Officer Training

On Saturday I embarked on my most challenging journey yet. I had an idea how hard this run would be but I never could of conceived the things that happened to my mind during the long night that followed.


Since day one of training I have made it my mission to always be pushing my boundaries above and beyond the call of duty. This time last month I ran to Guildford, now I planned to run from Portmsouth to Chichester and back again, at night,carrying more weight and obviously having to deal with the side effects of being sleep deprived.

I set of at 2.30am, an hour later then expected. Google maps told me that from PO5 4AY (my postcode) to Chichester was 17.8 miles. Making my total mileage 35 miles. I set off at a slow pace for the first 3 miles, stepping up a gear as I left Portsmouth city and onto the bridge towards the motorway.  As it was the middle of the night I decided to head up the A road and follow signs towards Havant. This was a stupid idea, I nearly got killed by a lorry passing and at one point this "A-road" began to materialise into a fully blown motorway.

I climbed out of the A-road an onto a side road, which happened to be pitch black. I pulled out my Maglite strapped it to my shoulder and ran on. I turned up the pace again into my orange zone. Which I can hold for about 6 miles before starting to feel my lactic levels getting high. On normal circumstances I would of been quite scared of a pitch black side road but I had Llloyd Banks "I'm so fly" on my Ipod playing on my" I'm fucking gangster" playlist.

 I carried on on this side road for around 3 miles before hitting a roundabout. In front of me was a sign saying "Havant" and "Chichester" and to my right "Havant South Industrial Estate". Although straight ahead of me seemed the most logical option I chose to turn right as the road seemed much quieter. I wanted to avoid A-Roads and Motorways as much as possible.  I could get away with hugging the side, but during the run I will be dealing with other peoples lives and it is my priority to ensure everyone safety. "Think Run" . As the road continued I passed an electricity plant, I heard the humming of the current  "Q.U Hectic"  which fitted the mode perfectly. I was hitting 7 or so miles completely alone in the middle of an electricity plant.




I turned right and headed over a bridge covering the motorway I would of been running along If I hadn't of made the decision to take this route.  My "Im fucking Gangster playlist" was getting tired after an hour of being played so I switched  to one of my mixes I done a few months back in London. It was a personal mix for my own listening so I loved every tune that came on. To cut a long story short my pace was fast, passed over some more random side roads before hitting an inevitable stretch of A-Road. Ran along this stretch for around two miles before turning of for Elmsworth. As I reached Elmsworth I stopped briefly for a few minutes to take in some water and a Hydro Gel. I saw a sign that said "Chichester 9". I felt great running at my current pace, I decided to up the tempo to my red zone pace and smash out te last 9 miles in under an hour. I put my head down and braced myself to enter what I call "warp space 1"

Warp Space one is normally where my first wall hits. This wall is purely physical, I tend to get a niggling pain on one point of my body, or Ill contact an incurable wedgie. I have faced and overcome this wall many times before and was prepared for the first onslaught. It came around 5 miles in. I suddenly developed a cramp like feeling inside my groin. The only time I had this sensation before was when I landed back from Indonesia. But that was just Herpes.

Just kidding.

The best music to help overcome the first wall for me is 80s soul or r'nb. I find that gangster rap and other hard forms of music which must people use to overcome walls just get me into a mood. A bit of Mary Jane Girls, a forced smile, and some mid running dancing was the perfect antidote.

As I hit 7 miles I raised my head up and looked in shook as I saw three figures running ahead of me, with backpacks on!! I could not believe my eyes. I had my Maglite on as it was in the middle of the countryside, there were no artificial lights apart from me. I paced up, I noticed how fast these dude were. They stopped and began literally floating over some fences. Seriously these dudes were swift. As I neared the fence I shouted out "I guess im not the only one then!". I shone my Maglite and got a quick glimpse of the men. Definite military. "good luck in Libya" I said again. Surprisingly I didn't get shot or gagged for comprising their position. I carried on. Reaching Chichester at 5.20am.  I stopped for a few minutes to take in another Carbo Gel, then carried on once again.

I was deep into "Warp Space 1" now. Anymore running would result in the onset of "warp space 2". A place I have been two twice before. And a place where the physical pain is overshadowed by a new psychological foe.  For some reason this wall starts to mess with my emotions, during the 2 miles I went through a period of deep sorrow and self doubt. I carried on. Another 4 miles past. These feelings now tuned into anger. A voice inside my head was starting to tell me to "slow down...take it easy, you have done great". I ignored it. 3 miles later. The voice is louder and more prominent.  I stop to take in another Hydro Gel. The sun had nearly rose which meant that I had been running for over 5 hours.

