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...