The Sailing Challenge: Training - In The Drink

I live by the Thames estuary as it heads lazily out past the delights of Southend-on-Sea and into the North Sea, so you'd think I'd find it easy to start The Sailing Challenge...

Some two whole years into The Everyman Olympics, I finally found me a coach.

Thanks more to my relationship than to any close connection to open water, and more precisely thanks to the helpful intervention of my missus grandpa Len - thanks Len!

For you see despite a number of enquiries I'd made (at one point leading me to think I'd have to forfeit the use of a proper Olympic-type vessel), it took the good nature of Len and the positive reaction of one very excellent sailor in Mark Taylor to bring about one particularly expensive, overcast morning in southern England...

Just twenty minutes inside of entering Chichester, I'd met up with Coach Taylor, driven to two shops and found myself driving behind a trailered boat while wearing a skin-tight rubber suit and nearly £250 lighter.



Weebles wobble but they can't fall down

Now some of you may think: Why is he in a wetsuit for sailing? Well the simple answer is that the shop attendant and Mark felt this would be my best investment as unlike with a dry suit, I could wear this for The Triathlon Challenge too. It may be a good investment, it's not my best look.
By 9:30am one Saturday in early February I was stood on a stony beach trying to get my hands into some rubber gloves, while keeping out of the way as Coach Taylor set up the laser; an Olympic category of small sailing boat.

Coach Taylor setting up his own power boat, from which he would guide me.

I was instructed to sit in the one-man laser, holding the tiller and the sheet in a particular way - this would gently take me out towards deeper waters while Mark started his motor boat which he would follow in and guide me from. The motor boat didn't start straight away and by the time Coach Taylor caught up with me I was already in capsized in the water some 80 yards away.

'Well that covers my first lesson then...capsizing' - Coach Taylor

This first session I spent more time in the drink than on the boat, thankfully my wetsuit kept me buoyant, though it it didn't seem to keep me dry - I was joined in my rubber get-up by a few pints of cold seawater, but the ear-to-ear grin showed I wasn't complaining.

Coach Taylor & The Everyman Olympian - note how dry he looks!

As the sun finally showed it's smirky yellow face we packed away, and Mark noticed that somehow I broken a small piece of plastic which essentially had caused me to have a harder time of keeping the darn laser afloat. So maybe there was hope for me yet.

I've since had a few more lessons and been joined in the boat by Coach Taylor. We've managed to stay pretty dry funnily enough. This weekend I'm looking forward to getting out on his yacht for some training on how to better read and maximise the window, and just to show how dedicated I am - I'll be missing the mighty Chelsea against Liverpool in the FA Cup Final...come on you Blues!!

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 ; )

The Basketball Challenge: Match Three, Southend Swifts vs Erkenwald Ladies

Oh yes, there's a new British BBall player on the Allstar circuit!I know what you're thinking - how can this be? well read on my friends...

While I've been running the boards of Leigh-on-Sea, my fellow Brit, Luol Deng has been wowing US coaches, through averaging 16.0 points and 7.3 rebounds this season playing for the world famous Chicago Bulls in the NBA's Eastern conference. His performances have earned him a vote onto this month's Allstar game in Orlando, Florida. I earned eight minutes on the court Wednesday evening while 'my boys' (that's BBall talk y'all) battled a spirited ladies team for a 101-45 victory. I'm guessing you're equally proud of the pair of us, Great Britain.

Luol Deng, a kindred spirit?...probably not.

Louis' self-imposed voodoo about playing girls teams came back to haunt him (again) as he go downed in defence and then blocked in attack, but he wasn't the only one to fall fail of an Erkenwalk Ladies team who fault well for the only female team in the league, I for one respect them - I'm reckoning Dan, having been mugged of the ball, and others in the Swifts side who also got blocked that eve will be thinking likewise.

Southend led from the get go and dominated every quarter but amongst the ranks of the fairer opposition No.4 & No.5 each had skills in going up to the net, No. 10 & No.15 proved at times to have nerve with scoring shots from distance and No.7 bossed their side by example; I had to mark her during my time on court and believe me, I got little joy.

There were some real moments of maturity, composure and skill from the cool kids in black: Reece, Jordan, Dan and Brad all displayed some excellent skills while making point-scoring breaks; the highlight of the night goes to Dan for managing to bounce the ball off of his head from a pass, into his own path and coolly lift it into the hoop under pressure.

Nathan, or The Mop as I shall now name him, used his significant height advantage (dude must be 6'4'') to hoover up many of the rebounds in the first two quarters, and this surely added to the impressive points tally.

I too bagged my first competitive points; a penalty was awarded in the third quarter our way and Coach Butterworth gave instruction to the team that I was to take it - I'd have 4 shots...I fluffed the first, then the second (though this time aim was on target, just the power let me down), then miraculously after a bounce on the ring and backboard, my third sunk. A huge cheer went up, I was beaming but with the mini crowd all behind me I opted to compose myself for a final throw rather than revel in the moment. The ball arced disappointingly and we played on.

I was replaced soon after, though once again came on for the final few minutes, Jordan netted the final basket and we saw out the match having just made the ton mark.

I've now played in my third match, and scored 1 point which means I'm averaging 0.33 points per game. By my reckoning this makes me 0.02% the player that Luol Deng is, after just two training sessions ever, the Allstar team selectors may have to rethink the British allocation.

The Basketball Challenge: Match Two, Southend Swifts vs Southend Players

Jarring my back while digging my car out of the snow last Saturday, during a Winter we'd almost convinced ourselves wasn't coming, then driving nearly a thousand miles prior to turning up at Match Two of The Basketball Challenge this evening, wasn't exactly the ideal prep but sometimes life is literally all swings and roundabouts.

The term 'Players' is cool if you herald from Phili and head up a fraternity called something like say Alpha Betas, but when twinned with the word Southend it just comes across as lazy to the British mind. While Southend Players were far from lazy, they were hardly Swift; even I could keep up with their play, albeit from the bench.

When these two local teams last met, Southend Swifts gave them the kind of drubbing that the Harlem Globetrotters dish out in droves, though this evening the Players were lead by a No.9 who Coach Chris described as 'the best player I've seen while at a match', high praise indeed so we had to be on our toes.

