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It’s difficult explaining to people why you have chosen to do an Ironman. Most people look at you like you’re nuts. I guess my close friends and family aren’t that surprised. It’s just another daft thing that I’m doing after all but for other people it’s not easy to associate with. It took me a while to get my own head around doing it, or at this stage, attempting it so I guess it’s understandable that a lot of people look at me like I’ve got two heads when I tell them.

At the end of the day I enjoy playing sport and doing exercise. It’s not necessarily about keeping fit, I could go to the gym for that (although that has no appeal to me at all. Running on a treadmill, riding a static exercise bike or doing weights has to be as part of a training plan or as a last resort if I can’t get outside to run, bike or swim). I like the feeling that doing intense exercise gives me. There is something strangely nice about being physically exhausted. Your body aches and you have sore muscles, but you also get an afterglow that you cannot replicate from anything else. I’ve said it before but it’s my own version of a ‘high’.

I guess I get bored easily too so having a goal to train for is pretty important to me. Without something to aim for I just drift and end up just running or cycling with no purpose. Don’t get me wrong, going for a nice bike ride is ok, I just don’t necessarily see the point of it (unless there’s a pint at the end of it on a summer’s day, and even that isn’t massively appealing. I am a fairly useless drinker) other than a gentle ride with my daughters; I took my youngest daughter Lily out on her first bike ride on Saturday, that was special.

It’s not about winning, I haven’t won a race of any note since I was a kid. It’s about attempting to do something that I consider physically challenging that will give me my own sense of achievement. I can understand why people like James Cracknell and Sir Ranulph Fiennes end up doing one unbelievable challenge after another. I’ve read enough autobiographies to know that this comes from an obsessive and stubborn behaviour trait which then turns in to their profession. To be even be able to put yourself in to that kind of position requires a selfish nature which can be pretty destructive to those around them. I certainly wouldn’t want to be like that, but the life experiences they rack up are enviable. You only get one life after all so why not traverse the Antarctic solo or row across the Atlantic? Good on them I say.

That probably means that I will always be seeking my next challenge which begs the question ‘what’s next?’. I’ve been asked this a few times and, at this point, I have no desire to do an ultra marathon or another Ironman. I honestly see the Ironman event as the ultimate challenge for me so I don’t intend to do another one. That would be about improving my time which is not really the point of why I’m doing it. Maybe after I’ve done it that will be enough. Scary thought.

All I do know is that the next challenge may not be quite as extreme as this, but I will need one. That’s just who I am. A numpty in Lycra. Come to think of it, It’s quite concerning how much Lycra I’ve worn over the years. Maybe that’s what I’m addicted to. That’s not right is it?

It feels quite surreal now. After nine months of training, there’s just one week until the race itself.

I thought it was about time I had a look at the race guide. For myself but also for those coming to support on th day itself. I’m pretty comfortable with the swim. It’s a two lap course at Pennington Flash, Wigan. as it was at Staffs 70.3 last year it’s a rolling start for myself and all the other age group athletes. It starts at 6am in a continuous stream through a controlled access point, which is perfect because it won’t be a washing machine scrum of a mass start. Hopefully I’ll get clear water as I’ll be starting with other swimmers of the same speed (you line up in groups of similar swim times). I’m aiming for around an hour for the 3.8km. The one thing I need to make sure I do is eat well before I get in. The last long swim I did at Six Hills I started to get hungry towards the end. I don’t really want to be feeling like that next week otherwise I’ll be eating like a horse on the bike.

The bike is a little bit hill, but that’s ok. I’ve done a lot of hill working in preparation so I’m feeling good about that. Having decided to use my TT bike I’ve been checking everything works. I’ve also got a couple of spare tubular tyres, a CO2 canister and nbeen swotting up on changing them if need be. I’m really hoping that doesn’t happen. Fingers crossed.

As for the run, that’s going to be a lottery. My legs have felt good on all of my long runs so far so as long as I don’t go too hard on the bike and eat my own body weight in my superfood cake, I’ll be sorted. The big unknown is the weather. It could well be hot, so I’m just going to have to take it easier if thats the case.

I’ve also been thinking why I like training. I know some people do it for weight loss, to look good or to eat what they want. But I just love it. Probably sounds weird but it’s true. I like the afterglow of doing a long session. It’s addictive. People get their kicks out of other stuff, but that’s mine. Maybe I need my head read.

