Being Guildmaster of the Guild of Adventurers isn’t easy. I mean, if I’m not adventuring, who the hell is?! I am obliged, by the Gods of chaos, exploration and revelry, to pursue adventure as regularly as possible. This is a vow I have taken, by the light of the moon. So it must be – not matter what the situation, or how bad I feel.
So, it was with 7 hours’ sleep in 48 hours, a hangover 2 days in the making, and countless bruises from a bare knuckle night-sparring session that lasted from 02:30 – 05:30 a couple of nights earlier…that I made my way to the Spartan Race, in Reigate.
I was not alone, however! I was accompanied (and driven there) by none other than Master of Ceremonies, Simon ‘Bunn Slayer’ Lowe, known to the wise as the Grand Vizier of Murderbeers. Together, we navigated the bullshit that is English countryside driving and made our way to the scene of what promised to be utter madness…
The first UK Spartan Race in the calendar (and also the nearest to us), the Reigate race is actually a ‘sprint’. By that, I mean it’s only 3 miles of running, hill sprinting, crawling through mud, climbing rope ladders, carrying things, throwing things, crawling through ice and generally getting covered in crap.
And it was…fun. Genuinely. I mean, I felt God damn awful for the first mile or so, as my (probably still drunk) body rebelled against the fact I was moving at all, let alone running! But, once my legs realised I wasn’t going to stop, they started behaving themselves and I managed to enjoy the course.
The obstacles varied in their awesomeness, from BADASS crawling through ice laced with electric shockers, to lame running with a bag, or walking through a ditch. In honesty, there were lots of elements that didn’t really count as obstacles in my book. Throwing a ‘spear’, for example – not an obstacle. Balancing on a piece of wood, 2 inches from the ground – not an obstacle. If it had been Tough Guy, there would have been an icy lake beneath us at that point, not…the ground.
Still, the whole thing was wicked fun (other than the hill sprinting, which I genuinely despise). In fact, it was so much fun that when it ended, which it did far too soon, I really wanted to go around again!
Perhaps I’m judging it too harshly. After all, it was the shortest of the Spartan Races. Next up, there is the Super Spartan (12km) and, after that, the Spartan Beast (12 miles). The Beast bills itself as the toughest of all races! But then again, so does Tough Mudder and so does Tough Guy, which nearly killed me…
…I suppose there’s only one way to find out which is the hardest…BRING IT OOOOOOOOOOOOON!