Talking About It vs Doing It
Before anything else, I should say this. Once again, my wife Katie has been fully supportive of this madness. Her only concern is my weak knee, the one I smashed up a few years back when I came off my bike because the Port of Felixstowe forgot to put salt down when it was icy. Fair concern, in all honesty. But still, she’s backing me all the way.
I’d been talking about doing a triathlon for years.
Years.
And that’s all it ever was. Talking.
At the December Grosvenor Quiz I mentioned it, almost off-hand, to two friends, Gemma and Louise. Not a big announcement. Just one of those “I keep thinking about…” moments.
Their response was immediate.
“DO IT.”
No caveats. No gentle encouragement. No “maybe start with something smaller.” Just do it.
So the very next morning, while that conversation was still ringing in my ears, I signed up. No backing out. No overthinking. I went straight in with the Super Sprint:
- Swim: 300m
- Cycle: 20.5km
- Run: 3km
Or, in old money, because all this kilometre nonsense does my head in, “a swim that sounds short, a bike ride that isn’t, and a run that feels longer than it looks.”
Starting Before I Was Ready
The original plan was to start training in January. Sensible. Neat. Organised.
But then I thought, why waste weeks?
So I started immediately. Or at least, what passes for immediately.
My first proper effort was 10 lengths at Felixstowe pool followed by a 4.71-mile walk.
That almost killed me.
Christmas week followed, which somehow went better on paper than it felt at the time. Three swims, 21 miles on the bike, and 9 miles walked. Not bad. Not brilliant. But movement is movement.
Then Christmas and New Year arrived properly and derailed things, as they tend to do. Over ten days I managed just 12 lengths in the pool. Whoops.
The first full week of January wasn’t exactly heroic either. 13 miles walked, one swim. Last week was a house move, so nothing recorded at all.
This week, however, things picked up again. Another swim, 12 lengths and 30 seconds knocked off my PB, and just under 20 miles on the bike and it’s only Wednesday!
Progress, even if it’s messy.
Swimming From Panic to Progress
Swimming is getting easier. That’s not something I expected to say.
I’ve never been a swimmer. I stop. I start. I breathe badly. I overthink it. But the stoppage time is reducing, the rhythm is improving, and the pool no longer feels like an enemy.
At this stage, anything that feels “less awful” counts as a win.
Advice, Not Boot Camp
One of the smartest accidental bonuses in all this has been Gemma. The same Gemma who told me to stop talking and actually sign up also happens to be a mighty fine competitive swimmer and runner.
Which means, when I’m unsure about something, I’ve got someone sensible to go to for advice rather than just guessing and hoping for the best.
She’s honest, direct, and very good at telling me what not to do, which might be even more useful than what to do. No whistles, no shouting, just proper, practical guidance when I need it.
Chaos First, Structure Next
The first six weeks have been haphazard. Christmas, New Year, moving house. All legitimate disruptions. All excuses if I let them be.
The next phase is different.
The next 11 weeks will be about structure and frequency. Not hero sessions. Not punishing myself. Just consistency.
Why 11 weeks?
Because on Saturday 11th April I plan to take part in the Felixstowe Park Run.
That will either kill me or confirm that this whole thing wasn’t such a ridiculous idea after all.
Time, Reality, and Why This Matters
Fitting all this in isn’t straightforward. I’ve got a full-time job, I help run a radio station, I run quizzes, and I organise charity events. Time is precious, and something always has to give.
So why add a triathlon?
And why fundraise for Felixstowe Radio?
Because almost three years ago, we nearly folded.
A mass exodus of presenters to a rival station, combined with a lack of incoming funds, left things on a knife edge. What saved us was a newly formed board of directors putting in countless unpaid hours, and a community of generous people supporting us through advertising, show sponsorship, and station sponsorship.
We’ve ridden out the worst of it. But I don’t believe in resting on laurels.
If we ask others to support us, we should also be prepared to put ourselves on the line.
And already, there have been some genuinely wonderful donations to the GoFundMe page. Proper heart-warming stuff. It means more than people probably realise and it adds another layer of motivation on the days when the sofa feels very persuasive.
If you fancy contributing, the link is here: https://gofund.me/423695a86
No pressure. Just appreciation.
Pushing Limits Literally
Which brings me to the uncomfortable truth.
According to medical experts, I’m clinically obese.
So this isn’t about chasing medals or pretending I’m an athlete. It’s about pushing myself into places I never thought I’d reach, publicly, honestly, and for something that matters.
Talking about doing a triathlon is easy.
Signing up? Harder.
Training? Harder still.
But for the first time in years, I’ve stopped talking and started doing.
And that feels like the most important step of all.