Bring it on.

After the wedding in Malmo, we moved to Copenhagen on the Sunday evening. I’d organised to do a couple of days work with the local team before heading home. Made sense as we were there anyway. We checked in to the hotel and then caught the Metro in to the City centre for a walk around. It’s a great City. We had a wander through the main streets to Tivoli before heading to the harbour area of Nyhavn for something to eat. The atmosphere was really nice, it was good to relax.

On the Monday evening after work we went for a meal with the local team at a restaurant in Tivoli itself. It’s basically an amusement park with all of the usual theme rides, but it’s in a really nice setting.

We took Lily along. There was no way she was going to sit still in her high chair. She’d decided to walk for the first time that day in the hotel. V had sent me a video during the day of her walking up and down the hotel room. She’d only got on her feet and collapsed after a couple of steps up until this point. Now she was full on walking and loving it. The change was quite dramatic. Clearly there is no stopping her now. Watching her is pretty amazing. It must be quite a feeling for her to be able to get up and totter about.

I did some strength and conditioning exercises in the hotel later that evening and then went for a six mile run the next morning. I’d found a route on a previous work trip that took me through a park not far from the hotel, so I did that one again. We flew back to the UK on Tuesday evening.

Wednesday was a one hour interval ride to work in the morning, with 2 x 5 minute harder bursts. I then did a short 2 mile brick run off the bike in the afternoon on the way back from work. Friday was a two and a half hour bike ride. Shorter stuff all designed to keep the legs ticking over.

It feels odd to be dialling back now on the training. It definitely feels as though the end is in sight. It’s got me thinking about life after Ironman. It’s quite daunting in a way. I’ve spent so long training for the race that I’m in a weird state of mind where I can’t wait for the day to come around but can’t imagine life without such an enormous goal after it. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I’m going to miss being on a bike for six hours, but I’ve loved having a defined training plan. I think I’ve got a slight insight in to what it would take to be a full time athlete. I’m not saying I could have done this professionally (I really couldn’t have, I’m nowhere near good enough. Not in any one of the disciplines), it’s just nice to get a taste of it. Well, it is for me. I’m pretty sure it’s not for those around me. They must be sick to death of it.

Roll on race day.

As I was out in Sweden for Grizzly’s wedding I swapped my long run on the Friday to the weekend. I had originally planned to do it on the Sunday, but given the wedding was on the Saturday that was a pretty stupid idea. Staying completely sober during a wedding was frankly ridiculous, even if it was 2 weeks before the Ironman.

We arrived in to Malmo late on Friday evening. We’d flown from Birmingham to Copenhagen and then got a taxi across the bridge to Sweden. It nearly started off very badly. We’d met Grizzly’s brother Tom and his fiancé Grace at the gate and got chatting. We were pretty much the last ones to get on the plane and we were just about to board when I realised I’d left my laptop bag in the terminal. What a tit. The ground staff were less than impressed when I was banging on the security gate to get let back in to go and retrieve it.

We got to the hotel around 11pm. Deciding it was bad form to go straight to bed, Tom and I went out to join Grizzly at the restaurant he’d been at with the wedding party. When we got there they were all trashed. It was quite reassuring. It also meant I didn’t have to drink as they were all ready to leave, which was a bit of a bonus for my run the following morning.

I got up at 6am, stuck my trainers on and made it out of the door. Not really knowing where to go I just followed the coast until I found a straight road, and just ran. It was fairly damp and windy, but other than that it was nice to run somewhere completely different. My normal tactic when I’m travelling to somewhere new with work is to find a river and just run along it. The logic is that you can’t get lost if you just follow it. The wasn’t one in Malmo, so I just kept going in a straight line for as far as I could and then turned around when I got to a dead end. The only tricky bit was dodging all the slugs and snails that were out for their morning walk.

I got another 20 miles under my belt. The last couple were a bit of a slog but other than that my legs felt good. No cramp and no real stiffness. Result. It also meant I could go along to the wedding and have a few drinks.

It was a great day. The wedding was good fun, it was great to see Grizzly and Solli tie the knot. Even did some crap dancing at the end of the night with V. Spot on. Bring on the taper.

