So after coming back from Glastonbury and then recovering from a subsequent fluey type thing (clearly unrelated) it started to dawn on us that we literally have 4 months until WTM. From no exercise at all, to coping with a 24hr endurance event in 16 weeks? 

Never gunna happen.

Although it was ultimately shortening what little time I had before embarrassing myself in front of numerous seasoned pros in the Nevada desert, I was quite happy to come down with the flu as it was delaying the inevitable ‘first run’… Which I was pretty sure was not only going to be exceedingly painful but also confirm the fact that there was absolutely no way on this earth I’m ever going to be “ready” for WTM by 15th November.

But after the antibiotics had done their thing and with a new set of inhalers to stop any unwarranted exercise induced asphyxia (a definite possibility) we were good to go. Well, not ‘good’. Obviously. But as ready as I could be.

Don’t laugh, but as it was just the first time out and Rob knows how anti-running I generally am (after 30 years without a license I now resent having to use my legs when there is a perfectly good car available) we decided to literally run to the end of the road, which is only 0.6 miles or something equally pathetic. Gotta start somewhere.

Long story short we ended up doing 2 miles. Yeah, I know, I was pretty shocked too! Me! 2 miles! On our first run! Then, as if this couldn’t get any more fucked up and un-Emily-like, after another run later that week, last week we went for the same 2 mile run, BEFORE WORK. Haha, wtf is going on?

Well… it may have something to do with another motivationally inspired dangling carrot. Hard work has to be rewarded right? Right. And believe me, for a sloth like me, this is hard bloody work. So we have decided that the day we do our first 10 mile run, when we get home we get to book a weekend in ‘Dam, one of our most favourite cities in the world.

Sounds lovely and as much as I can sit here and merrily type about it, actually doing it is quite another story altogether.

We have done three 2 mile runs. 2 miles. We haven’t gone any further in one go. And as much as I was hoping Rob could be persuaded the 10 mile reward could be accumulative, apparently, that’s a step too far 😦 So I need to just break this 2 mile psyche. Not just the psyche though, the fact that I am still a wheezing mess incapable of going further once we hit 2 miles (which i’ll admit may even include a tiny bit of walking), is also a big problem. My general fitness is terrible. No, worse that that. It’s simply non-existent.

So…. on our 2 mile route there are those free outdoor fitness things. One evening this week we decided to walk down there and have a go at the equipment. Some of the obstacles at WTM include things like monkey bars etc and as it turns out they have hanging bars on the running trail so I was keen to see what I could do. I wasn’t that worried to be honest. Not like I was, AM, about the running. I love Go Ape and all those kinda places and, although I don’t run, you can’t move house as much as we do without being able to shift a bit of weight so yeah, although the obstacles can look intimidating, it was only the running I had really been panicking about.

How wrong was I.

I casually sauntered up to the hanging bars, grabbed on, lifted my legs and pulled myself up for the first ‘rep’ (oh yeah, down with the lingo man). Instantly I realised I may have been somewhat overconfident with my assumption the running was my only problem with WTM.

With shaky arms, a face the shade of crimson, gritted teeth and what I refused to believe was a bead of sweat trickling down my brow, I attempted rep 2. Hmm. Yes. 2.

And promptly failed. Miserably.

One rep. Unbelievable.

So now, not only do I have to somehow get over this 2 mile mental block and actually start running a half credible distance, but also miraculously go from “easy” exercise, like being capable of handling a few miles on the rowing machine, to being able to repeatedly lift and carry my own weight.

It’s all turning into a bit of a joke.

We were supposed to go out for a ride today in an attempt to vary the exercise (and coz Rob’s missing it), but we’re too hungover and instead are, you guessed it, chilling out on the sofa, playing the new Grid game on the PS, stuffing our faces with a McDonalds.

I really don’t think we’re Tough Mudder material…