We’re back. Back on the start line of an Ironman 70.3 (half ironman) again, this time in Salalah, Oman, a beautiful green oasis in the south of Oman by the Yemeni border. A lot has happened since our last race in Remich, Luxembourg in June, which some of you may be aware didn’t end as expected or planned. And when I say didn’t end as expected, it ended with me being airlifted from the race finish line in Remich to Luxembourg City Hospital, for blood tests, some IV drips and a night in the hospital on the grapes with a rather shouty local OAP for a roommate. After Luxembourg, we saw a doctor in London and a cardiologist in Dubai who ran extra tests and both confirmed that my body and heart were functioning well. After a few weeks of recovery and the green light from the doctors, I started to gradually build back into some easy training and I felt good. At that time, it was confirmed that I was moving back to the UK in November, back to London where I grew up and into a new job, which meant that my next race following the move would likely be in 2023. But I felt that I had unfinished business after Luxembourg, that I had built up some good fitness in the training leading into Luxembourg that I wasn’t able to show on race day and that I had an itch that needed to be scratched. I knew that there was a 70.3 (half Ironman) in Salalah, Oman at the end of September but I hadn’t yet seriously considered it, until one morning while I was spinning the legs on the turbo trainer in my flat in Dubai, I began to think: is there one more race for me before I go back to London? The timing was great, it was end of September which was enough time to get some decent training in, to build on the fitness I had gained from the training for Luxembourg. We had also identified what we believe went wrong in Luxembourg: overhydration in the days leading up to the race and a lack of electrolytes consumed during the race, resulting in depleted electrolyte stores. I completed a sweat test in Dubai in August to identify I was a salty and heavy sweater (attractive, I know) and had strong electrolyte tablets and capsules, as well as a hydration plan to ensure my electrolyte levels remained solid during training and racing. So I felt that this was another piece of the puzzle solved. The location was ideal too, a short flight from Dubai and a place that I had always heard was a beautiful part of the world. The more I thought about this race, the more I felt that the stars were aligning: the location and timing were perfect, the course and weather conditions suited me coming out the back of training in the Dubai Summer heat, the field would likely be relatively small and not as strong as European 70.3s, it would be one last chance to race in the Middle East for now before I return to London, it could be the “Salalah Swan Song”.
That was it, I felt there was something guiding me towards this race and after speaking with Majd, my girlfriend, and my family, I signed up. Now here we are stood on the start line in Salalah in the pens with my swimming hat and goggles on. As I stood there I had a big smile on my face. I was grateful that I was given this opportunity for one final race in the Middle East, the chance to potentially finish the unfinished business from Remich, the chance to itch that scratch. And off we went! I ran down the ramp and dived into the water to start the 1.8km swim, setting off for the first buoy, after which I would turn left and then follow the looped swim course around the picturesque Hawana Salalah bay. I got to the pens early to get a good position going into the water, being confident in the swim and wanting to ensure I was not stuck behind too much traffic on the course. I set off in the third row of athletes, right at the front, and after the first few hundred meters I felt good with a small group around me. As I looked up to sight, I could see there was a front pack that were flying off in the distance, no way I was going to catch them. I carried on through the water, holding a strong but what felt like a sustainable pace - where I wanted to be. I then noticed that the group around me started to thin as I pushed a little ahead of the second pack I was with. I carried on pushing, got into a nice rhythm with my stroke, sighting every six strokes and was headed for the next buoy. I then noticed that the group around me was gone and that I was now alone. “Great!” I thought, I had pushed ahead of the second pack and, while I wouldn’t be able to draft off other swimmers around me, I felt a boost of confidence at the thought that I was holding a pace which felt sustainable and was building a lead on the second pack. “This has started rather well”, I thought to myself. Until in the corner of my eye I saw a man on a kayak, one of the course marshals, heading towards me, never a good sign in a race as I am sure you fellow athletes know! I stopped as he neared and looked up. I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying but he was pointing towards a yellow object to the left, I looked at the object and then ahead at the other yellow object I was headed towards. “Oh shit!” I twigged, I was heading for the wrong buoy! Oops. I quickly thanked the marshal and headed back to the buoy that I should have been going for. It was head down and burners on to sprint to that buoy to make sure I lost as little time as possible from my rather embarrassing detour. When I got back to the correct buoy my upper body was burning from the sprint, but I didn’t feel that I had burnt too many matches in the sprint back and, to my surprise, the second pack hadn’t yet arrived. I was still a little ahead of them despite my detour. I settled back into my race pace and cracked on. Cracked on until again, about 7 minutes later, my friend on the kayak had returned and pulled up alongside me. “Not again!” I thought to myself as I stopped and looked up at him, again he pointed to a buoy that I wasn’t heading for and again I thanked him and sprinted to the correct buoy. When I got back to the correct buoy the second pack had arrived and boy was I happy to see them. I got into the middle of the pack and while the pace felt a little easier than what I thought I could push, no doubt helped by some drafting, I decided that I would stay right here and stick with this lot for the rest of the swim, not wanting to risk a third encounter with the marshal on the kayak.
