The Sailing Challenge: Training on Pricey Waters

Less than 36 hours after popping cartilage in my chest whilst training for The Wrestling Challenge, I awoke before my alarm due to excitement for the days that lay ahead; this morning I'd be off to Chichester for a 2 day voyage of discovery, in training for The Sailing Challenge.

OK so the 3 hour drive South West to arrive in Chichester may have somewhat cooled off my excitement, especially seeing as it was cold, damp and I knew that more rest for my chest injury was far from what was on the menu. But the sight of Marbella, Coach Taylor's boat, tied to the jetty was enough to reinvigorate my desire to learn more about sailing.

Marbella

Coach Taylor had been busy in the day's leading up to our trip preparing his 26ft sailing yacht and I was surprised to find that mending the boats engine had been a part of this prep; I'd never thought a vessel of this type would have an engine - how little of sailing I knew.

We set off after around an hour, when the waters were judged to be high enough for us to safely coast out of the harbour. The engine purred noisily as we set off on calm waters.

Almost immediately, it started to rain

While the waters and the wind remained frustratingly calm on our outward journey, the rain started to fall almost as soon as Coach Taylor set about unfurling the main sail, and didn't stop till we'd reached our destination for the day.

The journey to Cowes in the Isle of Wight took us around 4 hours, the wind remained too low for practising manoeuvres though I enjoyed some time at the helm, watching the tell-tales (small ribbons attached to the front sail which indicate how you're tracking in the wind) and operating the tiller to manage our direction.

On the route we passed between two giant man-made 'forts', designed to house guns and act as defence posts against attacks in the World Wars; one of which was now derelict, the other oddly now an expensive hotel - apparently you can hire the whole place for just £8000 per night.

As we neared our destination for the evening, Coach Taylor booked us a mooring on the radio and I steered the boat, now back on its engine, towards our allocated space.

As we removed those soaked outer layers and prepared for a well-earned pint, the sun finally managed to elbow its way through the clouds, typical.

Bringing more than just a touch of Marbella to the Isle of Wight

I've been to the Isle of Wight a few times before but never to Cowes, which seems to do a pretty good job encapsulating all that's good about the place; enough drinking holes to drown most of the fish in the English Channel and more than enough shops to fill even the largest of attics with unwanted souvenirs.

The rich association with the surrounding waters is celebrated in most drinking establishments, of which Mark took me to a good handful (breaking the crawl briefly for a hearty dinner), though none more vividly than final destination which featured not only photos of Cowes many visiting boats and ships but part of one of the most famous vessels ever to race on open waters - The Kings Yacht, Britannia.

The image above shows the plaque on the Gaff Spar from this historic royal racing yacht, the length of which hung from the ceiling and travelled the full length of the pub. This one section would have originally sat above the main sail (atop the large sail on the right of the ship - see image of a model below).

A model of the original Britannia

This amazing racing yacht was built in 1893 for Albert, Prince of Wales, and was passed down to his son King George V whom after years of racing, decided that his dying wish was for the ship to follow him to the grave - the vessel was sunk by St. Catherine's Deep on 10th July 1036, the exact location remains unknown.

Thankfully the gaff spar was somehow retrieved and now makes for a wonderful pub ornament.

Waking up closely 'encased' on three sides by thick wood is not the most pleasant way to start your Sunday, but once I'd realised I wasn't being gawped at by weeping relatives I manoeuvred my aching body into the smallest rest room imaginable and emptied my internal water bottle.

Upon seeing we were now both awake, the rain clouds pushed the sun out of the way and gave a wet welcome to the day. This welcome intensified throughout our return journey and with it came strong winds and rolling waves.

On the journey back I was gifted a lesson in real helmsmanship; the wind and rain battered our sails and ourselves above the water line, while the wind and the tide conspired to push wave after rolling wave right at us, and all the while I had the tiller. The 26ft long yacht was moved around like a toy duck  in a busy swimming pool.