I forge on deep into warp space two. I turn my ipod off. I had to focus on the mental war that was raging in my mind. Music only hampered me. I focused into my soul telling myself that this was the frontier. I was reaching a place of deep calm.  another 3 miles pass and now the voice is a scream. I run back onto an a-road and am smashed by the wind of passing lorries. I was really hungry. Tired and my head was a mess of emotions. I dont know whether it was the lack of sleep but as I ran through a footpath I had a massive sense of deja vu. I know I had ran the same route a few hours before but it was in the middle of the night.  I carried on. Portsmouth was only 4 miles away now. I felt fine until suddenly I hit "Warp space three". I have had never felt such a strong psychological wall. I literally smashed into the iron curtain. I broke. The screams to stop had finally got to me. I sat down.

It was a brilliant day. The sun shone and I was by a lake. I felt crestfallen, getting as far as this to suddenly break was so frustrating. I needed a source of inspiration. Then as if by divine intervention it came to me.
As I sat picking at the grass I gazed up into the distance and saw the spinnaker tower, standing into the morning sun. As if on cue a flock of birds rose from the lake and started to fly. That single moment can not really be put into words. It was a spiritual few seconds. I set off at first I stumbled, then I walked and then I ran. Be it very slowly back to Fratton. I stopped at a shell station and got talking to one of the guys that worked there. We knew each other because I got served by him when I done a 14 miler a few days beforehand. I was a mess physically and mentally and my Hachimaki was slipping over my eye. I told him of my quest and where I had come from. He called me in broken English "a caveman" which I took as compliment!  I stumbled back into my flat at 9.03 am.


This run was not physically the hardest of my training so far. That award goes to Trafalgar Halls x50. But it was the most mentally taxing, because it was at night and I was tired. The battle which raged during the last 12 miles of the run really cannot be put into words. When you are pushed in a Gym, on a football field..in fact most sports. It is for a short time, perhaps "on a mad one" you will reach Warp Space one. But this type of stuff, the Weighted Utra Marathon runs....its next level.

Its Been A While

I haven't really posted in a while. I will make up for it in the next few weeks.



The last time I posted was around a month ago now. To be honest things have just gone mental. I did not expect to be doing half the things I would be doing by April, but this is the power of positive thinking and the will to succeed!

At the end of February me and max met up for our monthly dose of pain. This does of pain was a 24 mile run to Coulsdon back to Redhill and to the top of Box Hill. Here is a clip of our training. Due to our Camera man getting injured we stopped filming at the base of Box Hill, but you get the general picture.

At the start of March I stepped up my training to two daily runs of varying distances. I also stepped up my HIIT training, adding a four mile sprint before I tackled 8 stair climbs and 200 press ups. As It stands im putting in 55-60 mile weeks and this total is only going to get higher. I have also ran out of text books to add to Bertha. I have added a fire extinguisher to my bag to bring Bertha up to 14kgs. My dietary needs are also getting silly. I worked out that in a three day period I eat 2kg of Meat three bags of salad and  400 grams of grapes. And that's just dinner!

I am still motivated to train but at times things do get hard. Sometimes I wake up in the early hours of the morning and look into the distance, hearing the howls of my fellow students coming back from another good night out. Thinking how much I would like to be joining them before realising I have to be up in a matter of hours to run 8 miles. And as more and more people show interest in the event I feel the pressure on my shoulders mounting. I will have to lead the team through some really difficult times and sometimes I forget that I am still only 20 years old.

On the 10th of March I ran up and down my halls 50 times to raise awareness of my cause and to show people that I am fit enough and have the mental strength to complete this quest. Two Spartans joined me , Dan and Will. I would like to thank them for sharing my pain, they made the day a whole lot more fun. I would also like to thank my housemates who helped me massively throughout the day and a host of other people.

As I am writing this I stand only 10 or so weeks out from the beginning of this run. As I said from day one this will not be a holiday walk through Europe but 8 weeks of pain, pain to get to Rome in under 60 days. This was my claim and I am a man of my word. The training, the mental game is all piecing together. Come June we will be ready for anything.