I’ve been trying to decide which bike to use during the Ironman race for a while. Up until the Outlaw Half I’d been on my road bike pretty much the whole time. The longest distance ride had been the Rutland Sportive where I’d also used the road bike.

Last Sunday I did a 4 hour ride followed by a 45 minute brick run. For some reason I’d got quite uncomfortable in the saddle (I mean more uncomfortable than normal, I mean it’s not exactly like sitting on the lounge sofa), but this time it was a bit of an issue. The brick run wasn’t a problem, my legs felt great so I wasn’t concerned about making the transition off the bike. However, the thought of being really uncomfortable on a bike for over six hours in the race itself wasn’t very appealing.

I decided to ask a few people what they thought. I even ran a Twitter poll. Opinions were split. The consensus from people that had done an Ironman before was to go with the TT bike. The rationale being that it was less time being uncomfortable because the bike would be more aerodynamic. Can’t argue with that. The other argument in favour was that it would look cool. I’m not sure that this was the best reason to destroy my backside over a prolonged period, but I can’t argue. It would look more cool (the fact that I’d probably be absolutely annihilated by the mega fast cyclists doesn’t matter).

I opted to ride my last long ride on Friday on the TT bike and make a call then. I normally did this ride on a Sunday but due to being in Sweden for my mate Grizzly’s wedding I needed to fit it in before I left. This meant a stupidly early ride. I mean really stupid. I think the birds even thought I was an idiot when I went past.

The ride went really wel. I didn’t get uncomfortable for the whole of the six hour ride, and the speed was easy. Decision made. TT bike it is. And I might even look cool…maybe.

I hadn’t really considered doing a longer distance triathlon until I heard about Staffordshire Ironman 70.3. The Lichfield Tri lads sent the event information around when the event got announced on social media. It was right on our doorstep, so we all knew the course really well. The swim was staged in Chasewater, scene of my ill-fated foray in to windsurfing. Putting my mental scarring aside, I knew I was in familiar territory. The bike section then went to Shugborough Hall via Lichfield and the surrounding villages, literally going past my old home in Kings Bromley. The event was then to culminate in a three lap run around Shugborough estate. It was perfect for all of us. Knowing the area so well gave me a huge amount of confidence that I would be able to step up to the longer distance. It was also exciting to step in to an official Ironman event.

The lads knew it was going to be a popular race and expected it to sell out quickly. They recommended I made sure I was online to secure my place as soon as entries opened. Sure enough, as soon as the website opened up the system was inundated with people trying to register. After a few unsuccessful attempts I finally managed to register and get a place. Some of the others weren’t so lucky. Apparently the event sold out in around fifteen minutes. Along with four of the other club mates, I was in. This was September 2014, the race itself wasn’t until the following June. Plenty of time to get in shape.

Realising that this was a step up in distance I decided to follow a training plan. I found one online that I’d seen recommended by a triathlon magazine. This was a 16 week schedule designed for those who were time poor. There were a lot of references to training in zones which I wasn’t familiar with, but the plan was easy enough to follow. I managed to fit my sessions in around work to ensure I wasn’t impacting my family life too much. I would often commute on my bike and then do any runs during my lunch hour. Swimming would then be in a public session at the University pool.

I’m not great at public swimming sessions to be honest. Having been a swimmer for many years, I have a low tolerance for poor lane etiquette. I think competitive swimmers get this, but I’m sure everyone else would think I’m just being miserable. An example of this would be for a slower swimmer to push off the wall just as I am about to do a turn. This invariably means I swim in to them or have to wait to get around them, cue lots of underwater swearing. Another would be for someone to ‘hog the wall’, meaning that I can’t tumble turn at all because they are blocking the space. This drives me nuts. The only scenario where I am happy in a public swimming session is when I have the lane to myself. Anything else is just irritating. Rant over.

After a few months of training I was feeling good. It was really exciting to do something challenging, and I was really getting in to it. As with most of the bigger events I do I decided to run for charity, this time for SWAN (Syndrome’s Without A Name). I had become aware of this organisation through a work colleague whose daughter had a very difficult and rare condition to manage. It seemed like a worthwhile organisation to support given the challenges those with the conditions themselves and their carers face. Raising money always gives me that extra motivation to get over the line.