Alex, our talismanic No.8, started sprightly and the opposition just couldn't handle the speed of his breaks but gradually the older squad from nearer the sea managed to disrupt our play and create scoring chances of their own. At the end of the first quarter, the Players were edging it.

Coach Chris spelt it out for the lads 'Carry on playing this slowly and they'll continue to lead, play our way; quick and attacking, and we'll win the game', the game was there for the taking, we just had to go up a gear.

The second quarter was the most dramatic, while I watched on from the sidelines I became enthralled in the battle for power as steadily the Swifts picked up points. From five minutes in, the scoreboard swung alternately in favour of either side with almost every passing second.

While my fascination and love for this sport continued to develop, I was still getting painfully few minutes on the court and still any understanding of the rules and signs used by the two officials escaped me; at times it looked as though barely a thing had happened to stop play when the shorter of the refs (the one with the angry haircut) would walk towards the 'judges' table and seemingly play Rock Paper Scissors with himself before give a summary of a made up offence. I was baffled.

Coach Chris was content to use less time-outs than last week, I think this may have been to ensure that the older men were kept moving as much as possible, in order to wear them down.

Southend Players seemed a team based around two key members; their excellent No.9 (unfortunately two knee injuries had robbed me of the chance to see him in his prime) and a lad called Chris who clearly knew the sport well and while not the greatest of shots, thrived on disrupting his opponents play. Outside of this they had a No.13 who looked like he could have been cut'n'pasted from the 70's, a No.14 who flattered to deceive; he looked the part but had the shooting ability of a baddie in the A-Team, and no-one else of note.

The highlight of the third quarter was when the Players' Chris got sent off, seemingly for a double obscenity in reaction to a ref call he didn't agree with. Swifts were already starting to create some room between themselves and their neighbours on the scoreboard through a reinvigorated Alex and the skillful long shots of Brad, and now playing against a weakened side they started to skip away with the lead.

The frustration had clearly got the better of them, Players' No.13 got a little too close to Swifts Alex who had to come off for a bit to recover from the meeting, as he left the court one ref asked how he was and this was the reply, 'I think I've lost a bit of my penis', it turns out that our man from yesteryear had squeezed Alex's manhood in an attempt to put him off his game - his aim had worked as for a good few minutes I thought my team mate was going to pass out from the pain.

Coach Chris gave me the nod once he felt secure in the win and with less than a minute from the final buzzer I joined the action, 'Who shall I mark', I asked...'Number 13' came the reply. I feared for my penis.

This time I didn't get the ball before I knew what was going on. When I joined we were in attack, this quickly switched to being in defence so I spotted my man and got between him and the basket. I managed to trap him and the ball actually came to me in defence just seconds later...I bounced it, bounced it again and it hit my own hip...then for some reason the whistle blew - I think I may have travelled with the ball, but Coach if you're reading this then please can you add a comment on here to confirm whether I'm right). Anyhow, when the ball came back into play it was only a matter of a few ticks before the timer ran to zero and the buzzer signified our victory.

Head Coach Pearl gave me a Southend Swifts t-shirt, an incredibly generous gesture - I intend to earn the right to wear this tee before I even take it out of its fresh wrapper.

Our next match is at home on Wednesday 15th February against Erkenwald Ladies Basketball Team, why not come along?!

The Basketball Challenge: First Training Session

Last Wednesday night I met up with Head Coach at Southend Swifts Basketball Club, Stephen Pearl. I'd landed on my feet...

Basketball first caught my attention when a Greek lad at school started playing the game in London and promptly stopped wearing trainers and starter wearing 'sneakers'. The year was 1990, I thought the kid was double cool.

Michael Jordan may have made the sport globally recognised but this kid in my school, also called Michael, was the only person we actually knew who played the sport. I think even our PE teachers secretly thought he was cool, despite their preference for football, rugby and athletics.

Around the same time my pal Johnny had a basketball net put up by his dad on the carport attached to their garden and my first playing experience came with the boys I grew up with; we'd try and 'slam dunk' the ball but at less then 5ft tall we would have to resort to sitting on one anothers shoulders to get the job done.

As we settled into our teens this Amercian fad passed, our hair grew, and grunge music and girls took our attention.

So when I met Coach Pearl in the car park of Eastwood High School I expected to be greeted by a giant from across the pond....though while Coach Pearl may not be a giant in terms of physical size, he is a goliath in terms of Basketball knowledge and hospitality.

Stephen understood my need to compete in the same number of games as a team would in the Olympics, from day one to the final, and what's more he'd already worked out exactly how I could do this all with Southend Swifts - what a star!

We talked about the club's set-up, standing in the community, the expectations of the players to give something back to the club - Coach Pearl was as proud of the young Swifts that helped introduce basketball to kids at local schools as he was of the 17 students who'd gone on to play in the United States.

I wasn't just there for a chat mind, within half an hour I'd joined the 16-18's and was doing lay-up drills under the coaching of Simon, one of the clubs talents who'd played in the US, he's now returned to coach at the club that gave him his opportunity.

We progressed through shooting hoops from the penalty line, practising 2-on-3 scenarios with an outnumbered defence, learning and role-playing set plays and finished on a best-of-three / first to seven baskets competition.

I thoroughly enjoyed my first training session for The Basketball Challenge, and was wholeheartedly welcomed in by the lads; including Louis (who gave me penalty shooting tips), and Little Darren (he's 6ft 9'...but is shorter than his brother!).

They've even got a player called Jordan, so they must be good!

I've a few weeks of heavy work, where I'll need to focus on challenges during the weekend, but then I'm looking forward to working with the Southend Swifts and will definitely make the effort to give something back.

BBC Radio Wales December interview: Listen Again

Thanks to the Pistol Shooting Coach Morris hooking me up with my first national radio interview last October, BBC Radio Wales invited me back for an update in December, here's how to listen...

Click HERE for the interview, select 28/12/2011, click LISTEN NOW and fast forward to 2:40:10

BBC Radio Wales Presenters Louise & Jamie

Hope you enjoy this, let me know either way,

The Everyman Olympian

The Handball Challenge: Match Three, Warwick vs Brentwood

With Phillipe Kouessan-Ettori and Danny Sedano returning to the fold for their first league match of the season, and our greatest team attendance yet, we headed back to Cranfield University with our strongest squad so far to face Warwick Uni.

