The Wrestling Challenge - Training Day 1

With a trip to the land that invented burgers and dunkin' doughnuts on the cards for the week ahead I knew I'd need to top up on sports activities to remind my body that I've still got a long way to go in the quest of The Everyman Olympics, so this morning before work I went for the now customary 10k coastal run and this evening's choice of physical education? Well what be better than a spot of friendly Wrestling...

I'd learned of South Essex Wrestling at Elite Fitness in Rochford, Essex, through my pal Chris and when I emailed them to see if I could come along to learn, train and fight for The Wrestling Challenge, Coach John Rushton was straight back to me with an invite to come along one Friday evening to get involved.

When I arrived the session had already began so I found a space on the matted floor and followed the stretching exercises as delivered by the man I now know as Coach Hales, another John - round these parts they make their John's pretty sturdy.

Coach Rushton & Coach Hales - solid John's.

Both Coach Rushton & Coach Hales made me feel really welcome and wasted no time in getting me involved; they demonstrated a technique which the class studied a few times, then we partnered up and practised the move.

The fella I was matched with had been doing the sport a while and helped me to learn each exercise, we took turns leading the moves; after a good number of goes the coaches would show another technique and we'd go back to the mat to try them out.

Next up was a submission section, while the rest of class did this I was taught more in line with the Olympic methods; no submissions, with bouts ending in victory by pinning both an opponents shoulders onto the floor at the same time, or by collecting points. Both coaches granted me time to train one-on-one with them, and I also partnered up for the three minute sessions with various other fighters, all of whom helped me learn and try new techniques...all of them were built like rugby players.

By the end of the session I was covered in sweat, and yet some of the others opted to have extra fights...

The chap against the wall here must of had 4 additional bouts...dude loves a scrap.

If you fancy getting involved in Wrestling you can learn more about South Essex Wrestling or other Wrestling clubs here.

This is a workout like Judo, you're using body weight, brains, strength and stamina - if I could train like this in the States next week I could eat like the locals!

The Beach Volleyball Challenge: Your Invitation





The Everyman Olympian invites YOU to take part in The Beach Volleyball Challenge!

Saturday 12th May, 10:30am - 3:30pm-ish

Ocean Beach, Eastern Esplanade, Southend-on-Sea, UK

There'll be plenty of this!

and a few of these!

Location Map (click the image to take you to Google Maps):

Come in Beachwear and bring footwear you don't mind getting dirty - it's a pebbly beach!

There are stores and parking nearby, though feel free to bring your own food and refreshments

Just tidy up after yourselves OK.

Saturday May 12th at 10:30am

 The Beach Volleyball Challenge,See you there,

The Everyman Olympian

Tri-ing Times

Somehow the pain of last week didn't put my pal Glen off of joining me for more training for The Triathlon Challenge, and this time I managed to sneak yet another Swimming lesson into the mix.

Coach Passingham & The Everyman Olympian looking fresh at the start of Triathlon Training

This time around we opted to cycle half of the 24 miles required on the bikes to get to the pool, then I gained more swimming tips from Coach Passingham before we completed 1000m swims and got back on the bikes for more tarmac time.

The Everyman Olympian looking surprisingly fresh after 12 mile cycle and 1000m swim

Perhaps we gained our first sample of swimming outdoors today - the pool at LA Fitness in Shoeburyness was clearly in need of a clean; the deep end resembled a submerged tip.

Back at my pad we ditched the bikes and set off for the run, but not before I taped up my nipples...

Last time out my nipples bled on the run

This time around I was taking no chances...on went the plasters before the run.

I'd been for a birthday breakfast for my pal Johnny and during the conversation I'd been tipped off by my mate Emma that vertically taped plasters where best to stop nipple chaffing - as you'll see I opted for a horizontal vs vertical experiment to see which was best. When I returned home I found that both plasters had fallen off on the route!

