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

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 Handball Challenge: Oxford Uni Tournament, Matches Four & Five.

Oxford University is famously the source of many great achievements and the producer of many of the greatest students of all time. On the Thursday 6th May 1954 medical student, Roger Bannister became the first man in history to run a sub-four minute mile; using two pacemakers he clocked 3mins 59.4 seconds on the Iffley Road track - bizarrely, despite having once been president of the Oxford club, he set this world record while running for the Amateur Athletic Association.

Saturday 7th January 2012 Brentwood Handball Club arrived at the very location of Bannister's amazing feat, it was to be another historical day, albeit at a far more modest level.

Coach Kuller Rabaca had liaised with both Cardiff and Thames Handball Club's to organise a mixed sex, mini tournament that would see athletes of all ability levels (from at least two continents) collide in a battle of whit, speed and agility.

The Handball Challenge: Match Four, Brentwood vs Cardiff

This was our first match with a mixed sex team this season, under the tournament guidelines we had to 'field' three girls at all times - as we only had three girls Coach had agreed that they'd all play as long as they could. Jo would be a goliath on our goal, while Julia and Steph both worked the wings and used their experience to instigate overlapping runs and attack the line.

Brentwood Keeper Jo making one of many saves against Cardiff. (The Everyman Olympian is No.8)

I was chuffed to start the match and worked in partnership with Steph, switching our positions to give Cardiff problems in their attacks and ours. With strong options throughout our team we had the upper hand against our Welsh opponents - some of whom were having their first competitive experience.

Cardiff's main threats came from their captain and a tall lad who had travelled to the fixture independently and simply looking for a game, it turned out he was Brazilian and plays in the English First Division - luckily for us he was having an off day, throughout the afternoon he must have hit the crossbar a dozen or so times.

At one point the ball had flown over the top during a Cardiff attack, I was completely unaware of it as it bounced on my head, then bounced on my head again as walked backwards, landed safely in our area for Jo to collect - unwittingly I'd nullified them with ease. The crowd applauded.

Mark was enjoying the freedom of being out of goal and on a number of occasions broke free to counter attack successfully - bagging several goals in both halves of this game. Rob also had his scoring mitts on - his aggression in attack helped make up for some of our players who couldn't make the tournament.

Brentwood's Rob pounces.

Coach had made it clear to the team that if we got a penalty, then I would take the first one. While on the bench midway through the first half I got the call, temporarily replacing an in-form Rob. I had no time for nerves as all eyes were on me - this was my chance. As instructed I planted my left foot firmly behind  the penalty line, eyes moving from left to right making my choice - the goalie was close enough to see my decisions as it was made...having meant to throw the ball away from where I was looking, I proceeded to launch it straight at the guy...thankfully he fluffed his lines and the net bulged, The Everyman Olympian had scored!!

The Everyman Olympian scores his first competitive goal

We broke for the first half 17-10 ahead.

Duncan was frustrated with himself in the break, feeling he'd squandered scoring opportunities, I told him to relax, that patience would pay off - he spent 2 minutes in the sin bin during that second half, clearly my advice worked then.

The fear of not closing out the game drove us on, the game ended 30-14, we'd won both halves and more importantly we'd won our first match of the season!

Rest is for wimps...or is that breakfast?..or is this nonsense? Either way we didn't get much of a rest (or a second breakfast for that mater) as we had our second game of the day to play...

The Handball Challenge: Match Five, Thames vs Brentwood

Terry was worried, 'They've got matching socks', he was right to be.

Thames had a coach who looked like he was cut and pasted straight out of a scene from Rocky IV right onto the sidelines of this court, with an 'I will break you' stare to boot.

Their team consisted of more talented girls than you'd find in an 80's US chick flick and what's more they were fresh. By contrast we were fresh meat - Coach Kuller Rabaca called a time-out a third of the way into that first half to give us a wake-up call, 'Your minds are elsewhere, maybe twenty minutes ago. You need to get in the moment'.

The Ref looks on as Thames' rapid No.19 storms through Brentwood's sleeping defence early the first half

Whether our lads were mesmerised by their No.5's cute bottom or like George Michael found sleeping at the wheel at a set of traffic lights, we'd simply run out of puff, it was hard to tell - but Coach was right.

Brentwood's Terry blocks Thames' excellent No.22

By half time we were 18-6 down, Coach had his work cut-out.



After a long spell on the sidelines I was asked to come on for Sean in a slightly more central role, I felt my defending was weakened but enjoyed better efficiency in our attacks, laying up Julia to score goals from our right wing, while Duncan continued to enjoy better poaching chances in the centre.