Making up the 11 and coming out of a heavy cold I'd be happy to warm the bench while my stronger team mates lead the way...and set off to a fine pace they did; Rob bagged the opening goal of the match for Brentwood were leading 3-2 with ten minutes played.

The refs were a little harsh on us, I'm not saying they were showing favouritism but lets just say that Warwick were getting a generous share of the decisions.

Warwick lead with their lump of a No.8, seemingly playing a looser attack, with No.5 coming in from the right wing to launch shots on goal and a canny No.7 rushing in from the left to force goal scoring opportunities through our central defence.

Warwick's No.7 attacks.

We'd lost some focus after a good start and trailed 13-6 at half time.

Coach Kuller Rabaca gave us a stern tactical talk at half time, the fruits of which flourished early with Brentwood putting the ball into the back of the net 4 times to Warwicks 5 in the opening ten mins of the second half, we were competing once more.

Coach Kuller Rabaca puts the steel back in our wheel

Again we stuttered midway through the half and it seemed we were struggling at times to make our numbers count, despite the opposition suffering a few key injuries during the game but Mark Cory in the Brentwood goal was on song and kept us well in the match with some stonking saves to frustrate their tiring attack.

Brentwood's top scorer, Chris Baker, pounces again - he bagged 8 goals in this game.

We managed a heroic end to the match, outgunning Warwick 15 to 14 goals in the back half of the fixture to reduce the final deficit but sadly the first half lull cost us - the final score Warwick 27 - Brentwood 21.

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

The Handball Challenge: Match Two, Brentwood Vs Essex University

A local derby by all accounts, but with only four teams in the Development League South, which are slightly spread out, we journeyed to Cranfield's patch for the match - each match day all teams gathered at the one venue so as to play back-to-back matches and allow the coaches to deal with any league business.

Cranfield University like to keep their Sports Hall a well kept secret and so you only really know that the modern white block of a building opposite the campus petrol station is in fact the very hall for sports that you're seeking when you leave your car and make the effort to walk through the main doors - there are no noticeable signs on the way to it from either direction, and the hall itself is entire unmarked. Genius.

Controvesy in the carpark: I spoke with Rolf on my arrival, a stocky chap who'd attended my first training session with Brentwood but whom I hadn't seen since, he informed me that he was here for the game but had decided to play for 'A slightly more advanced team', which he added with a wry smile. I hoped he'd be proved wrong but in fairness this was only my second match and no less than three other team mates were on their debut run out today; Duncan, Terry and Ian were each eager to impress.

Essex University's Handball Team are a cosmopolitan bunch who are well organised and skillful in an attack that's quick to break (something which they did on no fewer than two occasions courtesy of cutting out my own poorly selected passes).

Rob scored the first goal for Brentwood - we were ahead for the first time this season! Sadly it was short lived...

The game had spluttered early into life in our favour but the away team soon put pressure on a nearly recovered Mark (he'd damaged his ankle in our first match) in our goal; including having to defend a penalty which I'd unwittingly given away - the ref blew for me elbowing their right wing player, I'd just been clumsy with my left arm in truth (no malice involved).

We knew we were in a game. (That's me far left - stood too far out)

Just ten minutes in I was substituted for Terry to make his handball debut, with both Duncan and Ian each already showing no signs of nerves and making impressive attacking moves, our sole sub was anxious to get involved; he'd prove more aggressive than myself in our defensive line.

'Is that a slow moving train or what?', clearly we needed to work on our speed in switching from attack to defense from this excellent turn of phrase from our Coach.

When I was reintroduced in the first half I settled into my wing duties with greater ease, hugging the line and hanging back slightly as instructed to give our attack some width and passing options. I also cleaned up my defensive play and following some other advice from Coach Kuller Rabaca I managed more effective close-outs on my opposing player by placing my arms behind my back and simply side-stepping into their way.

By half time the scoreline read 6-20, we were trailing but already Ian and Duncan were showing confidence in their goal line moves and combining well with the more experienced players of Rob and George (our most eccentrically-haired team mate), who worked well in those opening second-half moments to bring about 5 Brentwood goals in the first ten minutes.

Essex struggle to contain George in the early moments of the second half.

The second half had started with the same formation as the first had ended, with myself and Sean now occasionally switching wings - a tactic our Coach employed to give their defence something to think about.

On a few occasions I was left short of available passing options due to our players being man-marked so well and getting themselves involved in tussles of their own, my lack of experience led to poorly weighted passes back to Rob in the centre of midfield, which were cut-out by his marker and gave Mark little chance in our goal as they quickly counter attacked. It was no surprise that I was subbed out to Terry once again who was having more success.

Rob, was recently back from honeymooning on the other side of the world, was now commanding our attacks with confidence, though our defencive line became near bereft of comunication as we tired.

Essex Uni were not quick to defend after their increasingly successful recces into our half, though their vocal front man was quick to ensure each of his players were covering their opposing man and this system was proving very effective for them - their last 12 goals came with just 1 in reply, we were soundly dealt with.

Rob celebrates his return by making Rolf look average in goal.

The final score was 12 - 42, the Essex Blades remained unbeaten this season. It was dark when I set off in the car after the match that day, the mood in my car wasn't much brighter.

The Swimming Challenge: Big Fish

Swimming is the oldest sport in the world...OK, so maybe when it first came around it was used as a mode of transport and most likely didn't involve the four techniques we know of today, but in theory we swam before we could walk (give or take a few hundred thousand years for developing from the sea, via apes to our current shape of the moment).

Let me take you back to the Eighties:

Proper cold Winter nights from mid October onwards, the smell of chlorine coming from a plastic carrier bag on a lino-covered floor in the 'utility' room, the odour of vinegar and the sea lingering over the dinner table and happy happy faces under semi-wet hair...ah the joy of a fish'n'chip supper with the family after my mother had taken my older brother and I out for swimming lessons.

Dinner of champions.

I'm sure it was the same in many households across Britain in the 80's, kids as a populace the nation over progressed in their learning outside of the odd swimming lesson at school during weekday evenings at their local pool.

I had the worst trunks in the world but boy I loved 'em and my word how I enjoyed watching my mum stitching a fresh ribbon or badge onto them after another milestone triumph at Pitsea Swimming Pool.

