature. Still, it makes sense to get the most stupid challenge out of the way first.

A bicycle made for who?

Now I understand the basic concept of the bicycle, it's simple. Two wheels; the back wheel attached to a chain, which is attached to peddles that a person powers using their legs and the front wheel can be directed using handlebars. You sit on a seat that supports you whilst allowing the legs to move appropriately and it is all held together by a metal frame. It is clear that some of the challenges will require this ingenious contraption. So I decided to take advantage of the January sales and get one on the cheap.

My Internet research has just introduced me to a world full of words that look familiar but mean nothing: carbon frames, aluminium frames, straight frames, angled frames, forks, groupsets, cleats. And I'm not sure if I was looking at saddles or some sort of ancient operatic tool for creating castrati . Bicycles are built for on-road, off-road, racing, time-trialling, touring, stunts, commuting or a combination of these. And the price range seems to have no boundaries. I am going to need an expert, either that or I find the London to Brighton on a pennyfarthing challenge.

Get up and glow

It is not my intention in this Blog to bore on about training schedules and diets but I also do not want to give the impression that I am completely bumbling around in the dark. This week I have been in email contact with Gary Emrich, my guide for the Alcatraz Swim. I asked him for tips and advice to make what is currently the challenge that scares me most a bit easier. He suggested I eat oatmeal beforehand because it created a thermos flask effect on the body. He also advised I try it first so my body is not taken by surprise by its oatty goodness.

I have never been bothered by exciting tastes in the morning, my palate is dead at breakfast. So this morning I tried oatmeal and it really works. Warming, filling, energising and tastier than its papier mache appearance would suggest. However, it is a bugger to prepare (don't expect a recipe) and I have no idea how it can be done using a travel kettle in a San Francisco hotel room. Just one more little hillock to overcome.

The Credit Crunch

I have realised that in order for this year to be more than a calamitous bumper car journey from one half planned challenge to another that I need to do a bit of proper research. I have looked into travel, equipment required, insurance and a number of other factors that have led me to one conclusion - done properly it is going to be horrendously expensive. I had anticipated very, alarmingly or even shockingly but horrendously....

Considering the nature of the year maybe a fairground ride approach is a more appropriate option.

Opening Day Regrets

I wish I could say that it had seemed like a good idea at the time but that would imply to the reader (and I use the singular quite deliberately) that there was a particular time when this was a rationally thought out idea, and that it was good. The truth of the matter is that the 30th Year Challenges notion has resulted from a combination of long standing ambitions, a few whimsical notions and a number of drunken conversations that, through circumstance, coincidence and just a little planning happen to be taking place in the same 12 month period. It then grew organically, which is the fashion at the moment, to become a little excessive.

And so I found myself on the cold, dark morning of the nominal start date of the 30th Year Challenges running down a main road slowly realising that a cocktail of pride, curiosity, recklessness and optimism had kicked in and - barring injury, logistical problems or financial difficulty - the year was going to happen. One word kept going through my mind, and it will no doubt go through my mind a lot over the next 366 days (2008 had to be a bloody leap year), "Dickhead".

At that point my knee started hurting a bit so I immediately headed home.