I opened an envelope that popped into my letterbox. It was a warning from my GP following my annual health check at the local clinic. I was borderline obese, pre-diabetic, and ticking all of the boxes for heart disease, type 2 diabetes, dementia, and a whole host of other ailments.
Of course, I knew all of this already. I was not a fool–just an ordinary middle-aged man in denial about his life choices. I was 53 years old, 108 kg, and sedentary.
It was November 2015, and I had a decision to make. I could either start a social media platform and name it “Ailment-book” to track my decline, or I could do something positive.
And on that particular morning, I decided to do something positive. And it has influenced every single decision I make to this day.
Where Change Begins: In a Shed, on a Turbo, With Judge Judy
In my garden shed was an old bike. It was a good bike, a five-speed racer that I had owned since I was 17. Now it was in a terrible state, having sat for years, unloved and unused.
The following week, I took the bike to the local bike shop and asked them to fix it up and make it rideable. Nothing fancy, just make it work. At the same time, I went online and purchased the cheapest turbo trainer that money could buy (£35 on eBay) and set it up in my living room facing the TV.
It sat there for a while as I’d decided that my fitness journey would start on the first of January; a New Year’s resolution for a new life.
So on the first of January, 2016, I climbed onto the turbo with TV legend Judge Judy on the telly and I pedalled away. I managed about 10 minutes (one Judge Judy case), and I was done.
The next day, I managed 15 minutes. And before I knew it, I could go for half an hour at a time (a whole Judge Judy episode).
Climbing Hills and Changing Habits
A few weeks later, I went for a ride on the road. The weather was awful and I walked up almost every hill (I live on Dartmoor, a national park in the southwest of England, where the hills are numerous and steep). But I persevered, and pretty soon I was getting up all of the hills and enjoying it.
At the same time, I was taking much more interest in my diet. I stopped the late-night snacks and carb-laden meals, the deep-fried fast food, and the heat ’n’ eat ready meals. I started eating homemade soups, low-carb evening meals, salads, and a healthy breakfast of porridge with fruit. My journey had begun.
Turning Effort Into Confidence and Momentum
The cycling turned into daily turbo sessions, but with no real structure. I just pedalled and tried to increase the resistance, or had a go at a random workout I discovered on YouTube.
On the weekends, I went out for a ride. The 20km rides soon became 40km, then 60km, then 80km. My confidence grew with each outing. I bought a new bike, again nothing fancy, but with modern gearing that gave me the flexibility to complete bigger climbs and longer routes.
I joined a gym, then spin classes followed, and a few months later, I started visiting the local pool a couple of times a week. My swimming was awful, but with the help of a few lessons, some more YouTube videos, and a bit of effort, I discovered that I’m not a bad swimmer (last week I swam 1.35m/100m for 2.5km).
Discovering Triathlon and the Tools to Train for It
At this point, I had no interest in competing. But that all changed when I was invited to lunch by some friends.
I ended up sitting next to a guy whom I vaguely knew, and we got to chatting about training and fitness. He told me about a local triathlon that he was doing in a couple of weeks. I was fascinated and decided to drive down to watch the event. And that was it: I was hooked. I simply had to complete a triathlon.
I started running, which was tough for me as I was still quite heavy, but I persevered and continued to train hard. I just wanted to do one triathlon to say that I’d done it. It was only supposed to be one… at least that’s what I told myself.
Now that the training was more focused, I started diving into online training aids. Strava was mentioned at that lunch party, and I downloaded it that day so I could start recording my efforts. Later that year, somebody at the gym told me about TrainingPeaks, and I downloaded that, too.
I started with a Basic account, but wanting to take advantage of the planning tools, I upgraded to a Premium account a few months later. I’ve been using TrainingPeaks to plan and monitor my efforts ever since. I also joined my local Tri-club and started doing some of the coached sessions that they organise.
My First Race
The following summer, I completed my first sprint triathlon. It wasn’t fast, and it wasn’t pretty, but I did it. And the little medal that I received became the first in a line of medals hanging on a rack in my kitchen. I thought it would be over then, but somebody explained something called IRONMAN to me, and a new “illness” was contracted.
