Back in the game
It is with great pleasure and relief that I’m able to deliver this note because for the last week, it was looking as likely as a decently dressed Hilton twin; not good. Other than being more difficult to post than a plastic chair through a letterbox – the infuriating blog experience has only been marginally overshadowed by the fact I haven’t been able to walk. Equally not good.

That is, until today.

With a torrid history of kicking injuries, falling down stairs and occasional ligament damage, my ankles and feet have taken a decent barrage of abuse over the years. This time I was put out of action by an over zealous stride during a brutal 25km desert hike, which ruined my right foot. However, ice tactics and an unimpeded bout of positive thinking has led to a swift recovery and I will be hacking it in the desert if it kills me – although death not ideal.

In brief review, my sporting roots have always been in martial arts. I started training Kyokushinkai when I was about five and after a number of regional and national tournaments over the years, I was selected to fight for my country (Wales) as a junior. As a senior, I emigrated to Australia and couldn’t find a decent club so I gave fighting a miss for a stint on the rugby field.

Uni years followed, as did Renshinkan, Muay Thai and MMA – mainly fighting regional full contact knockdown bouts – although those were the last of serious competition days. Since then, I’ve been busy with snowboarding, climbing, longboarding, gym and capoeira.

While I’ve always kept up a decent level of fitness, I’ve never in my life lost the plot long enough to commit to such a ridiculous adventure. But other than the fear of paddling until my arms fall off or getting lost in the world’s largest expanse of sand, I’m looking forward to six days of physical and mental abuse.

It's imperative to remember that pain is weakness leaving the body, apparently.

Most looking forward to: Orienteering without getting rained on. i.e. not bumbling about in Snowdonia.

Least looking forward to: Being anywhere near Jeff’s tent at sleep-o-clock; mind-boggling volume of snore.