WELCOME TO HELL WEEK
Can three normal blokes complete six gruelling iron-distance triathlons in six days? We tag along as support crew to find out
Spring 2021 and the UK is in lockdown. Again. With races cancelled, sporting venues closed and absolutely nothing going on, the 220 team are just about going stir crazy when we receive a message from Dan at our local swim venue Lake 32. “Got some chaps coming over, you want to meet them? Triathletes. They’re taking on some kind of crazy challenge.” Little did we know then how this would spiral… It turns out the lads in question – three friends JP, Matt and Rob – are attempting six iron-distances in six days to raise money for a local charity, the Abel Foundation. Using Lake 32 as a base for the swim each morning they’ll then ride loops of the local counties before running laps of an eight-mile course to complete each marathon. The final day will take them on a bike and run route from the lake to the charity’s HQ in Andover and the finish line. It’s an interesting idea and we’re hooked. Wind forward to Sunday 23 May and we’re nestled into our lakeside front seat as the talking stops, wetsuits are pulled on and shit starts to get real…
“JP AND MATT AGAIN COMPLETE THE FULL DISTANCE, ALTHOUGH A DEAD PIKE SPOTTED ON THE FAR PERIMETER OF THE LAKE BED CAUSES CONSTERNATION”
SUNDAY: WEATHERING THE STORM
05:30 220 are waiting as the race convoy rolls into the Lake 32 car park. The boys hop out, wetsuits under Dryrobes, headphones on as they try to get in the zone. They’re quiet but spirits are high. The support team give them a moment lakeside as they pull on their kit then quietly slip into the 13.4° C water. It’s early for this journo. Very early. The coffee is black and strong and we’re dunking stale croissants in it as we try to wake up. What comes next is rather surprising. The lads seem relaxed, almost lacking in urgency as they freestyle round the lake checking in with each other regularly. The camaraderie is unbelievable but, in unusually cold temperatures for May, we’re concerned about them not getting their heads down and wonder if the swim will be the kicker for them. After 92 minutes, though, they’re out of the lake and into the ad-hoc physio room. Although time is a factor in this challenge, the boys are also mindful of keeping their bodies together so time has been built in for physio and fuelling. They’re on PB and jam sarnies, Red Bull and bananas but it’s apparent that Matt, who has the look of a pro cyclist about him, is struggling with the cold. Half an hour later, it’s time to head out on the 112-mile bike route. I notice Matt’s knee is still twitching as he shivers but morale is high and his family are there to wave them off. “It’s not sunny Daddy, why have you got sunglasses on?” asks his daughter Evie. An explanation is given of dust, flies, wind and watery eyes. But as we look skywards we realise Evie’s got a point – it’s definitely not sunny and her question turns out to be prophetic… 16:00 That afternoon we’re at home watching the driving rain and wondering how the lads are getting on. Turns out, they’re finding it tougher than anyone expected. The torrential downpour and strong winds are proving impossible to battle against. Lightning ignites the skies, thunder rumbles, roads are flooding and the last straw is a puncture for Rob. The team limp into HQ cold and wet after a 9hr ride. The solution is a mixed blessing – the lads are put on treadmills for safety. It might look like an easy option, but psychologically we’d choose a run in the rain over hours sweating on a treadmill any day. Day one is done at 00:30 and everyone’s knackered.
MONDAY: THE WALL
05:30 Day two and lessons have been learnt from day one. Leading the support crew is Tom Dickinson (brother of pro triathlete Sam Dickinson), a sports science and performance consultant based at Solent University, Southampton, who heard about the challenge and got involved along with his crack team of experts and students. Tom decides Matt and JP should swim together today while Rob, who’s fighting fatigue, needs a separate pacer, so we jump in to help. After about 3,000m, though, it’s obvious something’s wrong as he’s showing all the warning signs of extreme fatigue, so the decision is made to end his swim early and give him a rest day. JP and Matt again complete the full distance, although a dead pike spotted on the far perimeter of the lake causes consternation. 11:30 Matt and JP are once more looking strong on the bike today. Rob meanwhile has been told to rest and refuel ahead of tomorrow as it’s suspected his day-two bonk may have been down to not fuelling. Later in the week, nutritionist Molly joins the team in person to cook for them and encourage them to fuel. “Getting enough calories in them in general is a challenge,” she says. “You don’t really want to eat when you’re that fatigued or bored of eating the same thing. So, we try to utilise things like liquid calories. Ice cream has been working well, too.
