After a solid bump back down to earth at the Alpe d’Huez triathlon last week I thought putting my thoughts into words might provide me with some means of processing it all and you with some comedy plus maybe a guide to help you on your triathlon journey.
How about some context… despite starting off as a really active child and running cross country at primary school, I didn’t enter my first race until I was 23. I spent most of my youth messing around on a skateboard until I was old enough to buy a car… then it was all about going fast on 4 wheels.
At 22 I knew I needed a challenge and after 9 months in the Royal Marines and two bouts of UK Special Forces selection, I learned three things; I could iron with the best of them, I didn’t want to get told what to do for a living and I loved pushing myself past the limit.
The infamous 984 “Sunshine” Troop – Famous for never getting rained on in the field.
Leaving the Marines was THE biggest shock. After feeling like a piece of steel that could take any weather, any weight and any arduous task on the chin I found myself among a sea of lean, Lycra-clad runners. I had the mistaken belief that after what I’d just been through in the Commando Training Center, Lympstone that I’d be able to “smash all these civvies, no dramas”… The gun went off at the 2009 Monmouth Kymin Dash, a hilly run consisting of a 7 mile loop with one 899ft climb, and these civvies dropped me like a bad habit. I gritted through and finished 24th out of the 150 runners.
One fast civvie….. probably twice my age.
Needless to say, getting smashed by civvies didn’t sit very well with me at all… I began Rocky Balboa-esque training, I wanted to be better, I just didn’t know at what…
My passion for this addiction grew and grew until it started rubbing off on other people. I would use the 899ft Kymin hill climb as a proving ground for any would be training partners. I figured if they have the heart to complete that climb without cracking then they might be fit (or stubborn) enough to make the cut. Little did I know, dragging my best mate Richy Bowen up this climb would give me a great training partner and a fearsome adversary.
Just about holding Richy off at the finish line – May Hill Massacre 2011
We started training at our local gym trying to complete workouts I had devised with making us sick as the general ethos. Leaving the gym we would peer down into the sports hall to watch the local Circuit Training Club muttering “pussies” under our breath. Looking for a change I bit the bullet and joined the Circuit Training club and found a whole new way to bury myself. The day after my first session my body hurt everywhere but I was hooked. It was at circuits that I met Mike Bennett, a coach who turned into a great friend.
Me, Mike & Deano… The Circuit Training tripod at the final session in our old gym
Years passed like this… 3 vomit-inducing batterings at circuits plus the odd run and a race thrown in every now and then. I was strong and fit and I used to see value in being able to race and finish in the top 10% without taking training or my diet very seriously. This is something I regret because I now know there is no value in being a mediocre you when the best you is hiding behind a few more hours of hard work.
2012 Newport Marathon – 2nd Place
When I left the Marines I told myself that I would do an Ironman one day… I thought the Ironman was THE hardest event you could do as a civilian and thought it would be the only thing that could fill the gap the Marines had left… It wasn’t until 3 years later that I got my first chance to taste triathlon.
I had been swimming with my local triathlon club when they attempted to put on a Sprint distance race in Monmouth. This consisted of a 400m pool swim, 15 mile hilly bike and a 3 mile flat run. I signed up straight away.
I knew my swim was by far my weakest discipline, my bike good and my run strong. At this point I had absolutely no concept of pacing and would head out at a completely unsustainable Prefontaine-esque pace and hope to hang on to the finish through the painful lactic acid fueled blur…
Riding my 10kg road bike and wearing Nike Waffle Racers, a broken tri-suit and a race t-shirt from the previous year’s Kymin Dash I set about attacking the course. I went out far too big on the ride but thankfully the course was short enough that it didn’t bite back. I just about held on for the run and thanks to a bit of natural running strength I crossed the line in 11th position, the highest finish of all the Monmouth Triathlon Club members…not bad for my first outing in multi-sport.
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