Three decades later I stroll into the pool room at my local baths, I may only be 7 miles from where I learnt this most affordable of sports, but oh my am I light years away from the standards I managed back in the day.

Conscious of my belly folding like a decorative napkin in a posh restaurant, I quickly drop into the pool when I think most eyes are busy looking elsewhere. Now, how do you do this again?

Some twenty or so years since I last swam regularly, here is the challenge I was faced with:

The Swimming Challenge

• Distance: 10,000 metres
• Time: 12 days

Lungs are undervalued my friends, undervalued I tells ya! Mine were almost bursting after that first two lengths, I had to lean with my back to the shallow end wall of the pool and get myself back to below panic levels of breathing - how the heck did the old folk next to me manage to keep going?!

If you can swim to any level them I implore you to go to your local pool and give this a go; it's surely the most recession-proof of sports: trunks, admission, a towel from home and a coin for the locker that you get back = less than twenty quid to get started, and thereafter just your admission fee is needed.

What I really love about this sport is that it's almost totally indiscriminate; you can drop into the pool between a beef of a bodybuilder and a plump dinner lady and you won't know which is the best swimmer until they get started.
With children's sessions and general swimming scheduled in my local pools during the weekends I would need to hit an average of 40 lengths of a 25 metre pool, every week day for a fortnight in order to achieve my target, I just didn't know if I'd be able to make the minimum target let alone the fact that now I would have to exceed it to get the job done.

But swimming is a sport where you can quickly improve: when I got started on my challenge I had to stop for a breather after every two lengths, unable to reach my goal of forty lengths per session (I dragged my sorry arse out of the pool at 28 on that first session), but persistence would pay off.

Unable to manage the freestyle stroke (front crawl to some), I battled the waters with a patchwork breast stroke technique, made up from past memories and watching other pool users. This itself would put additional pressure on my hip and shoulder joints which would simply have to stay strong and see me through.

I'd frequent Belfairs Swimming Pool in that first week, sometimes before and sometimes after work and by the end of the week I was pretty shattered...and my right shoulder popped if I rotated it. I'd managed 188 lengths, and still had a 12 length deficit from the first session to make up.

A weekend break gave me the chance to rest up and try to get tips from friends and acquaintances on Twitter.

Back in the pool on Monday I managed my now standard forty lengths, by this time I was capable of six lengths without stopping, then another six, and then it would vary until I crawled 'over the line'.

That second week I clawed back the deficit with an almighty 50 lengths in my homecoming visit to Pitsea Pool, the place where I took my very first lessons under the guidance of their excellent staff.

By the end of the week I felt like I was half made of chlorine, the webbed feet hadn't quite appeared yet but I reckon my eyes were becoming immune to the sting of the chemically cleaned waters.

This last forty lengths would be my toughest challenge; with an evening of travelling ahead and a relatively short window in which to make my bid for glory I entered the water at Aylestone Leisure Centre, it was a Friday and I'd be pitting my whits against Joe Public during a general 'swim' period - most visitors in these times do anything but proper swimming.

I dodged mothers on social gatherings, teenage girls intent on catching up on gossip while pretending to do lengths, and younger kids dive-bombing when the lifeguards weren't watching. Each length came with added distance through sideways manoeuvres made so I didn't get poked in the eye by a brightly-coloured nail varnished toe or kicked in the head by kids trying to impress their pals.

My last few lengths were like a scene from Saving Private Ryan, suddenly the group of kids hanging out by the deep end split in two and seemed to go on a never ending dive-bombing frenzy; each time I headed into the thick soup I'd get clattered by a cluster of tiny feet and sharp elbows.

Exhausted yet triumphant I touched the tiles for the final time only to realise I'd lost my swim shorts. Just kidding - this only happened in the dream I had that night!

The Archery Challenge: Training Day 1 / Boris Hood

Saturday at noon I was met by Richard Hennessy who rescued me from posh-looking, independent shopping destination, the Rutland Rural Centre, because I'd got lost on the way to the home of the Bowmen of Glen Archery Society.

The clubhouse sits on the right side of a private field which has distance markers running along the left fence, so that the bosses (the frames upon which the targets sit) can be measured out away from tram lines set into the ground near the start of the field that mark where archers stand to fire their arrows.

Coach Hennessy and his wife Chris, along with Kev (also a Coach, but I've yet to learn his last name), are all extremely welcoming and seem already to have worked out the schedule and how the 'final' will work - I felt right at home almost immediately, though worried slightly when Phil (a chap who was firing arrows as I arrived) mentioned that he'd been learning since May and as yet hasn't reached the distance of my competition (which will be 70 metres).

Over a cup of coffee I learn the various Health & Safety aspects and tried to settle the nerves of Bertie the Great Dane - a beautiful yet giant dog, owned by the already lovely Hennessy's.

There is a safety line, from which non-active competitors and spectators can stand, while active archers are at the slightly advanced, firing line. Ahead in the field, in line with the different distance markers, sit the bosses (easel-like stands) and affixed in front of these are the targets.

I learn that there are two different sized targets, the smallest obviously being the more difficult.

Normally beginners would start by practising firing arrows into the ground, to get used to using the bow, then they would progress to firing at a blank boss (one without a target) which is set at 15 yards.

However, I am being fast tracked and so I'll start by firing at a blank boss, 30 yards away...no pressure then!

Chris, Kev and Coach Hennessy kit me out in all manner of garb; including a bow made from various sections of smoothed wood, an arm guard (to stop the string from peeling my bow-arm of skin once I'd fired an arrow), a strap that would stop me dropping the bow, a little leather thing to stop the string taking the skin off of my firing fingers (I'm starting to get the idea that this was quite a dangerous sport) and later I would add a shoulder harness with breast 'plate' to stop the string from flaying my left pec after an arrow is fired.

Kev teaches me the basics of how to fire the bow and I take my first shot...the arrow whistles past the boss and off into the field beyond.

Tips, encouragement and adjustments to my posture are given and once fired my second arrow finds its target with a satisfactory thump - I soon learn the pleasure of this unique sound.

