The Year my Husband Decided to Become an Ironman

Ever since his best friend and oldest brother did the Ironman challenge two years ago, it has been rumbling around the Big Big Man’s brain.


First, trainers were bought (we never really DID trainers in our house). Then mutterings of ‘beginning training’ while I was doing my college work in the evenings. Then came an entry into a SOSPAN race (10 mile multi-terrain run)…followed by a severe bout of sciatica, so come race day, he hadn’t actually prepared for it. And BOOM. He collapsed on the ninth mile which resulted in a three day hospitalisation.


After the dented pride had healed he hit the ground running (literally), and last year he completed two half marathons and did the biking part of the Long Course weekend in Tenby (which is the Ironman triathlon spread over three days).


Yes, he acquired a road bike last year, originally to get back and fore to work. Balls. He bought it because he knew what he wanted to do.


So 2016 sees the Big Big Man doing the London Marathon (he got in on ballot, which was extremely lucky and most unexpected) and Ironman.


For anyone not au fait with Ironman, it’s a triathlon designed to instigate divorce between previously loving, happy couples.


Ok, seriously, it’s a 2.4 mile sea swim, followed by a 112 mile bike ride rounded off with a 26.2 mile run. Bonkers.


He’s also trying to raise money for Scope, because if you’re going to do this crazy stuff, you have to raise money for charity at the same time (well, I certainly think you might as well).   Cancer charities have been our priority over the last ten years, as my nan, uncle and our best man have all suffered with the disease, but seeing the work that Scope do, especially for children and their families, is amazing. I don’t believe any one charity is more deserving than another (though I am much more biased towards those that help humans, sorry, I’m species-specific for my charitable favourings), so it only seemed right to try and ‘spread the love’ as it were.


I’m incredibly proud of him already, for having the guts to decide to do it, commit to the training and put himself through it. I know I will be shaking with nerves throughout the whole damn thing, and undoubtedly cursing him when he has to go off and do a 6 hour bike ride training during the summer holidays, not to mention being grumpy with him when he won’t share a bottle of wine with me come his intense training period.


But it will be worth it.


As long as he doesn’t die. Or get hospitalised. Or wants to do it again.

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