We rounded the final buoy, went under the bridge and out the water I came. I clicked the watch: 32:24 it read. Okay, I thought to myself, that is slower than I hoped for with a target of 30 minutes or less, but considering it was a non-wetsuit with a bit of chop and I added some extra distance (190 meters according to the Garmin), that isn’t too bad. Looking back at the data after the race, with an average pace on the Garmin of 1:39 min/100m for my extended swim I felt the swim was okay, but considering where my swim was before the race I hoped for better. Another lesson learnt here too: know that swim course like the back of your hand before going into the water Patrick, to avoid having to rely on the marshals in the kayaks pinballing you around the course. After coming out of the water, I made sure to put the swim behind me, knowing I had only lost a few minutes which I could make up on the run. I then ran up the ramp past the crowd, looking for Majd. There she was with her “Go Patrick” t-shirt, the Salalah 70.3 edition from the “Go Patrick” collection and a big smile on her face, waving and cheering. I waved back to Majd and gave a big smile, seeing Majd and my family on the course always makes me smile and gives me that sense that I am never racing alone, that we are racing as a team.
After getting some stick from Coach Luke for “trotting” through transition in my bike shoes in Luxembourg, I put in some transition practice on the quiet road and grass area outside my flat by Southridge in Downtown Dubai (much to the confusion on my neighbors) and I had my shoes pre-clipped into the bike on race day morning, held in place with elastic bands. With a hop, skip and a jump I was on the bike, out of transition and my feet in my tri-shoes, feeling rather pleased with my overall transition. Then off I went on the bike, for the 45km out and back along the sea. There were two guys a few hundred meters ahead of me as I set off on the bike and as I looked round there were a couple within a few hundred meters behind me. I thought that despite my zig zag of a swim, I was in quite a good position as we started the 90ks. The bike is my weakness and one that I continue to work on the most and, while I still have a long way to go to get it up to the level of my swim and run, I felt more confident on the bike after the work I put in with Coach Luke before Luxembourg and leading into Salalah. I had put in some great long Saturday morning rides in training with the Ikonix guys, thanks to my dear friend Hussein who (since I didn’t have a car in Dubai) would go out of his way and wake up earlier to be able to pick me up en route. I had also learnt more about cycling and got some valuable insights from another close friend and very strong cyclist, Ben, who also kindly lent me his DT Swiss race wheels. Ben was always quick to remind me that any results I may get from racing with the race wheels on, would be in no part down to the hours of consistent, disciplined training that I put in, but that it would be 100% down to the race wheels, in Ben’s words: “It’s all about the wheels.” I had also put in some solid 70.3 specific brick sessions at the Meydan bike track in Dubai leading into Salalah, holding race power blocks on the bike in the Dubai Summer heat and running hard off of it on the treadmill, with the legs feeling good and body strong. So on the bike leg I knew the target powers I wanted to hold, as well as knowing exactly the nutrition and hydration plan I would follow.