After failing to meet my target of getting all 6 arrows onto the boss in one go (I managed 5 a few times but that was my best on a blank boss), Coach Hennessy moves me onto a boss with a target and begins to fine tune my sight; this is a small round piece of plastic mounted onto the bow, featuring a lolly pop shape in the middle - the trick is to line the head of the lolly pop with the centre of the gold (the bulls eye equivalent) on the target, then release the arrow...as a fat lad I know how to maneuver a lolly pop!

5 Scoring Arrows...on Day 1!

My efforts start to pay off and I soon manage 5 scoring arrows - just call me Boris Hood!

Encouraged by my display I continue to focus on what my coach tells me and look to improve with every shot, meanwhile Phil and Chris have a mini shout-out against once another at 50 yards.

Coach Hennessy later remarked that he'd have been really happy if I'd scored one in the blue ring, to my sheer delight I managed to go a lot better with my next 6 arrows...

The Everyman Olympian stands proud next to 6 scoring arrows...including my first gold!

There's a maximum of 60 points available per round, this can only be achieved by getting all 6 arrows into the centre of the gold circle, with my second from last go I fire a whopping 37:

The Everyman Olympian: Chuffed to bits - 37/60...on day one!!!

Another piece of kit is added, this time it's a device to help balance the bow, providing better accuracy.

I weight up the increasingly heavy kit - the bow I'm using is set at 24lbs of tension.

After a few hours, Bertie and I are on stroking terms, my collective coaches are pleased and I'm as happy as a pig in poop.

The Everyman Olympian thanks Coach Richard Hennessy, formerly GB No.10 - it's a true honour to meet the great man, his lovely wife Chris and Coach Kev.

I leave the field 'of battle' knowing that soon I'll return, I may not be up to splitting apples atop peoples heads as yet, but in my mind I will be...some day.

Sweat FA

Chris Evans of the Essex FA has kindly taken up the mission of helping me to find a team to join for The Football Challenge.

Click on the pick below to take you to Row Z, the Essex FA's E-Fanzine:

If you can help me find a team, please email me at theeverymanolympian@googlemail.com

Cheers!

The Table Tennis Challenge: Ping Bounce Pong Bounce Ping Bounce Swoosh...Bounce

This next sporting challenge (undertaken in October 2010) is based on a game played by more people than any other in the world so I thought it would only be right to take my quest international...by playing matches in England and Scotland!

The Table Tennis Challenge:

• 6 matches
• Against 6 different opponents
• In 6 days

With a pending work trip around half of the UK's best countries ahead I looked to capitalise on my journey by seeking opponents in each location I'd visit; I tapped out tweets, mails, Facebook messages and texts, and even resorted to calling a few people too.

Manchester was done and dusted within an afternoon and on day one I had time aplenty to get to Leeds and check out my customers there too, plus as I was done by store closing time and knew someone in the area I hoped they'd be available and made the call...

You may recall Coach Josie was right at the heart of me changing my goals from 12 to every sport in the Olympics when training me for The Weightlifting Challenge, now she's studying in the city of Leeds and thankfully had a small window of opportunity to play...sadly though every sports club or leisure centre I called was either booked or having their table repaired...FAIL!

I trotted off to visit my good hearty northern pals, Chris and Trish; the very same folk from The Badminton Challenge and The Tennis Challenge.

This time I was determined to beat Chris, he'd won our two previous encounters on those past challenges and now I needed to show my skills with a mini-racquet...I mean bat.

We played like practising champions, in a hall with only one table...well, Chris played like a practising champion, I played like I'd not picked up a bat since holidaying in sunnier climes nearly ten years ago (because I hadn't).

After my thrashing, Chris delighted in giving me some tips and then revealed that he used to play this for hours, every day!

The next day I set off to work and towards Match 2: this time my opponent would be a man I'd trounced during The Tennis Challenge; Tones would be after revenge.

After work I picked up Tones from his location just outside of Newcastle and we headed to a table I'd pre-booked in sports centre that clearly had been state-of-the-art in the 70's, but was now as unloved as an old teddy in the bottom of a teenage lad's wardrobe.

This was to be a battle of gargantuan proportions; Tones took a game, I took a game, Tones took a game, I took...anyhow it reached 3-3, meaning the winner would take all in the final game...it was tenser than Conan The Barbarian, constipated.

We rallied and rallied and smashed and sliced and Tones even hit the deck on one occasion but he emerged victorious and looking like a mildly sweaty and make-up-less Noel Fielding.

Two matches down and 4 to play, I would have to win all of my remaining fixtures to be claimed King overall.

Edinburgh and Aberdeen were visited the following day, and then I had a large Glaswegian in mind with whom to do Table Tennis War!

Louis stands some 8 feet tall and has a reach that would leave me only speed as a potential weapon...but disaster struck when I arrived in Glasgow to find my ol' pal an injured man - I'm not going into his wound but let's just say every one of us would prefer not to have it (thankfully he's better now and the extra hole in his bum has healed nicely).

The match off, we settled into a lovely home cooked meal thanks to his wonderful missus and had a good catch-up, I was relieved in a way as maybe now I could wash off the smell of defeat.

By the start of Day 4 I had a total of no wins and 2 defeats to my name; one beating and one valiant and well-fault loss. The clock was ticking so I had to formulate a plan...

That very eve I would pull off a masterstroke in mid-week organisation; I fixed not 1, not 2 nor 3 but 4 matches - this would be a mini event of the nature no small town sports hall had seen independently organised within its venue before...or it would have been if we hadn't been playing on football night and so had to play on a table set up in one of the squash rooms.

Ali, Matt, Clare and Jess would be my four opponents, I would need a strong wrist and a sound mind to win against them all.

Ali ruined this immediately. He beat me like the novice I was, and this provided my remaining adversaries with the confidence to attack me with verve.

Matt tried some sly shots, but I won through - the taste of my one victory, bitter in the mouth with 3 helpings of defeat - I would need to beat the girls or 'die' trying.

Clare...oh dear, clearly Edinburgh (yes Clare is from Scotland's fair capital but she was living in Leicester at this point) taught many things but not how to play ping pong. I just had the missus to beat...

Victory! In a final match that would see me possibly giving away some points just so's I wouldn't have to sleep on the sofa, I beat Jess with the skills I'd accumulated in 4 short yet long-distanced days.

I'd recommend Table Tennis to everyone, but then again, given that so many of you play it already I guess I don't have to.

