Event: Triple Ironman World Championships
Location: Fontanil, France (near Grenoble at the foot of the Alps)
Date: May 1995
Distances: 7.2 mile swim, 336 mile bike, 78 mile run (non-stop)
Support Crew: My dad (Vic), my friend Trevor (T-man), my friend Roland from Switzerland and employees from the local company ETDE
Number of Competitors: 50

Here is my account of the race.

I had always realised that I would never be the best at the single Ironman distance (2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, 26 mile run). I was good and had reached a good standard, but I knew I could do even better if I moved up in distance.

So when I read in a triathlon magazine about the triple Ironman I felt very excited. I knew it was a race I could do well in. This was February 1995. I had less than 4 months to train for it.

Training
I wasn’t sure what training to do so basically just did my normal Ironman training of 10 miles swimming per week, 250 miles cycling per week and 60 miles running. But to gain confidence I did 3 crucial sessions.
- I did the full 7.2 mile swim in training just to make sure I could do it.
- I did a 10 hour bike ride the day after a 24 hour flight back from Australia.
- I stayed awake for 40 hours to get used to the sleep deprivation I would experience in the race.

The Journey There
We decided to travel there by train. I lived in London at the time, so firstly had to catch the tube to Waterloo with my dad and T-man. We then travelled by train Dover and by ferry to Calais in France. The next leg was a train journey to Paris. We had the misfortune to share a carriage with some English football fans (hooligans) who were on their way to Paris to watch Arsenal play. They were blind drunk, swearing and being sick. I felt embarrassed to be English.
The last part of the journey (minus the football fans) was a much quieter and more pleasant experience. We eventually arrived in Grenoble late in the evening and were met by Roland and the guys from ETDE, who took us to our hotel. After such a long journey we crashed out more or less straight away.

The Day Before
A very frantic day spent getting my bike set up, all my food, drink and equipment ready, a tour of the bike course, a race briefing and eventually the pasta party in the evening, by which time I was absolutely exhausted. It wasn’t until about 9 p.m that we finally left the party to get some some sleep. I had a headache. I noticed the weather had turned extremely cold and rain threatened. The forecast for race days were not good at all. I absolutely hate the cold and went to bed a worried man. I had not had time really to think about the race up until that point as the day had been so busy. It suddenly occurred to me that I was about to undertake a huge endurance feat. I mean 7.2 miles of swimming, followed by a 336 mile cycle and a 78 mile run non-stop. Between 36-50 hours of continuous exercise. However, despite the worries, my fatigue soon meant I was in a deep, deep sleep. It would be the last sleep for a while.

Race Day
The weather had deteriorated even more overnight. We could no longer see the huge mountains that surround Fontanil and they were obscured by huge, dark rain clouds. Not a good omen. My nerves meant that I could not eat much for breakfast. I tried to stay focussed by listening to upbeat music on my walkman. Before long it was time to drive to the swimming pool. The 50 competitors would be swimming in 3 different pools before cycling back to Fontanil to begin the first of 45 laps of about 12km. Bike shoes would then be exchanged for running shoes and 30 laps of just over 4km.

The journey to the start was not good. We got lost and eventually arrived at the start with only half an hour to spare. By this time however, my nerves had gone and I felt a tremendous sense of excitement. I had trained hard and despite being an unknown at this distance, I was confident that I could do well. With my wetsuit and goggles on, I gave my dad a hug and jumped in the pool. I was ready.

I was sharing a lane with 2 other competitors. I shook their hands just before the gun went and wished them luck on their long journey. At the stroke of 9 a.m we were off. No mad sprint because it would use up precious energy. This race would be a test of patience as much as mental and physical strength and endurance.
Immediately I settled in behind the Belgian competitor, Rene. By swimming directly behind him I was saving up to 30 % of my energy. He was going at a good pace and I was happy to stay there. Every 2km I would quickly stop for a quick energy drink and a bite of a banana. It is vital to keep your energy levels topped up in a race of this length. Rene kept a steady pace the whole way and I felt comfortable. Before I knew it I was told I only had 2 laps to go. With a great sense of relief I hauled myself out of the pool in a time of 3.29hours. One leg down, two to go!

The Bike
I felt a bit disorientated when I got out and took my time getting changed. The weather was still cold and wet so I made sure I wrapped myself up well. I received a big blow when I went to put my walkman on. An official rushed up to me and said that walkmans were not allowed during the bike leg. I was gutted as I find music essential when riding long distances. I get bored very easily and so need music to distract and motivate me. Despite this I jumped on my bike for the ride to Fontanil where I would begin 45 laps of misery. I had a police motorcycle escort as I pedalled through Grenoble. For the first 10km I felt sluggish as I attempted to find some sort of rhythm after the swim. I also gobbled down some fig rolls and some energy drink. Behind me my support car, manned by the guys from ETDE and my dad, T-man and Roland, enthusiastically honked the horn to encourage me.

