Nobody said it was easy

I thought 100 days was a nice, round point to start my training for Tough Mudder. Start off with some walking, some jogging, maybe even some burpees and planks (I had to search Youtube to discover what a burpee was). The trouble is, I'm quite highly skilled in the art of procrastination. 'Never do today what you can put off until tomorrow' will no doubt be what Jane puts on my tombstone. So Day 100 came and went without any training. So did Day 99. My only excuse is that I had five pupils taking their tests this week. All five passed, so I think I was justified in (slightly) delaying my training.
This morning I was looking at my diary and trying to think where I could possibly fit in some training. With 12 more tests in the next couple of weeks, it is going to be a struggle.
Now, I'm usually not too impressed when someone cancels a lesson with less than 48 hours notice but, today, when someone cancelled a two hour lesson, I thought 'great, I can get some training done'. I was lucky enough to have afternoon pupils who were willing to bring their lessons forward, so I was looking forward to finishing lessons at 5pm and getting out there and transforming my slightly less than perfect physique into a lean, sculpted, perfect specimen of the male form.

Last week, up here, people were getting sunburnt and the temperatures reached the twenties. It was a pleasure giving lessons with the windows down, or even the air-con on. Today, on the day I wanted to get out there, it was cold and wet. In my penultimate lesson of the day, we were nearing the end of the lesson when it started to hail. Hard. Quickly the roads began to fill with ice. The temperature was dropping, so it was not melting. My pupil, Helen, lives in Milton of Leys, which is up on the hills which overlook Inverness from the South.
As we began to head up the A9, the hail had turned to snow, and I mean real snow. It was settling quickly and as we began to head up the dual-carriageway, we could see traffic slowing ahead. Conditions were getting so bad that vehicles were struggling to get a grip and some were even beginning to slide backwards. Very quickly both lanes were at a complete standstill and the police were doing a grand job, shovelling snow from beneath the wheels of lorries and trying to push cars who were struggling to get a grip. Now Helen has only had about twelve hours, so I had not covered driving uphill in snow while other vehicles are slipping back toward us. I asked her if she was willing to tackle it, or would she prefer me to take over. She did an incredible job, controlling the car with precise control of the clutch and very careful use of the accelerator. We did what few others seemed to be doing and kept a healthy gap from the car in front, which gave us much more flexibility. When, on the many occasions we could see traffic was not moving at all, we put the handbrake on, switched off the engine and had a good laugh at the stupidity and futility of some drivers who thought they could make progress by trying to change lanes whenever one lane seemed to be moving slightly more than the one they were in. Finally, after over an hour since the traffic first began backing up, we managed to get off the A9 and get Helen home, where I congratulated her on some superb driving.
By now, I had had to cancel my last lesson of the day due to the conditions, and I headed home, I started preparing dinner, then I realised I was doing it again! I was putting off my training. I looked out the window at the weather. I can't go out in this I thought. Much more sensible to stay warm, open a bottle of wine and enjoy the unexpected time off.

One of the most notorious obstacles in the Tough Mudder is the Arctic Enema (see photo), where you have to jump into a pool of iced water, duck completely under a bar halfway across, and climb out the other side. In three months I will have to do this, yet I'm not going out training because of a little bit of snow. Time to man up. I looked worriedly out the window as I changed into my running gear. I went to Brodie Castle, a mile down the road from me, and thought I would do some laps of the castle grounds for half an hour. Best not to push myself too much on the first day, I told myself. The plan was to jog until I began to feel uncomfortable, walk until I felt ok, jog, walk, jog, etc for half an hour. The snow got heavier, and my red fleece was now almost completely white and I had the lyrics to Coldplay's The Scientist going round in my head. After twenty minutes I made the fatal mistake of jogging within sight of my car. That was that. My willpower left me and I walked back to the car. By now I was beginning to struggle and my chest felt as though it was being sat on. 'This is really stupid' I thought. 'How can I possibly do the Tough Mudder? I shall admit defeat and just go to support the others'.
I got home, still struggling to bring my breathing down to a non-worrying level and tried to stretch, avoiding the temptation to collapse on the bed.
I finally did get my glass of wine - I had definitely earned it - and, to my surprise, a little voice in my head started telling me 'it's not so bad, it's only Day 1 of training, things will get easier.' I may have to abstain from searching for videos of the event, because it all looks a little scary. And I may even have to have to odd day off from training - tomorrow I am working from 7.30am until nearly 9.00pm. But, as long as I keep telling myself 'Don't give up', I am sure I will get there in the end. Gulp.