My First 10k & How I Got There

Hello, all sitting comfortably? Then let's begin...

You may recall that back in Spring last year, when I was simply looking to complete 12 sports for 1 month each in a bid to lose my belly (tschh), I took up The Running Challenge to cover 26.2 miles (the Marathon distance) in less than 21 days...well at the time I didn't run at all and trust me, I'm still not that great at it!

Sums The Running Challenge up beautifully

Now that I'm on a mission to complete EVERY Olympic sport before London 2012, I'm having to take things a little more seriously, so I've looked into the core abilities and skills that I need and sadly I've found no way of getting away from the fact that Running is key to loads of events.

The magic distance would seem to be 10k (or 6.2 miles in old money), as this is the length of the running leg in the Olympic Triathlon and if I could manage these regularly I'd also have the stamina for The Football, Hockey, Handball and Basketball Challenges.

Having been focused on The BMX, Shooting & Fencing Challenges, I was a little rusty when I again took up Running back at the end of May...on the 26th I managed a slow 3 miles to get me re-started.

http://www.walkjogrun.co.uk/routes/current_route.cfm?rid=40181407-073A-E81B-E0DF57FCCF2CD099

Training was erratic due to a heavy workload and other sports taking up my time, but by June 17th I was running much quicker and decided that day to call this my last 3, from now on I would step up my pursuit of a 10k.

Monday 20th of June I was at my brother's in Hampshire and he challenged me to a game of 'Cat & Mouse': we'd both start and finish at the same point and be heading off on the same route, only I would run to a point 2.1 miles away while Mike would go on to the 3.2 mark, and then he'd 'chase me' back.

When you run around country lanes you often get an echo of your own steps which can make you think that another runner is close up behind you...I pegged it back thinking I was almost being caught the whole way!

I made it back to the start with plenty of lead on my brother, I really recommend you try this method against a better opponent than yourself if want to increase your pace - Mike runs at just over the 7 minute per mile rate for marathons, so I really had to up my game to beat him.

8 days later I ran under 9 minutes per mile in a home town 4 miler, completing the route below in 35 minutes 19 seconds.

http://www.walkjogrun.co.uk/routes/current_route.cfm?rid=A3B42A48-EA64-1F0B-53EB36523E9644E5

I went back to my preferred route-planning site of choice - http://www.walkjogrun.co.uk/ - and planned a 4.5 mile, slightly hilly route, you can check out all of my routes on this site here.

On the 17th July I bagged myself these four and a half miles, though the hilly finish did take a lot out of me and so I took a little while before my next attempt at this route.

Seven days later it was sunny and hotter than I'd expected when I headed out to confirm the distance, but I had to pull up after just 2.5 miles with limbs aching badly enough to force me to quit. Speaking with a colleague who has far more experience at this running lark, I was surprised to hear him diagnose dehydration as the root cause of my problem.

I took a week's break as a dead leg healed and went out on a tentative 4 mile run with my missus uncle whilst we visited the Lake District the following weekend. Feeling confident I was OK, I retraced this route two days later - all went smoothly, though as I was warming down I felt a tug in my back and this didn't bode well...

Another week out due to this stiff back issue, I came back to a 4.5 mile run on August 8th and felt so bullied by the return that I planned out my first 5 mile route since The Running Challenge last year...and 3 days later I bagged it in 49mins!

This 5 gave me a sweet victory; my brother had challenged me to run the distance in less than 55 minutes and I'd nailed it with plenty of time left on the clock.

I confirmed I could do 5 miles and it wasn't a one-off, a few days later in a slightly windy jog along the coast which again took 49 minutes. Sadly though the pleasure of this was short lived, due to some bad luck and a bad decision on my part: the next evening I'd arranged to hook up with an old mate to do some strength work but he'd instead opted to take me out on a run - after 2 quick miles I pulled up with the same problem I've faced in the past; just above my ankles on both legs I was suffering from pins and needles and I had to pack ice on myself to calm the pain down.

I'm a stubborn chap at times and need to learn when to listen to my body, which I did for a change this time and held off of going out for a few extra days on top of my standard 2 day rest...but when I did lace up my trainers again it was to go for glory!

A family gathering at my brother's gave me the opportunity to have a running partner again, and seeing as my whippet-like sibling was currently in training for a marathon and a 10k race, I felt that now was the time to step to the plate; today I would attempt my first 10k.

http://www.walkjogrun.co.uk/routes/current_route.cfm?rid=EB883779-E8D7-ED1B-2069B9F52A5BF34B

This undulating route would include running on country roads, a stony and uneven canal path and a muddy field - so not the ideal route to worry about my time then.

My bro would run off occasionally, then double back and jog beside me for a while, which helped me to maintain momentum but virtually all the while I was suffering ankle pain; it seemed every time I switched gradients my ankles would scream their annoyance.

When I made it to the final downhill slope I was ready to beg for an ice bucket, but I still had the ever-familiar sprint to the finish line. My tiny counterpart clicked the stopwatch and breathlessly declared 'Well done, one hour five minutes and thirty six seconds.

The Fat Lad takes up a Brotherly Challenge

Afternoon folks!

Yesterday I mentioned in Blood, Sweat & Beers that my brother - who I might add is in the latter stages of his fourth decade and runs marathons for fun - challenged me to run 5 miles in 55 minutes or less.

Mike threw the gauntlet down just after I'd told him of my achieving the 5 mile distance on Thursday's run, for the first time since he shepherded me to 5.1 miles on the last leg of The Running Challenge last Spring.

As you'd have guessed, I took up the challenge like a fat lad accepts the offer of cake!

Man vs...Robotic Horse

Yestereve after work I rolled up at Wildwoods Riding Centre in Tadworth, Surrey, I arrived in the hope of finding a coach for the Equestrian Events and left having experienced something that I'd never have dreamed of...and I have some pretty unusual dreams...

If Paco Robanne made a fragrance for Wildwoods then its scent would be best described as 'Horsey Muck...(I mean) Musk' - sure fire winner with the English Aristocracy methinks.

At this stage I'd like to thank Samantha Lowe, yes you may well recognise the name from The Judo Challenge, well Sam being the joy that she is, only went and put me in touch with her pal Trix, who's also lovely and in turn made a few calls and pointed me in the direction of Anthea Chambers at Wildwoods. Thanks also go out to Trix!