Duncan makes a break count against Thames

The main incident in this match was caused by one of their few male players getting under the skin of Ian on our side, the two were both sent off when Ian reacted to some of the abusive comments being made.

We managed 9 goals in a better second half but Thames showed their class finishing 36-15 the victors.

I'd scored my first ever competitive goal, this won't go down in Oxford University folk law but it means a heck of a lot to me.

Brentwood Handball Club: Oxford Tournament '12 Team
Standing: Coach Kuller Rabaca, Rob, Steph, Mark, Duncan, Ian, Sean
Crouching: The Everyman Olympian, Jo, Julia, Terry.

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 Handball Challenge: Match One, Cranfield Vs Brentwood

My travel to and from the University of Essex Sports Centre pretty well mirrored my performance in my match for The Handball Challenge; I got lost due to an unclear path and was disorientated at the end.

The Handball Challenge:

• 7 matches before the Olympics starts (I've joined Brentwood Handball Club to play in their season).

Much like other team sports, the worth of your labours in training amount to nothing until they're tested on the field of play, or in this case the colourfully lined indoor court.

Baptisms of fire vary in heat like a curry without the English translation on the menu; you're not sure what you've let yourself in for until it's all too late, in this instance I was the oik left gulping down Cobra like a man who'd not seen liquids in weeks.

The play was quicker than my brain but I now know that with a third of the match down (20 minutes), we were only trailing 3-5 and were well in with a fighting chance against a Cranfield University side that was well stocked with apparent fans of Rap and Metal music.



Cranfield break through to apply early pressure (The Everyman Olympian, Far Right)


Then disaster selected Mark and struck him with a bitch slap to the ankle, we were now substitute-less and yours truly would be seeing out the rest of the game. Coach Kuller Rabaca called a time-out to give us a breather and make us aware of the situation.

Whether it was the news that hit us hardest or our opponents more collective reaction to this game-changer I'm not in a position to say but when the ref blew for half time we'd slipped ten points adrift with no further reply, the score now 3-15.



Our great goalie David draws on this childhood days of watching Karate Kid


Hans-Jorg took us aside for a rest and a pep talk, we needed to focus, maintain shape and move the ball quicker to the attacking players in the second half.

Sean and George mustered a tiring defence as best they could (each also netting 1 and 2 goals respectively in the match), while Chris lead an aggressive and physical attack that yielded 4 goals and riled their defensive triangle.

Collectively we were sharper in the back 30 and reduced their scoring opportunities, though their agile yet short front men continued to pose a threat, George and Big Phil were able to disrupt them while they looked genuinely unsettled by Chris' counter attacking ability.



George limes high to save us after Cranfield launch another well-oiled attack


7-22 The final score of a match which we'd lost due to their blistering opening half while we still getting used to each other, a heavy loss then but there were some positives to build on.

You can find out more about Brentwood Handball Club and the sport here.

Walk Jog Run Podcast - Interview 17th October 2011

Yestereve before I went off for my first training session for The Handball Challenge I had a call from the states, Caitlin from WalkJogRun.net was on the line and interviewed me about all aspects of The Everyman Olympics.

You can check out my interview for this site here.

WalkJogRun.net is a great site that I came across through a friend when I was looking to see where I could run when I was away from home, it's great for mapping walks, jogs and runs; does what it says on the tin.

First Handball Training Session

My back aches, my feet are sore, my clothes dripping with sweat an my right hand feels like it's been through a strenuous workout of it's very own (hold back the sniggers you in the back), and I feel great!

I drove over to join the Brentwood Handball Club this evening for my first taste of training for The Handball Challenge and thanks to Coach Kuller Rabaca I may even being joining the team for the whole season.

Coach Kuller Rabaca put six of us through our paces while three others practised Goal Keeping drills at the other end of the court, then we joined to play a 5-a-side match that ensured I was thrown in at the deep end.

I loved the training element and the warm-up drills as they were varied and I felt I was learning pretty quickly - I now need to work out how to put this into practise during a game, because I was pretty shoddy in the mini match.

This Saturday (22nd October) I'll hopefully make it there in time to get my first competitive match in too, if you're around from 3pm in the Brentwood area then why not come along, here's the address:

Brentwood Centre

Doddinghurst Road

Brentwood

Essex

CM15 9NN

Telephone: 01277 215151

Coach Kuller Rabaca and The Everyman Olympian - as taken by Ralf, who had shaky hands after remaining from 12 years in the Handball Wilderness

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!

