Mud Sweat & Tears - Bear Grylls [112]
Charlie ended up naked on a post in the middle of the harbour, we got rescued twice having broken down trying to water ski behind the underpowered Shara, and we had a huge bonfire whilst playing touch-rugby by firelight.
Perfect.
At this stage, I was also living a pretty unhealthy lifestyle. I was eating too much, smoking and drinking (which is always daft), and not training at all.
Predictably, I piled on the pounds and looked pretty rough.
But I just wanted to get away from fitness and training and being focused and all of that.
I wanted a life. Away from the military, away from the mountains, away from pressure.
All through university, whilst my friends had played, I had worked my guts out on SAS Selection, and then on Everest.
Now I just wanted a break.
Eventually, I remember doing one of my earliest TV interviews and watching myself in horror afterwards. I looked bloated and pale. I realized that if I didn’t get a hold of this and rein it all back, I would be in danger of never doing anything else of value with my life.
That wasn’t in my game plan.
I didn’t want to live in the past – just talking about Everest and looking like a has-been.
If I was to move on, and make something of all that I had risked and built over the past few years, then I needed to start walking the talk.
It was time to get fit again.
Going through this phase, though, did confirm in my mind that at least Shara wasn’t marrying me for either my looks or money.
I was both broke and bloated.
She, bless her, still loved me all the same.
CHAPTER 104
Our wedding took place on a blustery, midwinter day. The fifteenth of January 2000. Yet the sun shone through the clouds brightly.
Shara’s father, Brian, who so sadly was suffering with multiple sclerosis, gave her away from his wheelchair in the church.
Brian cried. Shara cried. Everyone cried.
We left the church to our friends singing a cappella versions of ‘Hey, Hey, We’re the Monkees’ and ‘I’m a Believer’.
I was the happiest I had ever been.
Right decisions make you feel like that.
We then danced to a Peruvian street band that Trucker had come across, and ate bangers and mash at long tables. The day was above all, love-filled.
We were both among the first, and youngest, of our group of friends to be married, which made it feel even more special. (A wedding was novel for all of us, in those days.) And Charlie and Trucker made everyone cry some more with their best-men speeches.
Several months earlier Shara and I had bought a home together. Well, to be more accurate it was a barge, moored on the Thames in central London.
Neil had spotted it for us, and we looked round it straight away. I instantly loved it.
We had previously been quite close to putting in an offer on a tiny, poky studio flat in London – but deep down I was concerned.
For a start, I couldn’t really afford it. Dad had offered to help me secure a mortgage if I could make the repayments, but I knew it would be a stretch to make those every month.
The barge, on the other hand, was less than half the price – and way cooler.
It was pretty sparse, cold and damp when we looked round it, and Shara and her family were definitely a little tentative at first.
But I got to work on the PR front.
‘Hey, it will be fun. We can do it up together – it will be a challenge. We can then make it all cosy and a home.’
Shara tilted her head at me in her way.
‘I’m a little nervous about the “challenge” bit. Can we focus on the homely and cosy part of the plan instead, sweetheart?’ she replied, still looking concerned.
(Sure enough, she totally changed after we got to live on our barge for a while, and nowadays, wild horses couldn’t force her to sell the boat. I love that in her. Shara always takes such a lot of convincing, and then once she makes something ‘hers’, it is hers for ever. Me included.)
We spent two months doing up the boat with our good friend Rob Cranham. He was amazing. He lived on board and worked tirelessly to help us make it a home. Rob converted it to just how we had envisaged. This