“You will love the awe inspiring beauty of this breathtaking volcanic island, the magnetic charm and hypnotic appeal of both the and the race, often described as the of .” Lanzarote ironman website

And the small print – “2.2mile swim, 112 mile cycle and 26.2 mile run” to complete while taking in the above ‘breathtaking’ beauty of the island.

Well, after reading the above description last July – Sold! Now with less than 4months to go from writing this – I am not so sure, the small print is haunting me. Trying to fit all the training with a busy time at work is not so easy – but I have totally brought it on myself thinking I needed a challenge and distraction from the paper pushing – I certainly have it and actually my masochistic streak for putting my body through a bit of pain is shining and I am enjoying it all! Yes anyone who knows me has probably realized insanity crept in a long time ago!

The one downside is something had to give with all this training – the social life has stopped. I have found that going to bed at 5am and then getting up to train a few hours later does not make for a pleasant experience – vodka is not the best liquid for hydrating one’s body.

I have the perfect training ground in Donegal – plenty of ‘tight’ hills for cycling up, my Dad who is my cycling buddy and for someone who almost 60 is pretty nippy on the bike, years of stamina built into legs that go like pistons uphill. The joy is where there is an up-hill there is a down-hill and always good for an adrenalin rush, that is until some bloody sheep dog thinks a bike might be a fun chase, not an ideal situation to be in at 30mph when you feet are stuck to the peddles.

My runs are either round the hills or on the beach which is fantastic – even in howling winds and rain. Beanie, as seen in the above photo, keeps me company on the runs and is a great pace-maker.

Swimming is the tedious part in a pool – despite several swims in the sea over Christmas; even I find it impossible to stay in for long! The pool is one of the only ones in the North-West of Ireland and has all sorts in it, from roaring children to the local diving school who arrive in their flippers – all a bit hazardous!

So while I am in my little world of Lycra, (one grows to love it) pain, (everyday) sweat, (glowing) blood (possibly due to angry sheep dogs while on the bike) and tears (most certainly on the day). Spare me a thought and all you have to do is to give what you can to this fantastic charity.