So decision made to give this crazy sport a go! I started to look at my life, my work, and what I practically needed to be, and to do, to give it a go.
As a “swimmer” of old I knew that all I needed to do was commit, put the time in and the endurance would come. At some point swimming in open water would have to be ventured into but I was a way off that yet.
I needed to be doing 2 sessions a week, but the family and work commitments made it nigh on impossible to make the early morning weekday session. I had a patch where I had to switch things around and go to the early beating when my Wife had a training course to attend on Tuesday evenings and it was pivotal.
Straight away I was winning. I got my working day on the front foot, alive and invigorated. I was transported back to the feeling of a teenager rocking up at school feeling superhuman after knocking out 6km of hard work with the rest of my City “A” Squad. The perkiness both mentally and physically, and the feeling in the body of honest hard work somehow woke me up to how I could and should be feeling but just how generally rubbish I had got used to putting up with feeling.
“I simply have to be doing this,” was my overwhelming feeling.
Fast forward a few months and my Wife’s breakdown meant that she reduced her working hours to three days a week so that she and indeed we as a family could be less stressed as a unit.
So I was now unchained to hit the weekday morning session and then head onwards to work. After a period of adjustment I eventually began riding my bike there too before heading to work by pedal power too.
So I was set. Two sessions a week- turn up, drop in, suck it up and let it look after itself.
The “Bike” was the next thing to be sorted. I had been bike commuting at least once a week for ten years, usually on a Friday on my Wife’s day off when she could drop the kids at school or nursery. It was a treat and a weekly dose of oxygen to do so under my own steam.
But it wasn’t “easy”. A sign for sure I was carrying too much timber and with the hills near where I lived- the worst of which was the road to my front door!- I often made it home looking like I was on the verge of a coronary.
I had an old Hybrid I had bought from a big chain sportswear/ outdoor shop. It had served me well for a number of years and in the first instance I switched the nobbly cyclo-cross type tyres off in favour of some slick road tyres. The slight front suspension was a little disconcerting when climbing on the road but it was enough get me moving.
But we were heading into the winter and it made sense to get a Turbo Trainer. A week or two’s trawling and bidding for local based second hand ones on sale on Ebay eventually bore fruit. It was set up in my cellar and I was able to drop my bike onto it and do some rudimentary training on it.
At first it was a case of just making sure I did a few things with consistency- always commute on the bike on a Friday when I could, and when other circumstance allowed for starters. Then do a few longer rides on a weekend and explore the local roads, hills and routes I knew from driving about.
And then add in the odd hour here of an evening and there on the Turbo. Some of it continuous work, at other times doing some rudimentary interval training and see where that took me.
Baby steps for sure but even after a few weeks I started to notice some progress.
As much as I have always valued and loved the ability to run and the feeling of freedom the odds are stacked against me as a distance runner. At six and a half feet tall and north of 17 stone Kipchoge is not shivering at the thought of me lining up on a marathon start line any time soon.
My knees/ lower legs had also endured some serious abuse as a Rugby player and creaked something chronic. I had done quite a bit on weekday lunchtimes a few years previously but had gotten bored and out of the habit.
During that time I had completed a 15km trail challenge race with an old school friend and trained for it and seen the benefits but ultimately reached the limit of my capability or indeed the edges of my limitations. I had also completed the biggest 10km event in my City region and done a sub 53min run. But the pragmatist in me knew that to go sub 50 would entail an effort and commitment an lifestyle change that I possibly didn’t want to make at that time. In short I lost heart and perhaps also driven by work and family stresses gradually stopped running with any regularity.
So with the prospect of doing a bit I joined the local running club which convened on a weekday evening. Running with a group of people is by far and away easier and more motivating than heading out and trudging around on your own.
So I rolled up and headed out with a group running an 8km loop. It was hilly and I was blowing out of every orifice. The legs were aching like mad by the end and the following day I could barely walk down the stairs properly! What had become of me?
And what would I make of the Indoor Triathlon the club arranged and I had entered?
GoTri
GoTri events a short taster races organised as an initiative by British Triathlon- all are welcome, no stress, no pressure, have a go and see if you like it. Its a great idea.
The club I was training with organised an Indoor Autumn/ Winter event- 250m swim, 10km Bike on a Static bike and 2km run on a treadmill. What could go wrong eh? I even conned my Wife to have a go- and she did it. She’ll never admit it but I think she enjoyed it.
Well not alot did go wrong. My legs were still in rigor mortis after a return to road running but apart from that all was good.
But it asked a question and gave me a glimpse of something. I could work at this, improve at it and use the constituent parts as a means to improve my overall health and well-being; both mental an physical.
So there I sat one evening on my living room couch Laptop at the ready…… “F*** it, you only get one go at this. Its for me and no one else, and any achievements that happen are equally so.”
A local Sprint Triathlon in the April was entered along with a major British Triathlon organised event in my home town. Click “Pay Now”. Check. Done.
Bring it on!
The Secret Triathlete 