Easy like a ZOMBIE morning…
So what did you get up to on Easter Sunday? Oh not much, just got chased by zombies and pushed off pallets in the middle of a field, you know, your average Sunday morning phys. The best way to approach training is to make it fun in my opinion, because I mean who wants to hold a plank or squat position until your body is shaking, screaming at you to flop onto the floor and give up. Not me, especially on a Sunday morning. But when you’ve got the motivation of zombies chasing you and enemies to push out of your safe house I.e. Pallet, into the fray it all becomes so much more fun holding that plank for an extra 30 seconds, pushing your body that little bit further with sheer will power.
Any game involving pretending to be a zombie is fun but for those being the ‘survivalists it also brings out the dog eat dog, backstabbing joy of screwing over other team mates…the punishment for losing? Burpees. The staple punishment of a trainer from a military background, they separate the wheat from the chaff. One of the biggest lessons I have taken from the weekend, get good at Burpees or training weekends will NEVER get any easier.
Teamwork was essential for this exercise. I learnt to play to my strengths and that of my teammates. Compared to the majority of my fellow players I am quite small and weak, simple fact when you train with the big, brash, smelly men of the fed So I crouched down on my safe house, lowering my centre of gravity. This made it harder for people of a broader and taller stature to knock me over and essentially plough through me. It helped being back to back with our wonderful Captain Kurgan. He’d take the enemy/enemies head on while I hung back, hanging onto the pallet for dear life, choosing the opportune moment, when their balance was off, to push the appropriate pressure point and watch them fall into the arms of our frenemies, the zombies. Muhahahaha no burpees for us!
There’s a bit of a continuing saga which I may have voiced quite audibly to a few members of the team. I am attending Battle of the Nations Championships as support which means that I have be approved by an authenticity committee in a medieval dress.
I’m not opposed to wearing dresses however, suffice to say my current wardrobe is inappropriate to say the least. With nothing really falling longer than my knees, nor sufficiently covering the cleavage.
And so my quest begins to source enough medieval garb to get approved by the all powerful and knowledgeable authenticity critics. It’s a race against the clock so naturally I jump on my trusty friend Amazon Prime for next day delivery to find a 14th Century under-dress, kirtle and coif. Apparently, this is a little too niche for Amazon to handle. I try Ebay but it is only offering nasty costume replicas and fantasy LARP attire.
I find myself navigating through the confusion of online medieval shops and wonder what this bullshit is all about. Hours of scrolling through limited lines of chemises to linen aprons. Since when was online shopping very F*&@* medieval?
The delivery times make me wonder if they’re commissioning a royal charter just for the occasion. Dispatching the finest Hanseatic League post-rider to deliver to the North Circular costs extra.
By Sunday afternoon all is well. With Rexie and Sofie as my medieval stylists I’m ready for the authentication run-way in a little number that resembles a Elizabethan period tent. That will teach me to not qualify for BotN 2018.