I'm done

At the start of the summer I set myself some fitness goals. The kids were still in school, my training was going well and the smugness factor was strong.

I started on a nice easy 10k mini marathon in June with a PB and thought I had it all nailed. July was to see my first aquathon, August a Triathlon and 2k sea swim, and September the terrifying Hell and Back Adventure race.

Fast forward a few weeks, the kids are no longer at school, no training is being done and chaos has broken out.

The aquathon was skipped amongst sore throats and missed deadlines, and I cursed my smug mug daily.

The only thing that was progressing well was the sea swimming - a haven of frozen torture in a summer of rain and no childcare.

Triathlon day arrived and with it an orange weather warning. Wonderful. I set the alarm for 5.15am and spent most of the night listening to the torrential rain. Silently I vowed to myself never again. Again.

But I made it. Wet and happy. 2 out of the five ticked off the list.

A week later the sea swim was completed. Easier than expected and actually enjoyable.

Smugness was rising.

With only one event left I skipped out the door on Saturday to do the Hell and Back adventure race.  'Back in a couple of hours' I called out as I dashed off.

I'm not sure there's much point in describing what came next. Mud, mud, and more mud. Ditches, rivers and swamps to wade through. Walls to scale, logs to carry, mountains to run up, electric shocks, ropes, and sure lets thrown in a bit more mud for good measure.

Two and a half hours later these guys hooshed me over the final wall and we were done. Bloodied, bruised and well, just a little bit muddy.

So that's me done. Finshed. Complete.

Oh, and never again.


A team of over 200 took part in Hell and Back for the Gavin Glynn Foundation. Thanks to all who sponsored me for this great cause. Photos by Alan Rowlette Photography.

'If you fail to prepare - prepare to fail.' And other good Triathlon advice.

I had two goals ahead of yesterday's dreaded triathlon. 1. Not to fall over. 2. Not to come last. I really should have added a third - To actually finish, but clearly I was being cocky at the time.

The morning of the race was full of nerves for me, honestly not knowing how it would all go. There's me looking small and frightened amongst the big boys at the race briefing:

And there's my brother looking more relaxed than anyone has a right to be before doing a triathlon - when you got in at 2am the night before.

A walk to the beach, some instructions I couldn't hear, and then we were off:

That's me in the yellow hat

There were a couple of lessons I learned over the course of the course:

Some people are unbelievably fit. Never underestimate the amount of training you need to do. I am really shit at cycling.

After a fairly good swim I watched athlete after athlete passing me on the cycle, but I actually felt pretty chuffed with myself at the time. 'I beat him in the swim' I murmured under my breath. 'And him.' 'And her' as they passed me by. These are ripped and toned bodies on expensive bikes with aerodynamic handle bars and painted on tri-suits. They deserved to be ahead of me.

But then the bikes started getting older, as did the people on them. The tri-suits became flapping t-shirts around ever broadening bodies. And still they passed me. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. I swear one of them had a newspaper under his arm and was whistling as he went by.

But I made it back. Eventually. I dumped my stupid-new-bike-that-didn't-make-me-go-any-faster and set out on the run. Meeting half the competitors coming back the other way was almost as demoralising as the cycle, but once I settled into the run I actually managed to claim a few places back. And so what if they were one legged grannies?

Anyway, I'm happy to say that I managed to tick off both of my goals and finished the race in 1:34mins. Not the greatest time in the world but crucially with no.2 goal in mind - not the worst.

Next year I'm planning on being much more prepared. You never know - I might even beat newspaper man.

All images: Alan Rowlette Photography

Triathlon Troubles

I've gone and done it again. I know I should know better after falling victim to it once before, but no - I stupidly signed myself up to do a triathlon.

The first time I did this was two years ago. Prompted by a moment of madness and an over zealous brother I signed up to the Dublin Try-a-tri. Fortunately I survived it, but once I had ticked if off my bucket list there it, and all training, remained.

Until this summer rolled around. Now not only have I signed up to do another one, but this one is (a) longer and (b) in my home town. My over-zealous brother said it would be really handy as I wouldn't have to travel and that I'd be mad not to do it.

