I confess the couch described verges on the touch of hyperbole. 

I may have indulged in one or two sporting endeavours in the past. My university years were squandered messing about in boats, competing in races (even a slightly famous race on the TV!). 

Alas, I had to grow up. A job on the wards with early starts, nights and weekends precludes a regular 20 hour a week commitment to a crew. There are two problems with this: 

1. I have a metabolism that naturally wants me to about 50 stone. 
2. I like eating. Especially cake. And chocolate. And roast lamb with all the trimmings. And raspberries freshly picked from the cane. Did I mention the cake? 

So I joined a running club. Now, I am not built like Paula Radcliffe or Kelly Holmes. I certainly do not run like the aforementioned athletes. Perhaps there are running clubs that will accept only clones of Kelly Holmes as members, but Derwent Runners and Wholehealth Triathlon do not feature among them. A more friendly environment has yet to be envisaged – runners are cheered through their first mile, first 5km, first 10km, first half marathon, first marathon. All milestones are applauded with vigour regardless of whether the pace is a 4 minute mile or a 15 minute mile.  

Two friends gave themselves the endeavour of competing in a triathlon and I piggybacked onto the back of their challenge. A less than stellar stint of teenage swimming in a club equipped me with enough technique to be able to hold my own (sort of) in the swim, I didn’t fall off the bike and then it was about gritting my teeth to get through the run. I loved mixing up the sports, making things exciting… But things got really interesting when I joined a triathlon club.  

Triathletes will talk in a reverend manner about going long. It becomes a pinnacle of a triathlete career – that paradise of triumph. These heroes battle relentless miles of uncharted murky waters, punishing hours of persistent pedalling and unabated pounding of the tarmac before the final traverse to glory.  

What happens when one of these heroes invites you into their number, suggesting that little by little you might begin to emulate their feats? What happens when confidence is inspired, nutured and encouraged? A half ironman, or two or four. Traverse a mountain on a bike. A swimming marathon. 

And perhaps a challenge to run to Dover, swim the channel and bicycle to Paris.