RIP JORDAN
1/10 Just won’t cut it (no shit!)
I’ve now been on my mission critical journey to ultra running professionalism for just over 4 months. My goals were to reach dizzying heights of running athleticism and immerse myself in new cultures and learnings associated with said mission.
On a reverse ephemeral note I wanted to look unreal, having always loved the contours of my own legs I wanted to sculpt them to next level beauty (and usefulness) and I wanted to feel incredible. So incredible I would within a few years take on the incredible UTMB race (it takes years because you need specific race points from particular endurance races to be eligible for the ballot.
A huge focus on achieving the level I want per the next 6 months is my utter desire to get a sponsorship from one of the athletic companies. This might sound odd or unlikely but I’m a genuine believer (more so now than ever) that if you aim for something you can get it.
“Granted sponsorship comes quicker to those who win races – but I’m going to win over hearts”
As anyone who’s read my journey knows I’ve lost 2 stone, running daily and loving it. Hitting the gym, turning to kettle bells and HIIT sessions to increase my strength – and completely transforming my diet. I’m starting to feel really good (when I’m not completely destroyed) and my belief in the ability for me to challenge for top honours within the next year is on point.
I’ve learnt so much since I started, the genius of entering a new tribe is that you come across so many new viewpoints and learnings which have blown my mind (I’ve spent 14 years building a company where nothing but that building mattered to me) – every day I’m learning more about what is possible when you put you mind to it and dedicate the right mindset to the challenge.
And there lies a fault in my armour which I hadn’t truly allowed myself to realise until just now. As I’ve ridded my diet of any dairy, meat, bread, white rice, processed foods, ice cream, blah blah blah (all the shite which we really shouldn’t eat) I’d let in a late night treat. His name was Jordan and he was my comfort blanket.
“Treats are not for the winners of this world – treats is breaking yourself and knowing you did the best you could without the need of a treat incentiviser”
Although I knew it was not ideal I don’t think I’d realised just how much my body was craving the events of sugar (and small percentage of goodness) that came with that late night snack. Lashings of healthy almond milk couldn’t wash away the negative feelings and saturated fat that was filling my mind.
> Read all my journey posts here <
You see I’d physically noticed that the last few weeks I’d wake not feeling that freshness I once had. I woke with a kind haze. A haze I didn’t like but would forgive because my mind got excited when I thought about the next evening hit. Fuck me what have I done! Call the cops (I did but they were the nutritional book types that don’t actually exists) – the haze is caused by the processed carbs. Not what I need.
Yesterday I bought two boxes of Jordan’s country crisp and by midday today I’d had 4 bowls of them! Wtf m8!!! Red the fuck alert. I knew it was a weakness and I had to fight back. That’s called an addiction.
I’ve just ditched them both. It pains me.. I loved Jordan, and he loved me. But I love my sponsorship deals more…
RIP Jordan, welcome back green smoothie life tonic… never let yourself slip again.
Mail me on mills@ustwo.com for sponsorship opportunities!!
