ON MY AR$E……

Okay lets start at the beginning with a sketch of who our Secret Triathlete is.

I am Forty Something.

I am a man.

I am married and have 2 children.

I am a Professionally Qualified person.

I am educated to Degree Level.

I have represented my Country as an Amateur in another sport which I have been retired from almost 10 years.

I live in the North of England.

So far so good. Although it has to be said our story begins with the main protagonist not in a good place. In the summer of 2017 I was in somewhat of a funk with life; would it be self-indulgent to say I was depressed? Secretly- as men aren’t allowed to admit these things are we- I was, as the title of this post suggests, on my Ar$e!

On the outside all would have appeared well. My career was taking off after a move of employment, my 2 kids were thriving and growing up, my Wife and I paid our mortgage off- he’s doing alright most would have said. But inside I was lost and completely bereft of an answer.

Writing now from a distance I can see far more clearly the source of the symptoms and influencing factors that contributed to this state of mind and its important to list them as for a middle-aged man they are not uncommon. And if it allows others to recognize their own particular stone in their shoe that they can’t quite find then that’s me doing my bit.

So rewind 8 years to 2009…..

I had become a Dad for the first time- Fatherhood doesn’t come with an instruction book.

My 15 year career as an Elite Amateur Rugby player was over

In the midst of the Financial Crisis/ Recession my career seemed in tatters with pay cuts, employment at a failing business and goals going up in smoke before my eyes.

Tough times pass and things move forward. I got a new job at a better business and rebuilt my career. I replaced my Rugby with more time playing Golf which I had played since a kid. And I got to grips with being a Dad and added to the challenge by adding to our brood with another baby some 2 and a bit years later.

But the stone in the shoe remained. I had spent 15 years striving to be the best Rugby player I could be- running, lifting weights, studying the game, learning to love the adrenaline rush of the physical combat that a match presents. I had played for my County of birth and represented my Country in International matches and I suppose walking away from such an investment of time and effort- a labor of love- isn’t easy. If it meant that much to me, which it did, then live a Divorce or separation, it should hurt.

Try as I might the vacuum it left was hard to fill. I played as much Golf as I could and got better- the 18 handicap dropped to 12. But something was still missing.

I did a few middle distance road runs as a physical challenge in addition to still weight training and achieving some notable PB’s- a 237.5Kg Deadlift( 500lbs!!!)….but the fillip was fleeting. And I rode my hybrid bike to and from work as much as work commitments allowed.

I learned to Stand Up Paddle Board, Bodyboard on waves and spent more time playing my guitars but again it felt hollow.

In early 2016 my Wife had a minor mental breakdown too. It was largely caused by work pressures and the stresses of modern life as working parents. We were as a couple always rushing around and it caught up with us. She ended up on medication and had a successful period of CBT counselling and through that time I supported her and a few goals of my own had to be put on hold or not be prepared for as well as the should.

I saw a photo of myself which shocked me- who was that big lump? WTF had I become?

I can see it now. I was the classic Middle-Aged Man mourning his departed past achievements and the things that gave him identity; frustrated by the compromises that Life forces you to make in achieving things and then also beaten down by the pressures of a Professional career and the worries for significant others and their health.

“Is this it?” I asked myself. There wasn’t much laughter or joy on a day to day basis other than in the office I worked in and I was generally at my happiest when I was on my own on the water or the Golf course.

The seed of change though was planted on a brutal day. I had entered a Stand Up Paddle Board race on what seemed a perfect day only for a brutal head wind to develop and what should have been a 2.5 hour activity become a 4.5 hour activity. I wasn’t ready for the conditions and I wasn’t strictly fit enough either having had my preparation wrecked by family commitments.

I had done the race before the year previously when it was run on a “Out and Back” route. This time it was point to point and you couldn’t duck the headwind.

Short story is I finished. I stopped halfway- had a rest, fueled up, took stock and had a word with myself. I would finish and take whatever breaks I needed to do so and in the end made it to the finish on that protocol.

Battered but not beaten I came away chastened and determined to reflect and learn some lessons. I had a moment where felt past it and a shadow of my former self and was ashamed of what I had become as a man, but I clambered out of the dark place by triumphing in not running away or giving up. There was some bloody-minded grit left in me after all.

There was a foundation I could build from. But what to build?

My only focus was to face my next challenge a few months away in better shape. MY Wife had entered me into a #SUPBikeRun event in the Midlands. Essentially it was a Tri-athlon whereby the Swim was replaced by a SUP leg and the bike leg was a MTB circuit followed by a trail run.

The SUP was going to be a cinch, the MTB leg equally so, the run a challenge as at this point I realized I hadn’t really run any distance with any regularity in about 2 years. I could see the date looming off in the distance and fresh from my humbling I knew I needed to take action and my mind started to come up with some ideas.

The critical juncture happened when I was talking to a good friend on a Golf Day and he was eulogizing about getting into his swimming through a Triathlon club run by another friend of his. “You did loads of swimming when you were a lad didn’t you? You should head down and try it out,” he said.

And there it was…….we forget the things we took joy from. Before I was a Rugby player I was a Swimmer. And whilst I wasn’t International Class, I swam for my City when I was a Teenager for 6 years, training 5 times a week and competing many weekends throughout the year. Throw me in a pool and I could still knock out 100m of Freestyle to make anyone realize I knew how to swim better than most. I had been doing some on my own too on week night evenings in the Winter although not with any great regularity. I needed to get fitter and nothing gets you aerobically fit as swimming- particularly when you are in a lane of other competitive sods to chase or be at your toes chasing you.

So I drafted an email to the Coach and pressed send in trepidation. Little did I know what was about to begin.