Its been just over two weeks since Tough Mudder London South and after unintentionally giving myself a couple of weeks R&R due to a university work overload I am now officially bored and looking for my next adventure!
Having taken on the big TM and coming out of the other side unscathed I felt ready to take on the world. The initial trauma of the “Walk the plank” was followed by the elation of being an official mudder, this excitement led me to make the decision to go back for more next year. The excitement was short lived because only a couple of days after having shared my story with everyone and anyone who would listen, it hit me, a massive Tough Mudder come down!
What the hell do I do now?
I couldn’t help but ask myself why my normal life was so dull compared to the adrenaline fuelled adventure I took part in on October 26th. How could anything ever compare to the sense of achievement I felt? How could I be content with normal running? And how the hell could I get that feeling back and soon?
After seven months of solid training for this one event, It has taken me nearly two weeks to adjust back into normal life and not feel completely sad that it’s all over! I lived it, I loved it but it’s time to concentrate on my next goal and hopefully my next accomplishment, my very first half marathon!
Yesterday was Sunday, after a heavy night of bad food and copious amounts of Vodka, Sambuca and Tequila, in a slightly still drunken haze I decided it would be a good idea to go out for a run! Alarm bells Nikki! Having already been slightly sick in the morning and having eaten absolutely nothing I don’t know how I thought this run would end well. It didn’t, At 3 miles after attempting one hill sprint but making the energy drink jiggle around in my belly making me feel sick again I decided to go easy on the next hill. A normal pace up the hill but forcing myself to reach the top ended with me bent over at the side of the road, throwing up the only thing in my belly, the energy drink I had been sipping to cure my dehydration. It wasn’t over quickly and as I spied dog walkers behind me I desperately tried to hurry myself up so I could begin running the 3 miles back home. I was not in a good way, stop start stop start all the way home meant that my pace was terrible. About a mile from home it decided to absolutely chuck it down so then I was forced to speed up to get home without completely soaking myself and my poor iPhone. My Nike app paused for a whole mile so my reading went wrong, the run literally couldn’t have got any worse!
Home finally after a pitiful 5.78 mile run at an embarrassing pace of nearly 11 minutes per mile but I have learnt a valuable lesson.
1 – I will never run on an empty stomach!
2 – I will never run with a hangover AGAIN!
3 – I am never drinking again!! My hangover lasted until I shut my eyes at 10pm! Damn you Sambuca, you kill me!
Here’s hoping tomorrow will be a better run!
Until next time