Once in Fontanil I began the first of my laps around the undulating 12km circuit. I had finished the swim in 13th place, way behind the American John Quinn, who had recorded an incredible 2.38 hours.
I couldn’t believe the speed of some of the riders early on. As it was my first ultra distance event I felt I should err on the side of caution and take it easy early on. There was plenty of time later to pick the pace up. The weather continued to deteriorate and every few laps I would be forced to quickly change out of my freezing, sodden clothes. A bit of a waste of time as my new clothes would immediately become wet again.

For the first half of the ride I was hovering around 14th or 15th place. But as darkness fell and the weather got even colder and wetter, things began to change. During the night fatigue really begins to set in, and if an athlete is not strong mentally, self-doubt can creep in during the loneliness of the night. With the weather absolutely awful, the prospect of another 10 hours on the bike and then a 78 mile run afterwards can become too much for even the strongest person.

I continued to feel reasonable, although I was extremely cold. By this stage the Frenchman Fabrice Lucas had taken the lead with a fabulous piece of power cycling. John Quinn had started to suffer and would eventually quit. But I did not care what position I was in. I was just concentrating on myself. In races of this severity you cannot waste time and energy thinking about the opposition.
My crew did a marvellous job of feeding me and giving me new clothes. I had long since run out of dry clothes, yet miraculously all these new, warm clothes kept appearing from nowhere. With 5 laps to go my crew informed me that during the night I had moved up from 14th to 4th position. But there was also talk that the organisers were thinking of stopping the race as conditions had become so bad. Eventually, the organisers decided to let the race continue, much to my relief. On the last lap of the bike ride I felt a tremendous sense of relief. After 21 hours and 10 minutes of cycling I eventually reached the transition area. My dad and Roland helped me off the bike. But I could hardly move. My feet felt like blocks of ice.

After a quick shower I put on about 6 layers of clothing before heading out, to fantastic applause, for the start of the 30 lap, 78 mile run.

The Run
But I was not in a good way. Towards the end of the ride I had eaten some dodgy pasta which had made me feel nauseous. After 2 miles of the run I could hold sick at bay no longer. In full view of the TV camera I put my fingers down my throat and threw up everywhere. I felt better but it meant I was running on empty.
At no stage early on in the run did I even think about winning. However, despite my sickness it was obvious I was gaining on the leaders. My crew became very excited. But I was in a desperate state. I continued to be sick, could no longer take in any fluid or food and my quads had completely seized up.

With 35 miles to go I was still in 4th, but was right behind the others- Lucas, Vignal (France) and fellow Englishman Seedhouse.
As the Frenchmen faltered I moved into 2nd place, just behind Seedhouse. My nausea was still there and I was in tremendous pain. However, I was still moving forward, one painful step at a time. With 13 miles to go I saw Seedhouse right in front of me. He was being held up by his support crew and looked in a terrible way. I sprinted past him. I was in the lead. I took stock of the situation. I was in the lead in the World Championships. Years before I had just been an average athlete, but I had progressed this far. I had a new spring in my step and forgot temporarily about my aches and pains.

Just as my crew started to congratulate me on winning I heard that Seedhouse had recovered and was chasing after me. I couldn’t believe it. However, with 3 miles to go there he was, right behind me. I could not stay with him as he surged past me with incredible power. With that my body just seized up. I was beaten.

The Finish
Despite getting pipped at the post I was still delighted. With 400 metres to go a Union Jack was thrust into my hand and my loyal support crew joined me. We had been to hell and back in the preceding 37 hours, but it was about to come to an end.
With great joy and to great cheering from the huge crowd, I eventually crossed the line, 2nd in 37.58 hours. 2nd in the world. Amazing. I was too tired to talk or walk, and had to be carried to the medical centre. I needed to give a urine sample for a drug test but was so dehydrated I was unable to go. I kept falling asleep, but the doctor kept waking me up. He needed his sample. Eventually, I was able to manage it. With that my fantastic crew carried me to the car and then took me to my hotel. Still in my running gear they put me into bed. I fell asleep immediately into the deepest slumber of my life. But I had done it. Despite my narrow loss I was proud of my incredible effort.

The Moral
I had always been an average athlete. However, I had commitment, belief and determination. I had shown that I could succeed through perseverance. I had achieved something very special. Hard work and effort bring its rewards. This can be applied to anything in life.