And banana milkshakes. Things that are easy to ingest and contain plenty of sugar and calories. Plus salty food, like Pringles.” Day two passes without much more in the way of incident. Matt and JP have two full irons under their belts and only a light layer of physio tape to show for it.
TUESDAY: KEEPING SANE
Day three and Rob is a man on a mission, determined to complete the full iron-distance after his day-two bonk. A good pace is set with 3,800m ticked off in 93mins. In less positive news, the dead pike is still there and starting to give Matt the horrors. “Every lap I see it,” he tells me. I point out his sighting must be world-class in that case, but later find out that JP, amused by the situation, has been nudging him towards it so he can’t avoid it. On a more serious note, the cold is starting to have a real impact on Matt so the crew decide to send Rob, fresh after a rest day, to complete the new bike course with physio Jonny, while Matt and JP hit the turbo to try and warm up before a road leg later in the day. Tom warns us, though, that we shouldn’t expect the most serious of pain caves. “What you’ve basically got, is a couple of 30-something adults in a holiday cottage, sat on turbos and playing games to take their minds off the pain.” 00:45 With better weather tonight’s marathon is on the road again. JP and Matt set a good pace while Rob, who is struggling with his Achilles, is with the support team. At midnight we see a video of him doing what we can only describe as the ‘Ironman hobble’, pleading with everyone to donate to the charity. He finishes as Tom makes the difficult decision to withdraw him. “He was putting a massively brave face on it in the last 10 miles of that
THURSDAY: FINISH IN SIGHT
run,” he tells us. “The mental strength he showed there was second to none – he was in a lot of pain but he got it done and managed to tick that box to say he completed day three.”
WEDNESDAY: CREW GOALS
As the challenge goes on, we’re realising it’s way more than three average blokes making up this team. The experts, physiotherapist and student sports therapists on the sport and exercise therapy degree programme, nutritionist and lake crew are providing a superb service. Every time the lads aren’t moving there are experts getting hands on them and food being shovelled down. One of the team gets an acupuncture needle inserted into a knee cap, which makes us wince. On the plus side, there’s chocolate milkshake for everyone... 21:00 We’re also finding the challenge gets under your skin. 220 swam with the team this morning, now we’re back to do a couple of hours of running. There’s a full ‘super’ moon this evening so the lake is also organising a night swim in aid of Parkinson’s UK. As the lads run through the site, a hundred or so swimmers and staff are lining the path. They’re cheering as glow sticks hung on fence posts light the way. We join them with 14 miles left to run and fall into a rhythm jogging through the night on deserted country roads, cracking jokes and watching out for bats. Coming over the brow of a hill, we’re silenced by the sight of the moon rising orange over the horizon. It’s a magical moment, disturbed by the sound of a familiar tune. It takes me a moment to recognise it, then I realise it’s Matt, singing the music to Button Moon. 15: 45 We arrive at race HQ after a morning’s ‘real’ mag work to find Matt and JP on a bike break. Matt’s looking stoked to be cycling in the sun, while JP is sat on the doorstep in bib shorts, tucking into the biggest sausage roll we’ve ever seen. “Day five has gone alright. I think we’re on track for a good day today, but you never know when that drop is going to hit you,” he says. “Last night we got to the end of the marathon and were so tired we couldn’t lift our legs. Matt tripped on a stick that literally was that big [holds fingers a couple of inches apart]. For some reason we found that hilarious. The fatigue makes you a bit loopy as well.” As evidence, 220 are later shown a video of Matt and JP sat on their physio couches, giggling like nutters. It’s the oddest of things that get you through a challenge like this.