Having also been for a swimming lesson the day before with Coach Nicky my legs and lower back were already feeling it in the morning, and while the cycle and swim had warmed my muscles up oh boy did the run bring all those aches and pains to a throbbing crescendo; on each uphill motion the muscles on my outer thighs yelled for me to stop but I near-silently battled on.

Glen by contrast was shouting at himself between the grunting, like an army sergeant and a rookie mixed into one he was the motivator and the motivated.

This time when we got to Glen's pad I convinced him to continue on to my own, I think the mention that I'd be going three quarters of a mile further struck a competitive cord.

Swimming, cycling and running like this is very much a personal challenge, knowing there'd be a few hundred yards downhill to my flat I opted to squeeze the last ounces of energy and effectively sprinted to the finish line - I've got to say, while writing this this morning my legs are still not talking to me.

Big Fish

I've mentioned before how I used to be like a little fish in my pre-teens, how my ol'dear used to take my brother and I for swimming lessons and how I'd quickly covered my dodgy trunks in ribbons and badges which hailed my progress...but oh how times have changed, and while my bro still remarks on how good I am at mimicking sea life in water, I sadly now admit that I now more closely resemble hippos than salmon.

I'm a proud man, but not a stupid one, so when it came to facing a 1500 metre open water swim for The Triathlon Challenge, I enlisted the help of two dear friends to teach me all they know about freestyle and that stroke that all young lads giggle when saying the name out loud...

Coach Passingham, as I've already posted, began taking lessons just to get involved in The Triathlon Challenge and has kindly started showing me what he's learnt during the hours he's had so far through private tuition. My other coach is sized and shaped almost exactly like one of my original swimming teachers from back in the day - only Mrs Nicky Mansell doesn't stroll along the poolside barking orders at me like a sergeant major with chipped shoulder.

After work yesterday I met the beautifully pint-sized Coach Nicky and the rest of Family Mansell at the kind of establishment I'd originally set out to avoid, a David Lloyd health and fitness club. I've got to say I was pleasantly surprised, while yes there were many an orange lady dressed as if going out for a night on the town, and yes there were also men who looked more preened than a royal cat, there were actually some genuine, exercise enthusiasts in the mix too.

Coach Nicky & The Everyman Olympian dodge the orange folk at David Lloyd Basildon for a pic by the outdoor pool

Coach Nicky's husband (and close personal friend of mine) Darren took energetic son James off to play tennis on one of the carpeted courts while my teacher and I were escorted by her daughter Felicity (or Flick as she's affectionately known) to the pool.

Unfortunately there were two down sides to the timing of our visit: firstly the outdoor pool was out of bounds due to a heating system failure and secondly, the men's showers were off limits due to refurbishment, all-in-all this actually made the place seem more regular and for my mind it even seemed more endearing for it's faults subdued the otherwise over-shiny gloss.

In the pool, Coach Nicky wasted no time in assessing the state of my front crawl and immediately set about giving me tasks to focus on the different elements I was struggling with, we worked on my breaststroke in tandem, a method which allowed me to have a breather while keeping me active.

For well over an hour I was analysed, set back to work and re-analysed, until eventually I'd near mastered the breast and had improved my freestyle to the point of exhaustion. I thoroughly enjoyed the lesson, Nicky's extensive teaching skills (she's an excellent teacher on the governments payroll when away from the pool) were just the tonic, and I even managed to beat a 9 year old in a race too! Though I'm sure Flick was going easy.

1000 metres later I was given the homework of restarting yoga to help with my breathing and Coach Nicky once more remarked that I must 'become as long as I can in the water'.

Afterwards on her Facebook page, Coach placed this update: 'teaching Boris to channel his inner Michael Phelps. Such fun!'

I can't wait for my next swimming lesson, I want to become a big fish!

PS I'd also like to give a mention to excellent local swimwear specialist retailer The Goggle Box, who earlier in the day provided excellent service when selling me some new Speedo goggles and swim shorts, cheers!

