Typical day;

Get up, get ready for work, travel to work, work, travel home, spend some time with the family, maybe do some training, got to bed. 

Fridays and Saturdays maybe go out clubbing, maybe get completely rat arsed with your binge-drinking buddies, spend Sunday regretting it and then back into the weekday routine.

Where's the challenge in that?

When I decided to write my book it was the biggest challenge of my life. Everything else that I had done up to that point was a dream that I'd had. The dream of getting a black belt from someone I respected, the dream of having children, the dream of meeting the woman of my dreams. 

Writing a book is different however. If you write a book you're literally baring yourself to every form of condemnation there is. Usually from people who have never even tried to write a book themselves, people who feel that because they're typing away at a keyboard (rather like me now, although I've talked and walked) that they can trash talk you to their heart's content. The other type is the sort that completely misses the whole bloody point of the book and concentrates on the fact that you've said something along the lines of the 'ITF chamber for the rising block at the hip' rant rant rant. Considering that I'd said at the start of the book that it was about working out how to do applications for techniques, how to rate them, and giving some examples, to obsess on how to correctly chamber a block is pointless.

Once I had it out there though, the challenge was gone. I got the odd seminar from people who had bought the book and have had people approach me about affiliation but once it was out on the book shelves (clicks and mortar) it was too late to worry about what people said. They either bought the book and liked it, or bought the book and hated it. Either way I guarantee that they learn something from it, whether it was a set of useful applications for their gradings, or how not to perform the rising block. Kind of a win-win situation really!

But the challenge from my life was gone. Then I got a job with the NHS. Working on a very political and high-profile service desk. Along with the best boss I've ever had and two senior analysts, I had to hit the ground running so that we could recruit another 18 people and have a training regime that would get them up to speed and ready to go live in a month. Manic.

Once they were in it was the challenge of getting ready for go-live and ensuring that we basically didn't ruin a project that everyone was looking at. At the time my boss and I predicted that it would take about 6 months to get up to BAU. we did it in less than three months. There were the odd teething issues, but on the whole it was done very quickly.

So, what else do I have to challenge me? It turns out that I have my gorgeous wife.

There we were watching the London Marathon and I said something along the lines of 'I'm thinking of giving that a go' and she said 'I would be soo proud of you if you did that.' I must have just finished my sherry and cornflake for breakfast because I said 'okay then! I'm going to run a marathon next year.'

Boom. I'm into my next challenge. Why is this a challenge? Because I bloody hate running. When I need to I can run very fast. Get the old 10-9 call on the radio as a Special and I can run from Next on the High Street to the Duke of York, fight a ruffian to the ground and assist in arresting him without breaking too much of a sweat. Get chased by a woman-beating drunk gypsy and I can do a lap of the block barefoot faster than Zola Budd can run on a nice soft track.

Then I just happen to mention to my ultra-fit buddy RAF Regiment Paratrooper buddy Dom that I'm aiming for it and he says (rather predictably) 'Sounds cool, count me in'. Bollocks. Did I say that this guy was ultra-fit? I'm not bloody lying. I've met a lot of fit men and women, very fit men and women and he's the fittest I know. 

So, I start training and then read a running magazine that suggests you start off with some 'short' races of 10km. 10km. Not that far really is it? It's a metric number so it's not like running 10 miles (16km) which is a long way. How hard can that be?

I'm also reading Men's Health and I see an article advertising their Survival Challenge. 10km and it's in Edinburgh as well. Cool, I can go see my buddies Darren and Mel with the family, do the run, have a BBQ and drive back down to England. 

'Sounds good, count me in' says Darren. He too is a fit chappy. Double bollocks.

I realised that maybe I need to start training in Ernest. He tended to complain so I started training in earnest (you've got to love the English language, even if you don't like the joke). It turned out that my ankles bend funny and place too much stress on my knees so I need some different trainers. 

'That'll be £85 please' says the ever-so-helpful sales assistant.

'Hmmmmm, got anything cheaper?'

'Muahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, oooooohhhhhhhh, mauahahahahahahahahahahaahahahaha. Sir IS funny.'

Triple bollocks.

So here I am with a chintzy pair of £85 trainers and just a few weeks of training until my first street race on October 17th.

And before you think (like me) that it's going to be easy. It's not. I decided to declare I was doing it before checking out the website fully. Check out http://mhsurvival.co.uk/page34.asp and click on View Edinburgh Course. Then imagine the face palm I gave myself.

If anyone lives in Edinburgh I'd appreciate the odd piggyback to help me get around.