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 Athletics Challenge: The Everyman Olympics Decathlon Day

On the morning of the big day back in September 2010, I rolled into the empty car park of Saffron Lane Stadium in Leicester and waited nervously in my car for the other competitors to arrive for The Decathlon Challenge.

I'd been doing what training I could at Southend Leisure & Tennis Centre and though I was still carrying a lot of weight I had managed to get some training tips from local Decathlon legend, former Olympian and Commonwealth Games Gold medalist, Dean Macey.

Coach Macey: Commonwealth Decathlon Gold Medalist 2006

First to turn up was my girlfriend's father Chris and his lovely wife Elaine, Chris had recently completed an incredibly tough challenge of his own in an impressive time frame; LEJoG - the Land's End to John o'Groats bike ride.

Soon afterwards the other contenders and some much appreciated helping hands arrived so we entered the stadium and met up with Clive, the manager of the facility, who'd very generously given us the opportunity to use the stadium for surely the only amateur Decathlon he'd ever hosted.

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.

AP McCoy's Got Nothing On Me

Earlier this evening I took myself along to a great local store to get fitted up for some new togs, though these aren't the ones I've promised myself for reaching 5 miles running...these are for The Equestrian Challenge.

The Raleigh Equestrian was my shop of choice, after checking out their website I knew this was the one for me and when I rolled up, the lovely ladies there were of great help in getting me kitted out.

The Eskimos have departed, fearful of the Horsey Folk!

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!

Blood, Sweat & Beers

Hello there! Yes it's long over due that I popped my head in to say hello and give you an update on my endeavours to tackle a challenge in EVERY Olympic sport before London 2012, brace yourselves - I warn you this isn't pretty...

Having tried to knock my own head off during Race Three in The BMX Challenge, and then attempted to avoid being fatally wounded while playing with swords for The Fencing Challenge, I took a mini break up in the Lake District with my missus and some wonderful friends from Doncaster (you may know Chris & Trish from The Tennis Challenge and The Badminton Challenge...oh and The Table Tennis Challenge!).

June and July are months where my ability to make time for sporting tasks is challenged to the maximum, due to long long days at work and the desire to maintain my relationship with the best lass a fat lad could ever hope to snare.

During this time I've been away to Berlin for a trade show for work and tagged on a weekend out there with some pals - this involved a lot of testing of the local restaurants and draining of the hotel bar, though I did push myself into the gym for a punishing run the morning after one particularly taxing night on my liver.

Managed just 3 miles and felt like death

Don't let this convince you I'm not trying or going back to my old ways mind, I have been busy working my way up to running the furthest distances of my rather mediocre sporting life. In an attempt to build stamina for challenges like Football and Triathlon that I have ahead, I've set myself the mission of running three 10k's a week - a feat I feel will enable me to chat freely with 'proper' runners whenever I bump into them.

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!

Sprint advice from Team GBs finest

In my quest to perfect my training techniques as I look to do each sport for The Everyman Olympics justice I was able to meet up with Team GB's 400m ace Martyn Rooney today.

After waking up early at the missus in the Midlands I logged onto Twitter and couldn't believe my luck when Martyn replied to tweet of mine - he'd be training at Loughborough University's HiPAC - High Performance Athletics Centre.

Rooney is a Double Olympic Finalist & World Medalist, so I figured he could teach me a thing or too about the most dreaded of track events - the 400 metres sprint.

Martyn Rooney: Double Quick

I know what you're thinking - I've already completed The Decathlon Challenge (I just need to post the report...it is coming....honest!) BUT I've recently managed to get the opportunity to do another one - against real Olympians!!!

This next Decathlon will happen in Summer...hopefully...I'll keep you posted.

When I arrived at HiPAC Martyn was coming towards the end of a training session on the outdoor track, so I introduced myself as he walked back from one of his 150m sprints and then popped back inside the impressive building to wait for him to finish.

While I waited I had a chance to watch some of GBs finest talent train hurdles, sprinting and javelin - I know the latter sounds weird indoors but in the centre they have a purpose built area for this and use javelins without a point on them.

We spoke for around half an hour about everything from running technique to competing at the Olympic Games to legends Martyn knew and had trained with to the difference in training facilities here and in the US to preparations for London 2012.

I was buzzing when I left, I knew how to approach the toughest of the Decathlon races and I think there was even a mutual admiration as Martyn had asked about my quest and seemed to really like the idea of someone willing to attempt every sport.

It was a real privilege to meet a great athlete and a top bloke, I wish him all the best with prep for the World Championships in South Korea this August and come the Olympic Games I aim to be in the stadium cheering him on.

Martyn meets a massive beard wearing a fat lad