British Military Fitness Part 4

I turned up on Saturday morning apprehensively for my fitness test. At the duly appointed time, some very fit puppies started to arrive, all looking in really good shape and not a blue vest amongst them, apart from me and my tight fitting blue sports bra, and a cheeky bit of belly hanging out the bottom.

Andy asked for people doing the challenge, which threw me a bit as I was expecting a test, however in retrospect, what the hell was I expecting it was always going to be hard, of course it was a challenge. When I was the only one with a hand up and everyone turned and clapped me and shouted good luck with that, I began to suspect something was seriously wrong. Josh agreed to do the test (apparently he set a monster of a time) and some very kind ladies also agreed to accompany me. However, none of this made me feel any better about what was to come.

We then had the warm up session, and I am not kidding when I say, the warm ups kill me, they are fierce and hurt every fibre of my being. Once suitably warmed we headed off for the challenge.

I’m not one for text speak in clear writing, but OMG. For me it was 10 press ups, ten sit ups (I can barely do one) and 10 burpees (of course my quads again) and three short runs, all done five times in a row to completion. On commencement, the sit ups and burpees combined to slowly start killing me. If I was doing strict form, which of course I did try, I do not think I would have finished and would still be there today trying my best. Josh of course finished first and the ladies shortly after, they combined to rally round and push me through my last lot of reps. Thank you people! I did it and even tried a joking dash sprint for the last run. When I say sprint, I am certain a snail overtook me in the long grass. But in my mind it was an epic challenge of Chariots of Fire determination.

Cover of "Chariots of Fire (Two-Disc Spec... — Cover via Amazon

I thought that would be it, but of course this is British Military Fitness, and they do things properly. There is a warm down and exercises to play havoc with your will to live. I believe Andy was a bit concerned as he mentioned my eyes were rolling in every direction. I think I said, or at least in my mind I said, so long as my body is moving leave me be, because I will keep going. When I collapse and there is no breath left in me, then you can worry.

I have my benchmark fitness level now, from memory it was about 19.5 minutes of sheer hell as I recall. Here is the kicker though, when I got home, I worked in the garden moving pallets about from having a brick wall done and other such strenuous things, come the afternoon, I was about as stiff as a coffin and its contents, so remembering Andy’s words, I took my neighbour’s dog for a walk which lasted an hour across the fiercest terrain, even a hardened squaddie would balk at, deep soggy mud. I made it home, I got tucked up in bed having set my alarm for Im a Celebrity, I love that you know. Watched it and went back to bed.

I have a nasty little cough which wont seem to leave me now, I feel fit as, but this niggling cough doesn’t want to relinquish its hold on me.

That’s it then, I now have 24hours to recover for the next dose of hell. You may ask why, and how are you doing with it? I would say, because I have committed to this method, it is what I know and respond to and I think the only way out of my pit of self pity. I do not kid myself that I will be there, in body, in a month, but two months for those of you that see me often, will start to see changes, I can feel the fire in my belly as opposed to hunger pains taking hold. I have just a tad more enthusiasm in other walks of my life, and strangely, Im even a little happy!