Many times I found myself leaning at around 45 degrees, while trying to maintain balance and having to push the tiller away from me. Imagine a surfboard travelling along on its left side while you try to sit sideways, with your legs flat across the back, your feet are nearly in the water on the left of the board and you're having to lean towards your toes in order to turn the board towards the right. Now, imagine doing this while the 'surfboard' is leaping up ten feet in the air and then back down ten feet, all within a few seconds, and this happens non-stop for 4 hours!!!

It's making me feel sea sick writing about it but somehow I was fine and loving the thrill on the day, albeit with busted ribs.

Coach Taylor & The (weather worn) Everyman Olympian

Thankfully on that return leg along the world's most expensive strip of water (the Solent), Coach Taylor managed to judge a few good times for me to practise tacking the yacht; an experience I'll never forget.

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!

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 100km Challenge

At some point one Sunday, a few weeks back, I had a rather silly idea pop into my head, not for the first time would I suggest a challenge to myself which would see me testing my body to the max for seemingly no point whatsoever...

I was preparing for a few days away for work and I knew I'd be spending the majority of my time with my face illuminated by laptop light, my only realistic escape being the rather machine-cluttlered hotel gym.

From seemingly nowhere the thought of 'travelling' 100km in four days entered my head and me being me I decided to accept my own silly challenge just to give me an excuse to venture outside my own room - I'd be unable to partake directly in any of the sports I had left to tackle at this point and figured the added task would do me good.

Day 1

I started like a lightning bolt out of the blocks on the first day:

EveryOlympian Butt's sore from naff saddle on the bike in this hotel gym but bagged 40km on Day 1 of my 4 day 100km Challenge, 20km Run & 40km Cycle to go

This tweet tells you all you need; I was fired up and being cocky on the adrenalin...my apologies, it gets me that way sometimes.

Day 2

Unsurprisingly, since I had barely ridden a real bike this past few months, let alone an exercise machine version with an uncomfortably wide saddle, I was unable to be as agressive on the morning of the second day:

EveryOlympian Legs let me down on the treadmill at 5km this morning, but made up for it with 10km cycle so pushed over the half way line #100kmChallenge

This plagued me mentally all day - as I'd stated earlier my intention was to cycle 80km and run the other 20, but rather than whallow in my morning's 'defeat' I headed back to the house of pain for a second stint that evening...

EveryOlympian Headed back to the gym after work and battled through a further 30km cycle, now 85km into the #100kmChallenge Just 15km run & 2 days to go

Now I was showing them!
 
Day 3
 
My legs were in tatters; aching whether I sat, walked or stood - stairs laughed at me as I advanced on them like a drunken cowboy who'd lost his horse.
 
Thankfully this was to be a crazy busy work day which called for me to start before 6am and keep going till gone ten pm - I'd worked right through the opening hours of the gym. Shame.
 
Day 4
 
Again I was short on time due to work that morning but I did manage to go through with a short run to clock up another 5km, I was just 10km and one gym session away from achieving my goal.
 
The telly nearly got me...
 

EveryOlympian 10 more mins of Crocadile Dundee 2 and I've gotta go battle the final 10km of this 100km challenge #The100kmChallenge

But I prevailed, only to be cocky on my bodies own chemical kick once again:
 

EveryOlympian 100km Challenge achieved...report by Sat eve to you tweeps

OK so this is three weeks late but hey I did still nail the 100km Challenge!
 
Why not set your own version up? Just calculate a tough training schedule that gets you to 100km - now make it a tad harder - and use any form of movement you feel confortable with. Good luck and let me know how your get on: theeverymanolympian@googlemail.com

Equestrian Challenge Training, Day 1 to Trojan

Yestereve I rolled up at Wildwoods Riding Centre in leafy Tadworth (Surrey), there were youngsters learning to canter on real live horses but for me on Day 1 of training there was a metallic beastie awaiting me called the Trojan.

The best riding school I've ever known.

Sue welcomed me in and outlined the facts of my contract, and before I signed she made sure I was aware that real horses have their own minds and the chances of having a fall were high, 'Everyone does' she said - I loved her manner, no nonsense and really warm at the same time.