The event itself was great. As it was the inaugural one in Staffordshire, Ironman had managed to enlist five time world ITU Champion, Javier Gomez, to compete. This really added an extra dimension knowing that one of the best ever professional triathletes was competing. I didn’t meet him myself, but I know he was very generous with his time, happy to have photos taken and give signatures. He won the event of course and went on to win the 70.3 world championship later on in the season. There were other famous people who were taking part, including TV chef Gordon Ramsay. I lined up with him at the race registration on the Saturday but resisted the urge to engage in random small talk and get a selfie.

As it was a point-to-point race with the finish being at a different location to the start, the logistics were a bit more complicated. This was particularly true for supporters. For the competitors it was relatively easy as you just followed the set up at each transition point. At the end of the race, your gear was waiting for you in your own numbered bag having been shuttled across to Shugborough. But for spectators it wasn’t easy to watch due to closed roads and diversions. The only real opportunity to cheer was on the run section, so that’s where I saw my family.

Conditions for race day were perfect. There was rain the day before so I’d put a rain cover over my bike, but on the day itself it was dry and sunny. After the obligatory multiple toilet stops I was lined up in my wave for the swim start. We all made our way in, got acclimatised to the water and before we knew it we were off.

As usual, I really enjoyed the swim. I got in to a good rhythm with some space and came out of the water feeling strong. The bike leg was good fun. It felt like a sightseeing trip of my life growing up. I loved going through the villages, past old friend’s houses and local landmarks. I think I had a huge grin on my face pretty much the whole way round.

Going through Kings Bromley my daughters were waiting outside the house with a good luck banner and my parents were stood at the cross roads a little further up. It was probably only fleeting for them as I cycled past, but for me it meant a lot that they were there.

I went off at fairly fast pace for me. I was definitely getting carried along with the atmosphere and the occasion. For the first half of the bike I was overtaking quite a few people, but in the second half I was getting reeled in by the proper cyclists. My mate Aaron came bombing past me later on just past Cannock Chase. He was flying. I think he posted one of the quickest bike times of the day. He is a proper time trial rider, and had completed Ironman events before. I saw him burn off up the road as I was starting to struggle.

By the time I came in to transition for the run I was more than happy to get off the bike. The run started off well but towards the end of the first mile I felt the dreaded feeling of my legs beginning to seize up. It’s a horrible feeling. My legs just wouldn’t loosen up. At every feed station I was grabbing drinks and gels, but nothing was working. The three laps were tough. There was an uphill section half way around each one which knocked your stride. It felt like I was going backwards as other runners came past.

All that pain disappeared though when I got to the finishing chute and on to the red carpet. It is such an amazing feeling to run to the finish with the commentators shouting your name and everyone clapping and cheering. There really is nothing like it. It seems to make everything worthwhile. I finished in 5 hours and 40 minutes. The run didn’t go to plan, but it didn’t matter. I’d got my first Ironman event in the bag, even if it was the 70.3 distance. I loved it so much I did the same event the following year. With nowhere near the same amount of training I did exactly the same time. How does that work?

I think I prefer open water swimming to swimming in a pool. It’s just a bit more interesting than plodding up and down a lane going slowly insane. I think it’s something to do with the fact that I swam a lot as kid, seven times a week at one point. That’s probably enough to put anyone off.

I swam in the lake at Six Hills yesterday. It’s a great little venue. It’s run by RaceHub and it attracts a lot of swimmers. There’s no weeds (massive bonus) and I don’t seem to get lake lurgy like I do in some other open water venues. I don’t know why exactly (probably something to do with pollen) but I tend to come out of some lakes with a streaming nose unless I load myself full of antihistamines. An irritating side effect of swimming outdoors I guess.

I did an hour in the water, seven laps of the lake circuit. It was the final big swim before Ironman, so it was nice to get it under my belt. It felt pretty good to be honest, even though I desperately needed the loo at the end. I clocked 3,900 metres, just above the Ironman distance so I was pleased with that.

I think an hour is my limit. I have done 5000 metres in one go once. That was a sport relief charity swim which I completed in Charnwood Leisure centre, Loughborough. 200 lengths in a pool gets quite monotonous. I had the usual issue of getting a song stuck in my head as well. That can be very annoying. Once I had ‘Itsy bitsy yellow polka dot bikini’ going round, that was a very low moment.