And once again I was stupid enough to get swept up in the excitement.

Ten days off the event date and my thinking on this has changed drastically. Believe me when I tell you that being able to walk to the event does not in any way, shape or form balance out the fact that I am going to have to strip off a wetsuit and hop on a bike in front of a crowd made up of 'people I went to school with' combined with 'people I meet every day in Tescos'. This is not good.

Training up to now has been sporadic to say the least. I really should have factored in the school holidays and the fact that three children under 10 can't actually be left on their own before I made such an ill advised decision.

So now not only is there the whole changing-room-in-a-crowd aspect - there's the fear of not making it around the course at all, or (and it may even be worse) finishing last.

In a desperate bid not to let either of those options become a reality I've splashed out on a new bike. I'm putting all my faith in the fact that this will not only help me climb the far too numerous steep hills on the cycling course, but will also help me swim longer and run faster. Not too much to ask is it?

Sexy Bike

Of course now that I've bought it I'm going to have to justify the cost of it by continuing to do more of these fecking things aren't I?

And so it continues. Would someone ever just stop me from making decisions that I am clearly not qualified to make on my own?

Please??

Dublin City Triathlon - A race day recap

So remember that fateful decision I made a few weeks ago to do a triathlon...? Well I thought I'd do a race day rundown for anyone interested. You never know - it could be you next year :)

On Sunday morning at 6.30 I tiptoed out of the house on my way to my first triathlon.

Too tired to be properly panicked (yet) my brother and I drove in silence to Dublin, my head full of race day checklists, his full of hangover. Only on arrival did I get to appreciate the beautiful sunshine that surrounded us - a huge bonus.

The triathlon started in waves with the Olympic distance first (complete with an actual Olympian taking part) and then the Sprint distance (although anyone who calls a 600m swim, 16k cycle and 4k run a 'sprint' must be deluded). 

This meant that we were hanging around for a few hours - giving us plenty of time to get into full on panic mode. 

By this time I had a personal drip of Rescue Remedy hooked up.

The swim (600m in the infamously grubby River Liffey) was tough but after a mild anxiety attack and a few breaststrokes I finally got into my rhythm. The pre-race information of 'beware of Weils disease' and 'stay out of the reeds 'cause that where the rodents go' probably didn't help...

My poor brother either got tried of hanging around and went for a coffee or (as he says) was too busy cheering so didn't get any pictures of the bike ride. You'll have to take my word for it that it existed and I actually did it. The course ran through the Phoenix Park and was perfect.

Next up was the run and after jelly-legs at the start I actually enjoyed it. Coming into the finish and seeing my kids with their homemade flags was the perfect reward.

Image: Pixels Promotions

Dublin City Triathlon is brilliantly run by Piranha Triathlon Club.  Oh, and if anyone from there is reading this - I lost my hat and goggles and can't possibly do another one of these unless I get them back...

The Gallery: Sport. (Otherwise entitled: 'I may have made a foolish decision')

One week ago, some time in between having a drunken conversation with a (very fit) friend and a morning coffee with my (very fit) brother, I somehow made the decision to do a triathlon.

I know. My own jaw is hitting the floor as I write this and I may have broken out in a cold sweat that has nothing to do with exercise.

And just to add a little extra excitement to the fateful decision - the triathlon that I have signed up to is in 17 days 21 hours and 54 minutes.

The realisation of what I need to do has now dawned on me. Not only do I have to swim 750m in the open water, cycle 16k on a borrowed bike and then run 4k on very wobbly legs - I need to figure out how to get a wetsuit off whilst running to my bike, work out what exactly I'm supposed to wear under it before I strip off, and try not to get lost when I'm bringing up the rear of the competition with no one in sight to follow.

(Excuse me a moment whilst I hyperventilate.)

And now I've made another foolish decision by telling the world. Then again if anyone out there has any experience of triathlons and would like to offer some words of wisdom I'm all ears.

Because to be honest they're the only thing that aren't aching right now.

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