I am writing this in the bath, where I have been for the last 20 minutes. Before my bath, I had a 30-minute shower and two hair washings. One large bug was washed out of my hair – and some skin fell off my shoulder.

And there’s the mud. Lots and lots of mud. It’s all over the shower room and I don’t think I’ll have the energy to clean it up for a while. I’ve written before about being up to my arse in mud. Today it went a lot further than just my arse. I’m hoping this bath will get the mud out of those hard-to-reach places – which is anywhere lower than my knees, since it hurts to bend down.

Yes, I’ve just done the Legion Run.

Why? I can’t remember.

My motto for this year is ‘Just Do It.’ So when I saw the Legion Run advertised on Facebook, I stayed true to this motto and just booked it. Despite knowing very little about what’s involved. In retrospect, that was a good idea.

Thankfully I wasn’t on my own. Three of my friends also wanted to do it and together we were Team Legend. Team work has never been my strength; I loathe team sports and at work I just wanted to be left to do it myself. But, god, I loved being in a team today. Really, I couldn’t have done it without the lovely Team Legend ladies – they were incredible.

The Legion Run is 5km of obstacles – 37 of the buggers, I think I overheard. I lost count after the first four. It took place in a massive quarry just outside Nicosia. Spectators stood on the edge of the quarry to watch the shenanigans below. There was almost zero privacy for an emergency wee en-route, but I didn’t care by the end.

After an initial 2km run, we met our first obstacle. There were too many to describe them all, but they ranged from crawling through mud under barbed wire nets to jumping over fire. There were monkey bars, ropes, slides into muddy water, a climb up the steep side of the quarry (avoiding the mini-avalanches), and endless walls to get yourself over.

My highlights include:

The mud pools – swimming underwater beneath barriers, then being blasted with a turbo-charged jet of water as you tried to crawl out. We were so hot by then, it felt refreshing.

The Rubicon – a canal full of muddy water that you had to wriggle backwards along. It had a roof over it so there wasn’t much space. There was something so satisfying about squelching in the mud!

Working with my team mates, giving each other leg-ups and bum-ups over the walls.

The amazing, testosterone-fuelled atmosphere that had us roaring inexplicably at various points.

The help of total strangers – usually beefy men – hauling my muddy arse up ridiculous-sized walls.

The liberating indignity involved in pulling myself over the obstacles – knowing that I chose my pants today with practicality and comfort in mind, and not because of their VPL (visible pant-line) qualities. With my bum stuck in the air at a 60-degree angle, 10ft off the ground, I didn’t give two hoots who could see my pants (after all, my bum had already been seen after a not-so-discreet wee).

That giddy rush of adrenaline that comes when you’ve done something awesome (that may have killed you if it had gone wrong).

Getting over the Colossus – all 7.5 metres of it. It looked very intimidating. You had to run up a big wall (think steep skate-slope). It’s so high that the only way you can get up there is by grabbing a rope or ripped t-shirt of a fellow participant hanging over the top. On my first go I couldn’t keep hold of the rope and slid back down. I don’t think my bum will ever look the same after the friction burn it got. I was better prepared the second time and could have snogged the bloke at the top who hauled me up. You got down by slide into a deep muddy pool – brilliant fun!

The greatest highlight, though, was managing to do something we didn’t think we were capable of. One team-mate had worried for the last couple of weeks that she wouldn’t be able to do the monkey bars and would let the team down. She was the only one of us who did all ten bars. Another team mate stood on the top of a wall, petrified about throwing herself over a 7ft drop to the wall in front. But despite how scared she was, she did it – not once, but twice. That’s genuine bravery to me, when you are that scared and do it anyway. Awesome lady!

 
My particular challenge was Tartarus, the 20m tiny tunnel. It’s designed to be claustrophobic. I don’t often get claustrophobia, but a few years ago I tried to crawl through an old Viet Cong tunnel in Vietnam and had my first claustrophobia-induced anxiety attack. I said straight off that I wasn’t attempting this tunnel – there was no point getting in a state and ruining the rest of the course for myself. But filled with a cocktail of adrenaline, testosterone and encouragement from my team-mates, I somehow found myself crawling through it without panicking. I felt so proud.

And that was the greatest thing about the Legion Run – it was just so bloody empowering. I didn’t know I could do some of the things I did today. I realise I sometimes define myself by what I couldn’t do at school. I was a weedy teenager – I couldn’t climb a hill, I couldn’t run and I had zero upper body strength. All these years later, I’m stronger and fitter – it’s a brilliant feeling.

Will I do the Legion Run again? Hell yes!! It was awesome.