I’m in awe of people that have swum the English Channel. I think it’s an incredible achievement, particularly given that the rules for an official channel swim are that you can’t wear a wetsuit. I’m not great with cold at the best of times, so I can’t imagine what it must feel like.

I’ve read a couple of books recently (I’m a reading bore) on open water swimming. The first was ‘Man vs Ocean’, by Adam Walker. He swam the English Channel and then decided that he needed another goal (having experienced the dreaded post event blues) so completed the Seven ocean challenge. This basically entailed swimming ridiculous distances in just trunks, swimming goggles and a cap. He also had to wear a shark repellant ankle bracelet in one of them and got stung by a Portuguese Man o’War jellyfish in another. Proper nuts. It’s truly inspirational but there’s no way I’d contemplate doing even one. A long distance lake swim maybe, but not across a channel.

I thought that story was incredible. After that I read a book by Sean Conway called ‘Hell and High Water’. This recounted his swim from Lands End to John o’Groats. He was the first person to do it and everyone thought he was mad for even attempting it. He had to assemble a support boat and crew, as well as funds to keep him going for the whole trip. He also encountered jellyfish problems as the Irish channel is full of them. His solution was to grow a huge beard to stop getting stung in the face. It’s an amazing story.

Hats off to these guys and anyone like them who devote their lives to do something so extraordinary. I’m sure you could say they’re selfish but I think they’re just following a passion. So good on them, you only live once.

Still, I won’t be doing that. I’m happy just reading about them and doing my own minor version of the life aquatic.

You can probably tell I’m easily bored. Not content with doing triathlons I was intrigued by how I’d fare at duathlon. I became aware of them through the triathlon club and various magazines. They seemed to be the off-season choice for triathletes preparing through the winter. Open water swimming isn’t an option until the water temperature gets above 11 degrees, so most outdoor swimming venues don’t open until April or May. The triathlon season follows this. Duathlons are a good option to continue racing.

To me, duathlons seemed much harder. The run-bike-run format was a real test of your legs and without my comfort blanket of the swim element I knew it wasn’t exactly playing to my strengths. The one thing that worked for me though was that the 10km run was at the start. Sure, it was followed by a 40km bike and a 5km run but at least the longer run wasn’t at the end. A 5km run didn’t seem too bad in my head.

One strong reason for doing a duathlon was that I’d entered the 2015 Ironman 70.3 event in Staffordshire. This was a step up for me from the standard Olympic distance. I felt I needed to have a couple of preparation events to make sure I was ready for the longer distance. With that in mind I entered the Dambuster Duathlon, held at Rutland water in March. I’d been to Rutland a few times in the past for walks and some very leisurely cycling, so I knew the area to a certain extent but I’m not sure I really knew what I’d let myself in for.

In preparation I had been cycling all through the winter on my road bike. I cycled to work in Loughborough as often as I could, taking longer routes home on the way back to my home village in Quorn. It didn’t bother me if it was cold, raining or whatever, I found that making the commute was far preferable to sitting in traffic getting frustrated. At rush hour I could get in to work quicker on my bike anyway so it was natural to me. I’m sure my work colleagues think I’m a nutter for doing this. Turning up soaking wet in lycra cycling gear clearly isn’t something most people would do and probably isn’t a sight most people want to see, but I’m not bothered. I see it as a good use of time, a way of getting my training in without disrupting my family life.

Nearer to the event I added some bricks to my training sessions, namely running straight off the bike. This is a standard training approach for triathlons and duathlons. The challenge most people face is to get in to a running rhythm after spending time in the saddle. It’s quite a strange sensation as your legs adjust to the change. The pros make it look easy. It isn’t. Watching the Brownlee brothers and the other ITU triathletes get in to their stride immediately after completing a brutal bike ride is something else. The fact that they then run a sub 30 minute 10km is just mind blowing. Those guys are on a different planet to the likes of me.

I’d been doing quite a bit of running as well. I had been building up my distances over the weeks leading up to it and was feeling in some kind of shape. As it was early in the season it was good to have a race to aim for. The fact that it was something new was good too.