The first 45 ks of the bike were a dream! With a God-send of a tailwind behind us, the green mountains of Salalah to the left, the sea to the right and some fast descents, I felt like I was flying. As I pedaled onwards, being pushed by the wind, I smiled to myself thinking how much I was enjoying this, just so happy to be racing again and to feel good. This was fun. This was what I missed in Luxembourg and I was so happy to be feeling that feeling again: the joy of racing when we feel strong. A few overtook me on the first 45ks, but not as many as I expected and I always feel confident that I can make up good time on the run. As we neared the 45km turn around, I started doing the maths in my head and realized that if I held this pace I would be back into T2 in under 2hr10 minutes, a good 15 minutes quicker than I planned. I’d have time for a sit down, a cup of tea and a massage in T2 and still be way ahead of schedule, I thought to myself.
That was until we got closer to the 45 km mark and I saw the guys who had just turned and were moving at what looked like a snail’s pace with a grimace smeared on each of their faces. “Uh-oh” I thought, this doesn’t look good. If these guys are struggling then I could well be in trouble. And in trouble I certainly was. I completed the U-turn at the 45 km mark, grabbed a water from the aid station and BOOM! While the tail wind on the way out felt like a God-send, I was now rudely met by a headwind from hell. The split for the first 45 ks was 1 hour 6 minutes with an average pace of 40.3 km/h, little of which I can take credit for considering how favorable the conditions were. As I was met by that headwind after the turn around I thought to myself: “Right, let’s relax and keep calm here Patrick, everyone is experiencing the same head wind so no point worrying about it, just get your head down, stay as aero as possible, focus on your power numbers, keep an eye on your heart rate and keep to the nutrition and hydration plan.” So on we pushed and, although the pace had dropped significantly with the headwind, I still felt strong. There were a few small climbs on the way back which I pushed a little harder on, enjoying climbing and having a lighter frame than most so being at a slight advantage over some on the hills. I was conscious that my power numbers were a little lower than my target race pace power but I was okay with that, my target race pace normalized power was 205-215 watts and my normalized power from the total ride was 200 watts bang on.
As, in the words of Winston Churchill, I kept buggering on, I felt the temperature and humidity dials being turned up. I could feel the heat’s intensity rising and see the sweat dripping down from my helmet, thinking to myself that I don’t want to push too hard on the bike here, as that heat and humidity will suck a lot out of you on the run, so you want to make sure you have plenty left in the tank when your feet hit the floor. Of course, after what happened when I blew up in Luxembourg and had to shuffle my way to the finish line, that was for sure in the back of my mind too. In hindsight looking back on this race, looking at my power numbers and my heart rate during the ride, I could have pushed harder on the bike and still been able to perform on the run. I felt really good, aerobically and in the legs, HR was top of zone 2 which is quite low for a 70.3 race. But I think it is natural after a race like Luxembourg, that you might hold back a little more than perhaps you need, perhaps some of you may have experienced that yourselves in a race subsequent to one where you may have blown up. I felt so good and was enjoying the bike so much that in my mind I didn’t want to lose that. I didn’t want to risk going anywhere close to where I was in Luxembourg, I didn’t want Majd and my family to go through that again, so I played it safe on the bike. But I am sure with more time in the saddle in training and more experience racing, I can build more confidence and strength on the bike to become a better triathlete.
