100 days of Mudder

Father Christmas was very kind to Jane and I last Christmas when, via our daughter Rachel, we received a two night mini-break at the Doubletree Hydro hotel in Dunblane. The second day was very enjoyable, visiting the Falkirk Wheel and walking around the equally impressive Kelpies. 

The first day wasn't so good. It rained and it rained, then, for a bit of variety, it snowed, before raining some more. We had Dolly, our Jack Russell, with us and, rain or no rain, I had to take her for a walk before bed. We walked around the hotel and came to the front, where an impressive lawn sloped very steeply down toward the road. A small sign warned not to walk down the lawn because of danger of slipping (especially on a night like tonight when the ground was so wet), so I stood at the top while Dolly went for a run. In the dark it was difficult to see where she had got to and, as I turned around, my feet slipped from beneath me and, suddenly, I was sliding down the steep slope for at least 20 - 30 metres. As I stood up, I could just about see that I was covered in mud. Soaking wet and caked in mud.
Needless to say, Jane was not particularly impressed but Rachel found the whole thing hysterical when Jane told her the story the next day.

"He looked like he'd done the Tough Mudder" said Jane.
"Oh, we should do that" Rachel suggested.
Now, I had vaguely heard of Tough Mudder - a few of my ex-pupils had taken part in it the previous year - but I had no real idea of what it involved.
Before I could part my lips to offer any opinion, Rachel had already decided that she, Jamie (her fiance), Irene (a friend), Job (another friend) and me would take part as a team. Within seconds she was searching Google and had decided that the Scotland Tough Mudder was too soon, but there is one in Skipton, Yorkshire, on 1st August. Before you can say "I am unfit, overweight and rapidly approaching 50" we had registered for the event and booked two nights accommodation in Yorkshire.
Jobs don't get much more sedentary than mine. The only exercise I get is walking from the driver's side of the car to the passenger side, then back again an hour later. I decided I had better go out for a wee jog - it was scary how long it took me to recover. This Tough Mudder thing really isn't a good idea I decided. I would gladly come along and support, but I wouldn't take part. I couldn't do 12 miles of running up hills, diving into icy water, climbing over all manner of sadistic obstacles. I couldn't even do one mile.
But then I thought 'Is this it? Is this the end of my active life? ' I have run marathons, cycled from John O'Groats to Land 's End, jumped out of aeroplanes, played all manner of sports. Am I now going to say that is all in the past? Is it really time to swap my running shoes for slippers?
" Hell no!!! "
Today I ordered a new pair of mud running shoes. In 100 days time I WILL complete the 2015 Yorkshire Tough Mudder.
Bring it on!