On the morning of the race it was really cold. It had been threatening snow all week, so in a way it was lucky that it was just cold. There was some risk of ice, but on the day itself it was pretty dry. I always get nervous just before races, but I was getting extra fidgety about this one. I wasn’t too worried about the initial 10km run, but I had no idea how my legs would hold up on the rest of it.

In my usual style I’d turned up with no real research in to the course itself. You’d think I would have learnt by now. I’m just not that type of person. I rarely think too much about things in advance, but panic on the day when I realise I’m just about to throw myself in at the deep end. I’ve always been like this. I know it has been a cause of huge frustration to those around me who don’t understand why I’m not worrying like they are, but that’s just not me.

On this occasion I learnt very late on that the course took place over the apparently famous ‘Rutland Ripple’. I thought this was some reference to wind on the water (I’m also good at jumping to conclusions, often the wrong ones) but it turned out that this was the local term for the hills in the area. I really should have looked this up. The guy giving the pre-race briefing explained the course and highlighted the hills that we would be encountering on the bike leg. The final 5km run leg was looking more ominous by the second.

It was clearly far too late to worry about any of this so after my warm up jog, I made my way to the start line with the rest of the competitors. The venue was really nice. The start and finish were right next to the sailing club with great views over the lake. If I’d been any good at windsurfing (which I obviously wasn’t), it would have been a great place to come and do it.

Before I knew it the race started and I was in to the 10km run which was a straight out and back loop along the edge of the lake. We had to cross a viaduct both ways which exposed us to the wind blowing across the water but I felt strong. There were some really fast competitors which wasn’t surprising considering it was a qualifying event for the world duathlon championships. They were setting some serious pace at the front.

Coming in to transition I clocked 44 minutes for my 10km which I was really pleased with. The bike section was a completely different proposition though. The reality of the Rutland Ripple hit home within the first few miles when I encountered my first major hill. I’m sure it wasn’t that steep but after putting in a pretty hard run, my legs weren’t very happy with me. I’m not sure I was prepared for racing in the cold conditions either. It seemed to be sapping my energy. The whole first half of the bike leg seemed to be uphill and of course, the hardcore cyclists were making mincemeat of me. I can’t say it was very enjoyable. It felt like a complete war of attrition. By the end of the 40km I couldn’t wait to get off the bike.

When I came back in to transition I immediately knew that my legs were in bits. The triathlon shuffle that normally followed the bike was now a stiff hobble. It seemed to take forever to get my feet and legs working. Every time I went up an incline my calves would scream at me. This really wasn’t fun, but at least it was only 5km! Every cloud and all that.

It’s amazing the mental torture you put yourself through during these events. There is always that thought in your head that you could just stop, make all the pain go away. Sometimes it’s a constant dialogue between the optimistic and pessimistic sides of your brain. I can only imagine what top endurance athletes go through. I’ve read Alistair Brownlee’s autobiography that he wrote with his brother. Both of them are incredible, but Alistair seems to be on a different plane altogether. His pain tolerance must be off the scale.

Being part of a large company, I’ve heard lots of guest speakers at our business meetings talk about training your mind to cope with mental stress. I understand the concept, but seeing a top athlete put themselves through extreme mental and physical stress, sometimes to the point of exhaustion, is just awe-inspiring to me. I have been through my own little version of the ‘pain cave’ but I’d love to experience that feeling as a professional sports person just once to really understand what it’s like from their perspective. I’m sure it’s the same in terms of feeling hugely uncomfortable and wanting to stop, but they must have something else that they tap in to which overrides the pain.

I navigated through my own pain barrier to complete the event in 2 hours 38 minutes. This was a new definition of leg based torture for me, so I was pleased with that. At the end of the finishing chute was a beer stall handing out free pints. I took one, but to be honest, it was the last thing I wanted. I wouldn’t say I’m the biggest beer drinker at the best of times so it was hardy top of my list for liquid refreshment after an event like that.

It took a few days to recover. I always tend to get quite stiff legs after big events and this one was no different. It wasn’t on the scale of the days following my London Marathon debacle. After cramping so much during that one I was hobbling for almost a week. Going downstairs was like being poked with red hot spears in my calves and repeatedly whacked with a hammer on my thighs. As I’m writing this I’m beginning to wonder why I do it.