By now, my weight was down to 80kg; I was literally three-quarters of the man I used to be! At my next annual GP check-up, my blood pressure was down, my BMI was great, my resting heart rate was lower than my age, and all of the warnings from the 2015 letter were gone.
The Choice to Keep Going
I entered my first 70.3 in 2018, and I trained hard for it. I did several sprint distance events, a half-marathon, and a couple of standard distance events in the run up to the 70.3.
I lined up at the start of Ironman Weymouth 70.3 in September of that year with about 2,500 other athletes. On the start line, I was terrified: the sea conditions were rough, and it was cold and raining.
In the start pen, my anxiety intensified as I could see numerous athletes being pulled out of the water by rescue crews, and those were the stronger swimmers who were ahead of me in the start pen.
But I trusted my training, and I had no intention of quitting. And as soon as I got into the water, my fears evaporated and I got into my stride. I finished the swim well and took my time in T1. I got onto the bike and it was going well, when I suffered a catastrophic bike failure about 40 miles in.
The roving mechanic came to my aid but was unable to get me going, and I was retired from the race, given a foil blanket, and told to wait for the recovery van. The van took about 45 minutes to reach me, and I sat by the road and cried, only managing to regain my composure just before I was scooped up and returned to Weymouth along with my broken bike and my broken dreams. I was distraught, I felt shameful, a failure, but I picked myself up and resolved to go again.
Setbacks, Comebacks, and Starting Again
I entered another 70.3 the following year, this time in France … and I DID IT. The next year, I entered another 70.3 in Finland, but it was cancelled due to COVID, and so began a pretty torrid period as training was impeded and events were cancelled. I discovered that I’m one of those people who need an event in the diary to train for.
I had managed to secure a place in the 2020 London marathon, which was run as a virtual event due to COVID, and I completed that. I did the actual London marathon in 2022, and more triathlons of various lengths along the way. In 2023, I fell off the wagon and didn’t train properly for several months. My weight increased and my fitness declined, but toward the middle of the year, I jumped back on. I hired a professional coach and entered several more events, culminating in 70.3 Belgium 2024 (I finished that one, too).
Finding My Place in a Community That Cares
The truth is, I’m no natural athlete. If you passed me on the street, you’d be more likely to think “there goes a guy with a Netflix account” than “there goes a guy with a TrainingPeaks account.” But I do have a TrainingPeaks account, and I use it every day, even on rest days. This year, my main event will be T100 London (paid up and entered). I currently train for about 10/12 hours a week.
This has not just been about my development as an athlete (to be perfectly honest, I feel uncomfortable referring to myself as an athlete), but the friendships and bonds that have been formed with others along the way. Without exception, the people that I’ve met, of every age, colour, sex and religion et al, have all been welcoming, encouraging, sympathetic, empathetic, and above all, friendly.
It is one of my greatest pleasures to have been welcomed so wholeheartedly into a fantastic community of like-minded individuals who all want to see me succeed, who congratulate me when I do, commiserate when I don’t, and receive the same from me in return. And it’s not just the folks I’ve met face to face.
My coach, whom I’ve never met in person (we communicate online or by telephone), has been an enormous help and benefit. The assistance I’ve received from the local bike shop, the Garmin help desk, and the TrainingPeaks help desk, to name a few, has never left me disappointed. Thank you all.
The Joy of the Journey
This journey is supposed to be fun, it’s my leisure, and I want to enjoy it. Crossing the line brings feelings of euphoria and achievement and pride, but it’s not alway easy.
Dragging myself out to run a hilly 10k in the middle of winter can be very hard, and not being able to train because of injury or illness can be even harder. Crying by the roadside when you fail to finish something you’ve worked toward for six months can send you to a very dark place indeed.
But the hard times are eclipsed by the good times, and I sleep better, and I wake up brighter and fresher. I’m slimmer, fitter, healthier, and happier for it; I wouldn’t have it any other way.