As we neared the end of the ride I could feel it getting hotter and hotter. The sky was cloudy as the swim started, but those clouds quickly disappeared on the bike as the beating sun now bearded down on us. “This run is going to be tasty”, I thought to myself. As we came down the last 100m stretch before T2, there was one main thought in my mind: “Thank God I didn’t puncture!” Changing tubes, as Coach Luke often teases me for, is not my forte and while I have had some practice at our Ikonix training camp in Khorfakkan back in April and also spent time watching youtube videos on tube changing, I knew if I punctured that while I was confident I could change the damn thing, it would take time. Of course, that would set me back in the race, which no doubt was a concern. But my main concern was how it would look on the Ironman tracker app which Majd and my family back home in London were eagerly watching. Me coming to a stop on the bike leg, out in the middle of nowhere in Salalah, in the heat, that would not look good. Not what Majd and my family would want to see after Luxembourg and, rightly so, being a little nervous of a repeat in Oman. But thankfully, the tri Gods were kind to me today and I was off the bike and into T2 with no mechanical issues. Total time on the bike: 2hr38. Quite a lot slower than my target of 2hr25-30, while the conditions for the first 45ks were almost perfect, with 500m of elevation into a headwind for the second 45ks and the heat, I can’t be too hard on myself, but there’s room for improvement for sure.
As I came into the change tent for T2, I followed my T2 routine I had practiced on the Southridge lawn outside my flat in Dubai. Working from head down to toe then back up again: helmet off, socks on, Vaporflys on, stand up, gels and sodium capsules in the back of tri-suit and then off I went, putting on my sunglasses and cap on as I went charging out of T2, following Coach Luke’s instructions to not F about in transition and get in and out as quickly as possible, completing the transition by pulling my race bib to the front. The first few hundred meters took us around the Hawana Salalah bay, passing through the cheering crowds, along the sea and then out inland for the 10km loop. As I ran past the crowds I was looking around for Majd and there she was at the roundabout before we headed inland, smiling, cheering and waving. I waved back and told her that I would be seeing her soon and then, it was to business.
There were about 5 guys around me when I came out of T2. One of them, Tarik, I recognised from Dubai 70.3 and know from that race that he is in my age group and a good runner. I knew that we would be closely matched again today. While I didn’t know exactly where in my age group I was currently placed, from the number of guys that passed me on the bike and how old the guys around me looked, I expected at the time to currently be top 10 in my group but outside top 5 and I was confident that I could work my way through some of that field. But right now, I was focusing on taking each km at a time. I break down the half marathon into 5km chunks, then within that I break it down into 3k then 2k chunks. So as I set off, my first marker and target was 3ks, then after that 5, 7, 10 and so on working up to the 21ks. I knew straight away within that first k that with the temperature at 35 degrees and with humidity reaching 90%, that I would have to dial back my planned race pace, or face a slow and miserable last 10ks. After speaking with the wise elder statesmen leading up to the race, Coach Luke and Ben “it’s all about my wheels” Wade, they gave me the sound advice of taking those first few ks as a chance to assess the situation, see what pace feels sustainable in the conditions and not try to hold target race pace if on the day that didn’t feel sustainable in the heat and humidity. After only 1 k one of the guys in our group out of T2 suddenly came to a stop in front of me and grabbed his left leg. Must be cramp. This was a clear reminder that these conditions were not to be taken lightly. The first k I came out at 4:07 min/km which felt hard, I then dialed it back a little for the next 2 ks which were 4:15s and after assessing that this too didn’t feel sustainable, I took the decision to drop the pace a little more to 4:25-4:30, where it felt hard, felt like I was racing but importantly felt like a pace that I believed I could hold for the 21ks. My target race pace was 4:00 min/km and while it was tempting to try to push closer to that, I knew after the first few ks that if I tried to push to that pace in these conditions I would not be able to hold it in the heat and humidity and would likely blow up later in the run. I quickly realized that I would work through the field not by going out fast, but by finding that sustainable rhythm and slowly, but gradually reeling in the guys ahead of me. And that is how it went. In the first 10ks I passed a couple of guys, but it was later in the run, past the 10km mark that I felt I really made progress through the field as the guys started to slow and I was able to hold a more consistent pace. This run course was not glamorous, as we headed inland it was a long straight road and you could see and feel the heat rising off the road. This run was a brutal grind, but a grind that I loved. Thankfully, aid stations were a plenty and I made sure to get cold water in and over me, to try to keep that core body temperature cool and to keep well hydrated, popping the sodium capsules stashed away in my back pocket too.