Take...One...Doh!

Yestereve I left the comfy surroundings of my folks house where I was visiting for a catch up (and not dropping in on the way to more sport for a free dinner ; ) and headed to a sports centre which used to be named after local sporting hero Terry Marsh to learn 'the way of the hand and the foot', or Taekwondo to you and I.

Terry Marsh: former Undisputed IBF Light Welterweight World Champion

As it turns out my pal Adam already trains with the Essex Tae kwon Do Academy, the local club run by Mr Gordon Slater - 6th dan black belt.

Coach Slater had given me the opportunity to come and train with the club of one of their locally run nights and I'd learned of Adam's link over a very nice meal for our mutual friend, Kells Bells.

Gordon Slater: Taekwondo 6th Dan Black Belt vs The Great Wall of China
(I know who my money's on...and it's not visible from the moon).

The session began with a game designed to warm us up while we competed in two teams, working against each other to score by landing a small squidgy call onto our opponents crash mat / 'goal'. Because I was wearing dark colours I got to be on the Black Belts team, we smashed them!

With the blood flowing nicely we took in water and regrouped in rows to face our sensei and learn of the plans for the evenings lesson. While the regulars took to mini bouts, another newbie and I were taught in the ways of the very basics by 3rd dan Chris; a really good teacher who effortlessly taught us while showing his clear love for the sport which he'd already dedicated nine years to.

We learned some of the many customs intrinsic to this much disciplined and polite of martial arts, how to do basic blocks, how to walk while blocking, basic punches and how to turn. My tuition for The Judo Challenge came in very handy and I honestly feel it'll help at least to begin with (thanks again Coach Skillcorn).

I also learned how to create 'the all seeing hand' - a way in which to finish a block (and I'm sure other moves I've yet to learn) which leaves one hand on your side, clenched in a fist and placed far enough forward to be usefully positioned for whatever your opponent throws at you next.

After our very private tuition we joined Coach Gordon to watch on while the more advanced members (everyone else) had a brief spar with each other, it was then that I learned my fellow newbie was attending to rebuild confidence after suffering a horrific attack by eight men which resulted on him requiring titanium plates in his cheek and forehead; how sad that folk need to virtually kill a man who's merely asking for them not to verbally abuse a friend while on a night out.

We then got to learn our sparring in Taekwondo began: we started by taking three kicks while advancing on an opponent, before they retaliated with a few moves, then this was repeated while switching roles, the kicks were reduced down to one each before the intermittent breaks were taken away and we found ourselves lightly sparring.

A final game squidgy 'handball' to warm-down and my first lesson was over. I'm not ready to spar with anyone with a Dan in their family let alone on their belt, but Ill get there!

Tri-harder

Somewhere in the 'chilled' haze of the sauna room after my first swimming lesson on Saturday, I managed to convince Coach Passingham to come along from the cycling leg of The Triathlon Challenge training session I had planned for the next morning, I think my next lesson might be slightly harder now...

At 7am on Sunday 7th April we met in the car park by Glen's pad and set off on a 24 mile cycle - effectively matching the 40km that is required for the full Olympic distance Triathlon. The weather was over cast and within the first 10 miles the rain had began.

Swimming Coach Passingham before the day's Tri Training

We headed East, down through Westcliffe and Southend to Shoeburyness where we headed off the coast and inland, joining the A127 and heading along this often busy road to Raleigh, where we rolled across to Hadleigh (the location for the London 2012 Mountain Bike event) and back through Leigh-on-Sea.

At around 14 miles I tried to manoeuvre my road bike back onto a cycle path when my back wheel spun from under me on the wet road; first my left knee, then left elbow smashed onto ground, then the weight of my right leg forced my saddle into my inner left thigh - I wasn't letting this ruin our morning mind, I hopped straight back up, quickly checked my bike and gave the thumbs up to Glen to pedal on.

