The Triathlon Challenge: Born to Tri?

Just 22 days after restarting training for The Triathlon Challenge, having recovered 90% from my Wrestling injury (pulled ribs) I stood next to my mate Clive...both vacuum-packed in rubber, as we waited to start the Gosfield Lake Triathlon.

The (very bearded) Everyman Olympian looking apprehensive as Clive talks him through the swim route.

My thanks to Coach Harman and Born2Tri for their generous help in making my dream of completing an Olympic distance triathlon a reality - I can't recommend them enough, they're top folk!

As by body warmed the water in my wetsuit I positioned myself towards the back of the second draft of swimmers, wished Clive good luck and we were started off on our epic journey: a 1500m swim, 40km cycle and 10km run, back-to-back-to-back.

You can just make out my swimming cap, bottom centre

I'll not lie, the swim was a struggle to begin with; I couldn't establish a rhythm and I kept veering off in all sorts of directions. But then I regained my cool, remembered Coach Harman's wise words from the week before and finally managed to calm the nerves of the fellow beardy man who was paddling his canoe next to me to ensure I wasn't in serious trouble.

Exiting the water, I felt disorientated and drained; nearly falling over on the floating walkway out of the lake. Transition 1 didn't bring much confidence either, especially when I managed to make two small tears in the right calf area of the head organisers wetsuit (my apologies once again Coach Harman!).

Houdini could have escaped from the wetsuit better

Being lapped by elite athletes wearing flashy velodrome-style helmets on bikes I cannot afford is a bit like being beaten while playing your A game in a Wimbledon final by Roger Federer, there's no shame in it; this actually happened to Britain's own Andy Murray on the afternoon after The Triathlon Challenge.

The Everyman Olympian wins the race between these two orange signs

While I felt bad for the chap I passed who was walking his bike home and wouldn't finish the race, I had my sights set beating at least one active participant.

Towards the end of my first lap I passed No.91 but coming into my second 20km lap I was passed by No.119, whom I managed to keep within my eye-line throughout the remainder of the cycle; I found having this visual marker a real motivator.

We were each handed a time chip on a strap at the start of the race, which we had to wear to gain our results, but I gather No.91's chip hadn't been working as he's now on the born2tri site results page as DNS (did not start); I really feel for the guy. No.119 would beat me by 16 minutes but he probably helped get a better time in my cycling leg.

Transition 2 proved another disaster; with the bike a clear marker in the racks when I'd left the pool on transition 1 I had no qualms in finding my gear, but looking for a black towel amongst loads of black wetsuits was a nightmare - I must have lost 2 whole minutes in the search (while changing tops for a running tee must have cost me more)...lesson learned, never use a black towel in a triathlon!

Oddly enough I knew I had enough reserves to make the 10k run as I left on the final leg, so I tracked onto a man wearing a green sleeveless top - this man would become known as the Green Man as I used him as my pacemaker on the first lap of the run.

The Everyman Olympian sets off on the third section of the Gosfield Lake Triathlon 2012

The Green Man and I were quickly overtaken by a guy on his final lap, like myself he'd changed his top from the cycle and now I could see his race number (worn on the back for the cycle and front for the run as a minimum standard - we even had UK Triathlon Officials present so we had to abide by the rules).

We ran through farmer's fields, along broken private roads, muddy triathlete-created paths through corn fields and squelchy routes among trees before a short public road section to begin our second and final lap.

All the while I'd tracked the Green Man but just after we'd passed two female competitors he veered sidewards and stopped, seemingly to re-tie a trainer lace. I grabbed my opportunity and picked up the pace, the race to the finish line was on!

Back onto tarmac increased my pace again, maintaining a lead but not sure by how much. The last race official was busy chatting to cyclist pals, 'which way mate?' I interrupted, and he directed me towards a final field, thickly covered in waist-high corn. 'That's right mate' he hollered after me, but he clearly didn't see I'd entered at the wrong point - I now had sights on a chap just ahead of me but I knew the Green Man must not be far behind.

The only sign for runners nearby was set a ways into the field and hadn't helped me enter correctly, realising I'd made a wrong move a grey haired lady stood in the final low-grassed field shouted that I should cut through. The guy ahead built an unassailable advantage as I waded through the poor farmers crop.

Unbeknown to me, the Green Man has passed my brother who was taking photos by the last official and puffed 'I'm going to catch him now!'...but he too entered the corn field where I had and also lost time making a path for himself.

I cleared the crops and burst onto the final few hundred yards of grass, my legs burning and just a final route around a bright post to muster, crossing the finish line to hear my name announced by the race compare, followed by 'The Everyman Olympian...well done you've crossed Triathlon of the list...good luck with Synchronised Swimming.'

As I stood regaining my breath after a victory kiss with my missus, my father asked, 'Do you want some water, son?', 'Yes' I blew, 'They're just over there' he said - thanks dad!

Clive and The Everyman Olympian...we nailed it!

Huge thanks to the Born2Tri team and Coach Harman for the opportunity to attempt The Triathlon Challenge. I think I've found a sport I'll be coming back to!