“MATT’S LOOKING STOKED TO BE CYCLING IN THE SUN, WHILE JP IS SAT ON THE DOORSTEP, TUCKING INTO THE BIGGEST SAUSAGE ROLL WE’VE EVER SEEN”
FRIDAY: 24-HOUR FINALÉ
06:00 Since it’s the final day, everyone wants to be back in the lake. 220 are pacing Rob, who’s been given the okay from the team to swim. 1,900m in though and he’s in pain so decides to call it a day. The coaching team also decide to cut Matt’s swim short as his body simply can’t handle the cold on top of a week of extreme fatigue. We join JP for the last loop and as an exercise in determination, it’s humbling to see. He’s still moving but it’s an effort, and looking under the water we can see he’s getting no real purchase with each stroke. Mental grit is getting him through. “Morale-wise we’re buzzing,” he tells us afterwards. “I think myself, Matt and Rob are so overwhelmed by the fact that this has become something so much bigger and by everything that everyone has done. It’s become a community. I’m not being cheesy, but I think there’s going to be a massive gap in my life when this is over.” In typical 666 fashion nothing is easy and the final day’s cycle to Andover is marked by traffic problems, closed roads and an emergency call to the support team to collect them and drive them through a stretch that would have been impossible to cycle. We join the team that night in Andover, just in time for the second half of the marathon-distance run. We make a surreal bunch, jog/ walking with various support crew joining Matt and JP for laps. Many of us are wearing head torches and high viz jackets that make us look like a strange, limping, group of construction workers (or late night ravers) and we attract some odd looks as we enter the small hours. A car stops to ask if we’ve seen a friend of a friend last seen in a nightclub (that’s a no). Under a bridge we pass two gentlemen drinking cider and listening to hard house. They don’t crack a smile. It’s the weird conversations that keep the mind off the pain, though, and luckily this team have got plenty of them. Physio Jonny regales us with stories involving canoes, jumping in bushes and trips to A&E, none of which are suitable for this magazine. 04:00 The group of runners have split up due to physio/fuel needs and, as the sun starts to rise, I find myself sitting on a kerb with Matt waiting for the others. It’s one of those bittersweet moments, as although we’re glad to reach the finish, nobody wants to break the spell. Two things happen next. One, Matt’s Garmin starts buzzing as his morning alarm goes off. “Time to get up and swim, then yeah?” he laughs. Yep, the final day has taken these battered and broken bodies so long that as we near the finish of the last iron distance it’s back to their usual race wake-up time. Second, we get word from the support car that Rob, determined to finish with the team, has donned the charity’s bear costume for the big moment. Sure enough, we’re soon treated to the surreal sight of a Bungle-like figure lolloping over to join us… Laughter turns to focus as the group begin running together again towards the finish. With the last few hundred metres to go they up the pace and I’m reminded of the determination that has seen them this far. Injuries are temporarily forgotten as they sprint towards the finish, past the cheering support crew and into the arms of waiting family. Champagne is opened, photos taken and thankyou speeches made. For a few minutes, the car park of an industrial estate in Andover is as emotional and celebratory as any finish line. With that, it’s all over. The massage tables are dismantled. The packs of Compeed are packed away. Was this really hell week, though? In terms of the gruelling six days of endurance the lads put themselves through, absolutely – and they’ve got the shredded feet to prove it. But over the days it quickly became so much more than a sporting challenge – it became a mission for a group of people, thrown together but quickly becoming a close little family, determined to get three average lads to somewhere incredible. We have memories that will last a lifetime, unbreakable friendships and a story that will stand the test of time. In the end, Hell Week became a melting pot for something truly remarkable.
“ROB’S DONNED THE CHARITY’S BEAR COSTUME AND WE’RE SOON TREATED TO THE SURREAL SIGHT OF A BUNGLE-LIKE FIGURE LOLLOPING OVER TO JOIN US”