After 15ks I could feel the hurt and the legs started to tingle, that ominous feeling of the muscles twitching that so often signals the onset of cramp. But luckily and with thanks to the sodium capsules, nutrition and hydration plan, I could keep the cramp at bay. As I got past the 15k mark, I could see from the turnarounds that the guys ahead were getting closer and closer. They were in my sights and I was out to get them. I could see Tarik, who was running well and had kept a close but consistent lead on me of around 50m, was now starting to slow and I was gaining ground. As I got into the 16th and 17th ks, the course was littered with people walking, the heat and humidity had taken many a prisoner today, but I was determined not to be one of them. My pace dropped to 4:38s and 4:39s as it really started to hurt and while I pushed to try and bring the pace back to 4:30s, those menacing thoughts started to slip into my mind: “Ease up Patrick. You’ve run well mate, you’ve made great ground on the field and you will almost certainly get a good top 10 finish in your age group. You can take these last three ks a little easier, you deserve it. Why push?” I smiled as I recognized these thoughts for what they are: self-doubt generated by the mind. I’m sure we have all been in these moments and hear these thoughts. Still being relatively inexperienced having only been in the sport for two years, I have a long way to go to develop my mental game, but I do believe that in these two years of training, racing and through a consistent daily meditation practice, I have developed an awareness to be able to acknowledge the thoughts generated by my mind, to remain distant from them when it is productive to do so and to choose more productive thoughts. So on I pushed, telling myself: “No, don’t ease up Patrick, yes you’ve run well and you’ve made good progress through this field but you have more in the tank to give. This race is not over. There are runners ahead you can catch. Just 4ks to the finish line, 3 ks and you will see Majd and that will carry you home.” And it was in those last few ks that I overtook a few more guys, one of whom was at that time second in my age group, while I was third. Not aware at the time, but there were only two world champ slots up for grabs in my age group and deciding to push on in those last few ks was what brought me into second and got me that world champs slot. 3ks and a bit more hurt later, I came back into the Hawana Salalah bay, back to the crowds, and there was Majd, smiling and cheering even more this time. When I saw her the grimace on my face was replaced with a big smile as the pain left my lungs and legs. As I then rounded the corner to come down the red carpet I was filled with emotion. Thoughts of the journey we have been on in the past two years since I started in this sport, thoughts of Luxembourg, of Majd, my family, Luke and my friends came into my mind as I smiled and sprinted my way down the red carpet to come in with a half marathon time of of 1:34:28 and an overall time of 4:50:05, a position of 19th place overall and 2nd in my age group, with a podium and a world champs spot in the bag! Not the quickest race, but in those conditions it was a time and race I am, to this day, very proud of.
So, there we have it, the Salalah Swan Song. The magical ending to my time in the Middle East. I would be returning home to London with my first podium and a slot in the 2023 70.3 Ironman World Championships in Lathi, Finland. Reflecting back on the past few months, from June to September of this year, I now believe more than ever that everything in life happens for a reason. While the race in Salalah went well, the journey to get to the start line was by no means smooth. After calling FlyDubai to book my bike on the flight we had booked from Dubai to Salalah, I was told that there was no more space for bikes on that flight or any other flight from Dubai to Salalah that week. With Salalah being a 12 hour and 30 minute drive from Dubai, my only option was to fly. After a frantic Sunday afternoon with Majd spent on SkyScanner and on the phone to airlines, we found a flight from Sharjah to Salalah with AirArabia, who I managed to convince to let me take my bike with me. When I arrived at Sharjah airport for my flight before the race, I thought the pre-race drama was over, until a complication with my work visa due to me leaving the UAE soon and my work visa not being renewed, resulted in me being held up at passport control only to be released 15 minutes before the flight was due to take off. Thinking I would not make it to Salalah and would not be able to race, I sprinted through the Sharjah terminal to my gate, putting those mid-week treadmill interval sessions and speed work to good use, to arrive at the desk just in time to catch the final bus to the plane. Looking at these two events in isolation, they could appear to be negative events, things happening against me. You might believe that I was unlucky these things happened and just fortunate to have been able to just about make the flight. But I choose to see it a different way and as part of a bigger picture which started back in Remich, Luxembourg when this series of individual and key events occurred which brought me to Salalah and to the podium and world champs slot.