PS Guess what pub we ended up going to for a Sunday roast after the race?...

Triathlon Training - Lake Swimming

As a salesman I enjoy the challenge of convincing a customer to change their opinion of something to our mutually positive advantage, this week I had what I thought was the hardest sale ever, for The Everyman Olympics, but it turned out oh so much easier than I first thought...

Try selling this concept to a friend who holds the weekend dear, as a 48 hour party-thon:

Set your alarm for 5:20am this Sunday, I'll pick you up at 6 and we'll go to a lake an hour away for a long swim.

My mate Glen had been up for training for The Cycling Challenge, and had joined me on what turned out to be the same distances as the Olympic Triathlon; 1500m swim in warm pool waters, 40 cycling along a glorious coastline and 10k running along the very same glorious coastal route, though these efforts had always been at sociable times of the day which didn't hamper his apetite for booze and tech house music.

So I was pretty shocked when he signed up to the idea in about 5 seconds flat. However, on arriving at Gosfield Lake Glen was less than enthusiastic;

Glen: 'Think I'll stay in the car and watch from here'. 7:15am Sunday 1st July

Mark Harman has been running Born2Tri for three years, and when we met him you could clearly see that he was a triathlete of good experience. We paid thr £5 fee to swim in the lake and then each replaced a band with our name from the band board; a simple yet effected method for the organisers to know whether they're missing anyone at the end of their slot.

A fellow swimmer writes his name on the band board before entering Gosfield Lake

Kitted out in wetsuits, swimming hats and goggles, we entered the lake; which was surprisingly warm and shallow, in fact at almost any point in the lake, a man of say 6 feet tall could easily stand on its muddy bed, with head and shoulders out of the water. Good job I fit that description as I was huffing and puffing from the outset, this was going to be a tough ask.

A short swim out to the first buoy and Coach Harman began to assess our swimming abilities and give tips and advice for lake swimming, and next week's event (more on how to come along shortly).

Effectively the route on the day would zig zag from one end of the lake, to the other, with a kick back point taking swimmers around a water-ski jump and back up to a grassy landing, where transitions to bikes would take place on a grassy bank.

We swam small sections of the route, probably totalling a quarter of the course. Each time we stopped, Coach Harman with add a helpful tip for orientation or technique for breathing. The finishing leg was longer and by now we were able to swim longer and with more confidence in our bearings.

I felt like my lungs had more of a workout than my legs, as at each stage I was gasping for air; the main thing for me to remember on the day is not to rush and to keep checking my movement. As Coach Harman says 'there is no time limit in the lake and the whole event will take around three and a half hours, you don't want to tire yourself out on the swim'.

Coach Harman, The Everyman Olympian, and a cup of hot chocolate beside Gosfield Lake

If you're interested in coming to the event, then here is a link to the location on the Gosfield Park Lake Resort Webiste:

http://www.gosfieldlake.co.uk/contactus.html

If you live close enough to Braintree in Essex, then Born2Tri will happily welcome you with open arms, they also offer training for cycling and running too, for all levels of experience. Here's a link to their site:

http://www.born2tri.com/wordpress/?p=3

Hope to see you on Sunday 8th July from 8am at Gosfield Lake, I really could do with the support!

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!

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

Tri-hard

Yesterday morning began much like any other March morn on the South East coast; the sun rose up from the eastern depths of the River Thames to illuminate the pebbly beach, cast shadows behind the cockle sheds and blind those who'd left their curtains just a tad too far from being properly closed.

I work with a hunger in my belly and the feeling that my legs just wouldn't settle for walking pace to start their day, so I spun on a hob, panned-up my porridge and dug out my lycra - this morning my training for The Triathlon Challenge would commence, all going well with a 40km cycle.

Omens maybe were going against me when I had to lift my Claud Butler over my neighbours car to get to the road but I wasn't prepared to listen to them on such a gloriously sunny and yet crisp beginning to a Mothering Sunday.

After a week away from the feeling of pedalling roadside I was eager to get on, though my gears where doing that annoying half-change thing where they seem to whir disappointment and refused to completely click into place, infact just as I was rounding the corner to begin my assent of Essex Way they flatly refused to skip into the entire higher set; leaving me attempting this arduous gradual climb without my roadbike's inbuilt technical benefits.

Hacked off and hacking up my porridge I made the decision at the top to cut short my mornings bike ride and instead opted to begin learning the tough switch between cycling and running - at 12 miles I dropped by wheels safely back under lock and key and headed out for a 3 mile jog.

That first mile I felt like I was running against the tide in the mouth of the Thames itself, from the waist down I swore my body had doubled in weight and halved in height; even old folk were looking over at me willing me to get a wiggle on, it was like running in quick sand.

I named this tale Tri-hard but the reality is that I've got a heck of a lot of training to go through before I'll even be able to complete this back-to-back-to-back three-sport challenge AND I'm still searching for a way to tackle it - if you know anyone who can help, please get in touch. Tri-hard? I need to Tri-harder!


Seriously I realy need your help finding somewhere to tackle The Triathlon Challenge, if you can help please email me: theeverymanolympian@googlemail.com Cheers ; )