Moving on...

Anthea and Office Manager, Jan Dulake, had a good chat with yours truly and we agreed that I'd pay for a block of lessons, during which we'll try and build in my Equestrian Challenges.

The Shooting Challenge, Part One: Blasting Pigeons

Two minutes drive North from Inverness Airport in Scotland, you'll find yourself in such leafy countryside that you'll wonder whether cities like London actually exist at all. Thanks to winning a competition prize on Dave Berry's former XFM radio show I found myself, along with my missus in this very situation. Yet I did have a challenge in mind...and it involved pigeons.

The morning had started with the usual rush to pack and load the car, but this time I wouldn't be going to work, I'd be going on a mini break with my girlfriend and the bill was being picked up by NDL Group thanks to a text I'd made to a radio station some 6 months previous.

We stopped for the now standard service station breakfast - show me a road trip that doesn't begin with one and I'll show you a naff road trip! Unfortunately we picked the worst hot food venue out there...

The laziest sausage sarnie...in the World!

We made up for this atrocity at the Apostrophe eaterie at Gatwick Airport before boarding our plane to Inverness.

Just an hour and a half later, having driven through some of the most glorious countryside in the UK, we entered the mile-or-so long driveway that leads to Alladale Wilderness Lodge.

Alladale is not just any lodge...

Oh my...

This amazing old hunting lodge is set in the grounds of Alladale Highland Wilderness Reserve; owned by visionaire Paul Lister, the son of the founder of furniture company MFI and himself the founder of The European Nature Trust (TENT).

Lister's aim is to create Europe's first every wilderness reserve - taking a 23,500 acre plot in the highlands of Scotland back to how it would have been some 300 hundred years ago (truly inspirational, you can read about this here).

Insert bears, wolves, moose, grouse, red squirrels, boars and bison here.

A Land Rover ride later we arrived at our private stone cottage, Ghillie's Rest Lodge.

Ghillie's done a lovely job with the place.

Once our bags were ditched and we knew where to find the food and work the various gadgets, our host Innes drove us straight off to my next sporting challenge...Clay Target Shooting.

Innes MacNeill is Reserve Manager at Alladale, but he's also competed at the World Championships for Clay Target Shooting - so as coaches go, we'd hit the jackpot.

Coach MacNeill introduced us to the shotgun we'd be using for this task, its twin barrels were mounted one atop the other to allow easier aiming and accuracy.

Due to cost restraints (I'll be honest The Everyman Olympics is costing me a fair wedge; I'm still entirely self-funded) we'd simply be emulating the Olympic Final of the Trap discipline used at the games.

Here's how The Clay Target Shooting Challenge would work:

• 25 Shots each, 1 point per hit.
• 3 separate traps: The Grouse (10 shots), The Pheasant (10 shots), Going Down The Line (5 shots).
• The highest scorer would be the winner.

The Grouse

Standing in a large clearing, clay targets (or 'pigeons') would be fired towards and above us from approx 15 metres away - for this and indeed each of the traps, we'd have 1 shot to break the target and collect the point.

At each trap Coach MacNeill talked us through what was going to happen, then he'd ask us who was going first.

Thinking on my toes I suggested Jess should go first, so that I knew the score I'd have to beat and could get a look at where the clay pigeon would fly from.

Though Jess missed the first shot, she then bagged the next 4! Was my missus secretly an assassin and not a buyer at Next?!

Agent Fountain on the Grouse

Innes berated me for having put my girlfriend in first, saying that being over-competitive would be my downfall in this challenge; by not going first I'd have added pressure to perform and would be ignoring his instructions thinking I knew best...dammit he was right.

In my first five shots I only hit the second pigeon - I would stop moving the gun the millisecond I'd opted to shoot and this was disastrous every time, I think the one hit I did get was a fluke.

Jess hit a further two clays in her last five shots at the Grouse, which gave me a chance to calm down and pay more attention to Innes - not surprisingly this tactic paid off, I bagged 4 of my last 5 clays!

Spot the city boy in the countryside.

The Grouse: Jess 6, The Everyman Olympian 5.

The Pheasant

Moving up the hill to our second trap, Coach MacNeill delighted in pointing out the error of my early strategy, given that he was carrying a gun and clearly knew how to use it, I thought better of being a twat and biting at his jibes.

The Pheasant trap was mounted higher up than our first shooting position, on shouting 'pull' Innes would press a remote control which fired a clay target from the trap, this time rising in the air towards us and over our position at a slight angle, before landing in one piece behind us if we'd missed the shot.

Jess again went first, blasting her first pigeon out of the air like she was born to shoot...but then perhaps pressure to produce got the better of her because she missed the next four.

In her second stint on the Pheasant, Jess would manage just two more hits.

Luckily no aircraft were hurt in the making of this photo.

The Pheasant: Jess 3, The Everyman Olympian 5.

Going Down The Line

While feeling let down that this trap did not have cool bird-based name I got put in first by my girlfriend who claimed she had a slightly sore shoulder (I knew she was blagging it but what can you do eh?).

We'd have 5 shots from this last position, we were stood back down in the clearing, only this time the clays would race away from us, barely clearing the treetops and allowing only a short few-second spell in the light of the sky.

Jess had employed the strategic genius of Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible, perhaps she was an assassin after all...

I struggled to get to grips with the movement and speed of the clay, only striking my final target.

Shooting clouds

Blasting her first pigeon out of the air like it had flown off with her favourite bracelet, I feared the worst...but I really didn't need to.

Going Down The Line: Jess 1, The Everyman Olympian 1.

Maybe it was beginners luck on this trap, maybe Agent Fountain thought better of showing off her skills just to win bragging rights, I'm not sure which but I wouldn't let these trivial matters get in the way of a win!

Final Score: Jess 10, The Everyman Olympian 11.

Afterwards Coach MacNeill remarked that getting double figures on our first ever attempts was actually really good. Adding that women often tended to do better because they listened more (he was still carrying the gun).

With special thanks to Coach Innes MacNeill - a top coach, guide and all round fella.

We really enjoyed our stay at Alladale Wilderness Reserve, the work that Paul, Innes, John and the team are doing is truly amazing and we'll definitely look to come back some day to see how it's coming along, and get a glimpse of how Scotland used to be.