Training: Week #54ish

After a 4 mile run around my brother's home village of Hook in leafy Hampshire the evening before, I was feeling chirpy though slightly anxious as I set off in the car with said brother to start my training for The Judo Challenge.

Saturday 26th February

I'd managed to meet Coach Skillcorn the week before and he'd assured me that I wouldn't simply be used like a rag doll into the dojo (the name of the room where you practice Judo is the same the world over).

My little/older/wiser/marathon running/brother had come along to take some photos and possibly drive the car back if I was a broken man at the end.

The hour long session started with exercise drills that would later prove to incorporate actual Judo techniques - I hadn't realised at the time I was sliding along on the mats that I was already starting on my path to Judo mediocrity.

Sweating from the warm up drills I then began to learn basic Ne Waza (kneeling techniques) and Osae Komi Waza (holding down techniques) before moving on to escaping methods, Kensestu Waza (arm locks) and Shime Waza (strangles and chokes)...there Waza lot to remember! (apologies Coach).

Coach Skillcorn shows me how to taste my own Adam's Apple

I'd started training for Sport 13 and found another one I instantly liked!

Sunday 27th

Coach Skillcorn had kindly emailed me some training tips which I could do away from the dojo and in the hotel gym as I was away all week, so that eve I was back on a rowing machine for the first time in a while.

Set to Level 7, I did 10 1 minute splits: 1 minute hard rowing, followed by 1 minute going slow x10.

I maxed out at 340 watts on the first minute and struggled to hit 250 watts regularly on the 10th set - this was before I found the Average Watts setting.

The idea of recording the watts was to gauge stamina - the aim being to maintain similar levels throughout the rowing session, clearly I had work to do.

Afterwards I got on the cross trainer for a bit, then hit the showers.

Monday 28th

In the evening I joined my workmates for 5-a-side footie, had a cracking hour (literally - shins clashed with my closest colleague, bruised bones) and managed to score a goal - I'm no player as my mates will testify so I was over the moon.

Tuesday 1st March

On the treadmill early bells and managed to get a new PB for 3 miles before work, 26:26 - not rapid I know but as a fat lad I was chuffed!

Personal Best's don't always look pretty!

In the evening after work I headed back to the gym and repeated my rowing training for Judo, this time I used the average watts setting and managed 257watts on my first set, 191 watts on my 10th at Level 7.

Wednesday 2nd

My tweet after the morning session in the gym said it all:

'Could only manage 2 miles in 18,24 today...shins, calves, knees, toes - all aching with different pains. Gutted'

In the evening I drove to Wrexham to meet Coach Morris to begin The Shooting Challenge...

The hospitality of Coach Morris & his wife Karen was so welcoming and a real treat after nights alone in my hotel, I felt very humbled in the presence of two such prominent folk in the world of Shooting.

During my first lesson I was shown the precious, hand crafted guns used for this technical event, had my handle shaped to suit my hand (amazingly they are made of wood!), discovered I would be able to use the very gun Coach Morris himself hopes to use in the Commonwealth Games 2014 - how generous and cool is that!! - and all the while I wore the shooting frames to enable me a chance to get used to only using my shooting eye.

My 1st Shooting lesson with Coach Morris

2 and a half hours later I left with the confidence that we could do this, I had homework and a method of mimicking the shooting frames - game on!

Thursday 3rd

A morning visit to the hotel pool to test out whether 20 years away from front crawl (freestyle) had taken their toll didn't go so well - the pool was more suited to leisurely souls and too busy to really get any lessons learned, so I opted for 20 mins in the sauna instead.

Feeling disgruntled with my last 2 gym visits I was determined to improve on my rowing, so I upped the difficulty to Level 10 and the attitude paid off: I managed an average of 235 watts in Set 1 and finished Set 10 with an average of 221 watts.

Friday 4th

I looked down at the clock as I hit the 3 mile mark on the treadmill, I'd felt like poop for the last ten minutes but a smile broke out when I saw I'm equalled my PB of 26:26.

Happy Days