Once upon a time, I was the fastest (and cockiest) year 5 in the county. After breaking the county year 5 600m record I asked Mum: "how do I enter the Olympics?" She pointed me to the Athletics Club. Preferred hurdles and high jump but for some reason I ended up racing the 800m. Was then persuaded to do the County Cross-country champs, and despite many moans was thrown to the start of the Inter-counties and English Schools. I don't know why I did a Triathlon that summer, or who suggested it but I wish they suggested trying Snooker.
Unfortunately I ended up in a sport that involved a monumental amount of physical pain and if I ever work out who is responsible for that I would like to inflict a monumental amount of physical pain on them. The annoying thing about Triathlon is there are three sports, which means when I'm sick and tired of one of them, I have another sport that keeps me hooked.
A million hours of training later and I'm 19, trying to make this work. I've taken a gap year to try and catch up and compensate for injuries and heading to uni in September 2014 to continue my quest to compete in the Olympics.How ever much suffering is involved in training and racing, for some strange reason I like it, sometimes. Rarely. Almost never. But I want to succeed in the sport that chose me.