Luxembourg didn’t go to plan because I was supposed to race in Salalah. If Luxembourg went exactly as planned I believe I would have done well in the race, but because of the much stronger competition in European races I would not have made the podium and I would not have been able to win a world champs slot. If Luxembourg had gone to plan I also crucially would not have raced in Salalah, it was that sense of unfinished business because of what happened in Luxembourg that brought me to Salalah. I was not supposed to fly with FlyDubai from Dubai to Salalah, because if I flew from Dubai airport, where I would have had the same complication with the visa, being a much bigger airport than Sharjah, if I was let through with 15 minutes before the flight I would not have made it. These events starting in Remich did not happen against me, they happened for me. There was a purpose and reason behind each of them. Of course, at the time when I was lying in the hospital bed in Luxembourg City Hospital in a hospital gown and with a drip in my arm while my family were at the hotel, of course it was hard to see that there was a purpose and reason behind this. Of course, when I was frantically searching SkyScanner and calling airlines on Sunday afternoon with Majd trying to work out how on earth we could get me and the bike to Salalah, it was hard to see that there was a purpose and a reason behind this too. I am by no means perfect and at times, like all of us, I experience feelings of dejection, I become overwhelmed and stressed, in the moment I don’t always remain calm and am able to remind myself to stay positive. We are all human. But what I do try to do is to cultivate that awareness to be able to catch myself when I do become dejected, overwhelmed or stressed, to acknowledge that and to remind myself that these situations are not the end of the world, that there are positives in all situations and while those positives may not immediately be clear, over time, they will reveal themselves. It took from June 19th to September 24th for the purpose of mine and my family’s suffering in Remich to be revealed and the road in between was by no means an easy one. But the important thing is that we stayed on course, we did our best to stay positive, to keep working hard and to believe that good things come to those who persevere. My story is by no means unique, we all experience setbacks, overwhelm, stress and suffering in our lives. There are of course setbacks much more serious than what happened to me in Luxembourg, but I believe that we can ease that suffering from daily stressors and bigger setbacks in our lives by choosing to stay positive and to trust that if we stay on course, the reasons for our suffering will be revealed. But to do this, we have to first believe that there will be positives and then we have to keep our eyes, minds and hearts open, to be able to see them when they do arrive.
So what now for Team Patrick? The A Race for the coming year is, of course, Finland world champs at the end of August 2023 and in the lead up to that, I will be racing some local races in the UK in Spring to build that momentum and race craft leading into Finland. But right now, as I am writing these final few paragraphs I am sat in my kitchen at home, on Hazlewell Road in Putney, London with August 2023 a long way away. It is Sunday morning in early November and the rest of the household is asleep. It is dark outside, I am wrapped in a warm blanket with a freshly brewed hot cup of coffee beside me, accompanied by the ticking of the clock and the light, methodic tapping of the rain on the windows outside. As I look forward to the months ahead, a quote from the famous Greek Stoic philosopher, Epictetus, is at the forefront of my mind: “We must undergo a hard winter training and not rush into things for which we haven’t prepared.” While I am quite sure that Epictetus of the first and second century AD was not referring to winter triathlon training, I believe there is great relevance to be drawn from his quote. Epictetus was echoing the Stoic concept of purposefully and voluntarily placing yourself in uncomfortable situations, in any area of life, in order to grow and be more prepared for the challenges of the future. In Epictetus’ time, this could have been applied to Greek soldiers in training, since wars were not fought in winter, but winter was spent preparing, honing their craft and laying down the foundations, to be prepared for the battles in spring. I believe this same concept could perhaps be applied as a lens through which to see the winter months for us athletes in colder climates with no immediate races ahead. To see winter as the time to get to work on ourselves, to sure up those weaknesses, to build strength and knowledge, to become hardened during the winter months and lay those foundations, so that when we come out the other side in Spring we are stronger and have that solid foundation on which to build specific race training for the races in Spring and into Summer. So these next few months are about just that - getting wintered. It is time to set up the turbo trainer in the basement, to rise early to put in some hard indoor bike sessions to get to work on my weaknesses and get stronger on the bike. It is time to put on my winter jacket and head down to the Putney Leisure Centre in the dark for early morning gym sessions to build a stronger, more robust and resilient body. It is time to lace up those running shoes, stick on that head torch and head out into the dark, cold, wet winter mornings to keep that base ticking over. It is time to put on the gloves and waterproof jacket on Saturday mornings and get out for those long, wet rides. It is time to make my mark down at the Putney Leisure Centre pool to show the local biddies that there is a new sheriff in town. It is time to put in the work during these winter months ahead to become a physically and mentally stronger, more well-rounded athlete, to lay down the foundations now to then come out the other side well prepared for those battles in Spring, building into Finland in August.