If you'd like to check out Alladale yourself, here's their website: http://www.alladale.com/

.

The Everyman Olympics 1st Birthday!

Some Birthday candle eh?!

I began my mission to tackle every sport in the Games, rather conveniently on my 33rd Birthday, this week I turned 34 on The Everyman Olympics 1st Birthday!

Personally I believe that when most of us arrive at our 30's we take an introspective look at ourselves, reminisce on what we've done so far and reassess what we want to achieve - then work out how to get it.

I guess I took a little longer than most to work out my goals; What would I like to do with my life? (Probably the only question we ALL share).

When I started out with the idea for The Everyman Olympics I didn't do any regular sport, had the dietary habits of a fast food restaurant employee on the late shift who happened to like a drink straight after work, and the hand-eye coordination of an elephant...I looked like this:

I weighed 14 stone 4 pounds (200lbs / 90.9kg) and had the physique of a bag of spuds.

The facial hair may have calmed down since then (though if you follow me you'll know that at one stage I had a ginger hedge for a head), I now look like this:

I weighed 13 stone 7 pounds (189lbs / 85.9kg) when I stood on the scales the morning of my 34th and while I'm still chasing the original goal of losing a stone, my physique is starting to look more toned (less spud-like) and there are firm bumps where loose lumps once roamed.

I've met some very excellent people along my journey from swimming pool attendants to former World Record holders, but I've still got miles to go!

So far I've tackled Rowing, Badminton, Running, Weightlifting, Road Cycling, Tennis, Canoeing, Decathlon, Swimming, Table Tennis, and am midway through Water Polo and Fencing...oh and now I'm starting Judo tomorrow!

Judo will be my 13th sport of 38, making me officially a 3rd of the way there...and it only took 1 year.

Please check out this page and if you can help with a sport I've yet to achieve or want to get involved then please get in touch:

Twitter...Facebook....Email

Or if you simply want to wish me a Happy Birthday! then add a comment below...Cheers!

The Decathlon Challenge: Training

Aged 33 I have 2 distinct memories of the sport of choice I had in mind for this challenge, undertaken back in September, and they both involved the same man...

Watching arguably Great Britain's Greatest Ever Olympian at global athletics events on the tellybox as a nipper ...Daley Thompson.

What an Athlete!

And playing Daley Thompson on the game named after him on my old computer: Daley Thompson's Decathlon - the 1500m final took place in real time! You had to keep the animinated DT running for nearly 4 whole minutes - kids got blisters just getting the great man through this one event!

During The Canoeing Challenge I met a really sound chap called Henry - I'd later knock him off of his canoe but that's another story - he's a chilled fella who it turns out, happens to also be really good at the javelin.

Once I'd found this out I quizzed the man and he hooked me up with Clive, the man responsible for running Saffron Lane Sports Centre in Leicester.

Clive was probably a touch bemused by the request I made but nevertheless agreed that a few mates and I could come down to the club one Saturday in September and attempt to compete in our very own Decathlon.

There was just one issue he did highlight though: while the club owned the equipment for the Pole Vault, they didn't actually own any poles - not a problem I thought, I'd just get in touch with someone and borrow one...that'd be easy, right?!

Having booked a date I set about recruiting competitors; I asked friends, friends of friends, and spread the word on social networking sites.

I also made an effort to get in touch with actual athletes who might be able to provide tips for training and technique, in this respect I didn't get on too badly...

I broke the events down by category, thinking this would help with training:

3 Throwing Events = Shot Put, Javelin & Discus

3 Jumping Events = Long Jump, High Jump and Pole Vault

4 Running Events = 100m, 110m Hurdles, 400m and 1500m

I figured that if I could build a good pace for the 1500m, then shorten the distance and increase the pace that I'd soon nail the flat sprints...

I'd emailed local legend Dean Macey, Commonwealth Games Gold Medalist for the Decathlon in 2006, here's his advice on this matter:

'First thing with training for the Decathlon is to remember that most of the events need power and speed, so don't waste to much time on training for the 1500m as its only one event in ten'.

Local Legend Dean Macey, with his Commonwealth Gold Medal

Ah...

I ditched my plans to run 1500m sets along the sea road at this point and relocated to Southend Leisure & Tennis Centre (which has an actual athletics) track from then on, where they had the equipment required for all 10 events.

'Power and Speed', Deano's words rang around in my head...thinking I had more power than speed already, I opted to train on my sprinting ability - as a 16 sec/100m guy at school I knew I'd need to put the work in...

I'm pretty sure that 100 metres never looked so long before. On my first attempt I started to fade after the first 40 metres - this was gonna be harder than I thought.

The view as I trudged back from the Finish Line

Twitter came in handy once again - this time I asked former European & Commonwealth 400m Champion Iwan Thomas MBE for some sprint training tips which sounded ace but to be honest I simply wasn't fit enough to follow them to the letter.

Iwan Thomas MBE: Double Quick

With a few weeks till the day of the Decathlon I looked to increase my focus on the other events, first up I borrowed a set of hurdles from the very helpful team at the sports centre.

I'm mythed how the pros manage this! I'm not kidding - even at 6ft tall, with hurdles set to competition height they're up beyond my hips...its like doing 10 High Jumps at speed, head on!

Keeping the sprint and hurdles training going (albeit with the hurdles set a few notches lower), I looked to add in some of the field events...

I used to throw Shot Put for my school as nipper so I had some idea on what to do with one, while the discus would take some effort to learn and I sought advice from the very best on the Javelin...

No, not from Henry as you may have thought but from former World Record holder (not to mention Olympic Silver & Bronze medalist, European & Commonwealth Champion!!!), Steve Backley OBE.

Steve launches another rocket.

Armed with tips I again went back to the great folk of Southend Leisure & Tennis Centre and asked to borrow the three items that would help me train for the field events..and was denied!!

Seems for 'Health & Safety' reasons I needed to have certain athletics qualifications to use the blooming equipment - I was gutted, but I gather their insurance wouldn't cover them I speared myself / dropped the shot on my foot / smashed my teeth out with the discus...so I couldn't complain, they were simply doing their jobs.

I would have to learn a hell of a lot from my first attempts on the Big Day...

...to be continued...