More injuries for The Everyman Olympian

Somehow, despite the rain falling like we being followed by a waterfall, I'd managed to convince Glen to join me for the at least the first mile of the run so we looped back back his to collect his trainers before finishing the cycle 'leg' back at my flat.

A quick change of footwear and we were jogging down to the coastal path to begin the 6 mile run - Glen continued to listen to his iPod, which to be fair was ideal for me as I find talking whilst running ruins my breathing pattern.

The run was fairly uneventful accept for the chap we passed shortly before parting company; as we came into Westcliffe there was this chap who looked like Hitler would have if he'd have made his seventies - he was wearing a long camel coloured coast, a red armband and had a overgrown narrow moustache. As we passed we said good morning to two bobbies who were stood chatting to another guy by the roadside. I think we were all a little shocked by the guys appearance.

My last mile wound steadily up hill and while this was painful enough I also have the off sensation of rather sore nipples, here's what I discovered when I removed my fleece after the ordeal was finally over:

What Triathlon training will do to a man.

Guess for next time some nipple plasters are required...

The Triathlon Challenge - Swimming Lesson 1: Sink or Swim

I've mentioned before that as I child I was part fish, right? Well, take it from me, when I hit the pool up to around the age of 13 I could coast through the water like a pal of Nemo's and no mistake.

Like most kids in the UK however, when I hit my teens I became of obsessed with trying to appear older and swapped pools for fields with shelters where we could drink cheap booze which we'd waited hours to pluck up the courage to attempt to buy...how very mature we were!

In my ambitions thus far to ready myself for The Triathlon Challenge I'd focused mainly on gaining time back in the saddle, and more recently I'd bolted running onto the end of this cycling session at a ratio a quarter run per cycle; the equivalent to the Olympic Triathlon quota. I'd shied away from tackling my now weak Freestyle stroke by opting for the 'easy' legs of the Tri task.

Knowing that I'd lost all confidence in my front crawl, I sought help from my mate Mr Glen Passingham, a chap whom I may have mentioned before looks like telly's Louis Spence, the gay world's latest champion.



The real Louis Spence

We arrived at the rather inappropriately named LA Fitness in Thorpe Bay before noon and on entering the pool Glen fetched 2 floats and 2 long foam tubes called Noodles which we tied knots into, these items would act as buoyancy aids for the lesson. Well they would have until a rather selfish member of the staff come and reclaimed her precious floats because they were hers and she didn't want us to use them; clearly we had the look of float thieves and two chaps who'd come to the pool to swim, despite our best efforts (I have to mention that the rest of the staff were as friendly as you could hope for, compete with smiles and all).

Floatless, my instructor began the lesson with a four-stroke warm-up; I opted for two breast, one poor crawl and one backstroke, on the latter I crashed into my pal.

Glen had recently started swimming lesson himself on the back of accepting my request for some company for The Triathlon Challenge, and generously offered to pass on his new found knowledge to me as I'd struggled to arrange lessons myself. He set exercises where I use a noodle in front of me while I focused on kicking, breathing and using alternate arms.

Fitness-wise I felt fine, though I kept taking in too much water and because of poor timing I'd regularly have to force myself up for air mid-stroke, though by the end of the lesson I felt I had a better grasp of the basics of Freestyle and for the final quarter I was free to put all of my fresh learning's into practise while Coach Passingham clocked up some lengths in the lane beside me.

After the swim we chatted in the sauna for a while before chilling pool side after cooling off, and then used the shower facilities back in the changing rooms, it was only when emerging from separate cubicles to the sound of The Communards 'Don't Leave Me This Way' over the club's internal sound system that I realised what a very Louis Spence afternoon we'd had.

Coach Passingham outside LA Fitness...in Thorpe Bay (Please note: this is NOT Louis Spence).

My advice kids is stay in the pool, age will come to you soon enough.

Keep paddling,

The Everyman Olympian