People often think that we are mad to get up at the crack of dawn to train before work, while the rest of the world sleeps. It is true, this lifestyle is not glamorous or sexy and after a week in London in November I realise that now more than ever and I think if you saw the Putney Leisure Centre changing rooms you would agree with me! The early nights, the early rises, the consistency. It is, I believe, in large part a simple life. But I also believe that there is beauty in the simplicity. Like many things in life that are unpleasant in the moment but gratifying in the future, there is so much joy to be found on the other side of those early nights, early morning alarms and in getting your body moving when you don’t feel like it. There is joy to be found in putting yourself in uncomfortable situations and seeing yourself come out the other side stronger. There is joy to be found in making mistakes, in learning. There is joy to be found in the confidence you gain from seeing what you are truly capable of. There is joy to be found in seeing the daily progress, however slight that may be. There is joy to be found in the amazing people you meet and train with, people from all backgrounds and walks of life that without the sport, you would not have had the pleasure of sharing your time with. There is joy in the grind. And when you begin to enjoy the grind, the beauty is that it doesn’t feel like a grind. While I have only been in the sport for 2 years, I am beginning to see the joy that can be found, not just in triathlon but in any area of life where we challenge ourselves, put ourselves in uncomfortable environments and put ourselves to the test, as Epictetus encouraged us to do. This doesn't have to be through big challenging goals and doesn’t have to be in the athletic arena, it can be simply going just a little outside our comfort zone. Because when we go outside our comfort zone, that zone becomes bigger and bigger. We grow. And in that place of growth and through the process of realizing our potential in any area of life, I have come to believe, lies the deepest joy, fulfilment and happiness, not just for yourself, but for those around you who may see that joy and be inspired to take action themselves. And that is the ultimate joy I believe, seeing others inspired to take action and go through that same process, who then in turn inspire that very same feeling in others. And so the ripple effect goes on.
For now, it is goodbye Dubai. Goodbye sunny runs along Kite Beach. Goodbye riding in Al Quadra and the beautiful hills in Fujairah. Goodbye Friday morning sea swims. Goodbye Huna swim squad sessions at Jumeirah Beach Hotel under the Burj Al Arab. Goodbye t-shirts, flip flops and vests and hello winter. Yes, of course I will miss all of these things and the amazing people in Dubai. Yes, I am quickly learning it is certainly that little bit tougher getting out of bed in the morning to train before work when it is cold, dark and wet outside. But I don’t mind that, I will embrace that. Because, as I am learning more and more, on the other side of that there is joy and happiness and with that realization I am learning to embrace the grind, to love the grind. When I put my pen down now, I will be lacing up my running shoes, putting on my waterproof jacket, gloves and beanie and heading outside for a long run. It will be cold. It will be wet. It will be unpleasant. Good. Because it is time to get wintered.
