Im not really someone who you can look at for inspiration or motivation to train or get better. I am no better than any of you reading this who eat junk now and then or cant be bothered to work out as often as you know you should. I only started looking after myself recently and for one main reason. And in many ways I wish I didnt. Sounds a bit mad right? It is, i’ll explain why.
When I was younger I played a lot of sports like most guys. When I got to 18/19 those sports got less and less regular. I just found other things to do.
Aged 21 I was diagnosed with asthma stemming from my severe hayfever and that was basically the final straw in my stellar Saturday and Sunday league football career. I just stopped bothering.
And then I was pretty much sedentary for 8 years. Of course I went through the same spurts of exercise like everyone else. Gym memberships you just let run but never used. Buying weights for your house. Trying to start jogging a few times a week. But the sofa was always more enticing unfortunately.
In my 30th year my Dad decided that he, my younger brother and myself should climb Mt Kilimanjaro together. We booked it up and agreed to collect money for Help For Heroes, Save The Children and The Irish Guard Appeal. My dad kept on nagging at us to get in shape for it, but I knew as long as I could keep up with Dad’s pace that was fine. No need to get carried away lol Although he did book us in to do the Yorkshire Three Peaks on the actual day of my 30th birthday. He only managed 2 peaks before packing it in with blistered feet lol
So December came round and we flew out to Tanzania. It was a 5 day ascent and a 2 day descent. Standard route for amateurs like ourselves. Climbing Kilimanjaro isn’t difficult at all. It’s a 5 day incline hike. Beautiful scenery. Bracing fresh air. All that great stuff. But the air is thin.
On the last day of our ascent we had planned on visiting the dormant volcanic crater on the way to the highest point of the mountain, Uhuru Peak. Dad was feeling a bit wheezy and generally achey from the walking so he went directly to the peak with me and my bro due to go the longer route via the crater and then meet at the summit. About 2 hours from the peak the guides radioed each other and asked about my asthma pump as my dad was still wheezy. We thought nothing of it.
When we caught up with the guide and my dad we saw dad laying down on the rock face. As we got closer we saw he had a jacket laid over him like a shroud. I immediately knew what that meant…..
Dad had suffered from what is called High Altitude Pulmonary Edema. His breathing slowed right down and his blood oxygen dropped to such a level that he blacked out and then ceased breathing. At such an altitude it is impossible to resuscitate due to the thin air. He died peacefully in his sleep after passing out.
At that altitude it is impossible to call for helicopters for support. Again, the air is too thin for them to fly. My father had to be carried down the mountainside by the porters who were all amazing.
I carried on the 2 hour climb to Uhuru as I believed that is what Dad would have wanted. In the end we raised in excess of £10,000 for charity so he would have been very proud of his achievement.
On returning home and coming to terms with the loss I resolved with myself to take better care of the body in which I was living. I looked into a number of means of training and it was as if by fate I was made aware of Chaka by a mutual friend at the time Portia Freno. Chaka’s practises were exactly what I was looking for. Getting me outside of the sterile and almost industrial feeling of many modern gyms. Using applicable bodyweight training to make practical gains rather than superficial ones. I wasn’t training for the beach bod, I was training to ensure I was able to make the most of the all too brief time we get on this earth.
I’ve been working with Chaka for a year now. 8 years of sedentary living is a lot of rust to knock off but he seems to think my progress has been good. Me, I always feel knackered but that’s because Chaka always pushes me as far as my body is able. I did my first muscle up yesterday. With a shoulder that requires weekly physio due to scar tissue build up, that’s a big achievement for me. But there are small achievements every time we train.
I will be honest. I don’t enjoy training. I don’t get that endorphin high that people talk about who train. I feel discombobulated, drowsy, lactic acid burn, out of breath and I ache constantly. I don’t have fun training. But I do know that I have to train. I can’t just sit down and wait to get old and weak. I must train. I want to be able to play with my kids when i have them for as long as possible. I want to be able to be active when I reach 50 and 60. I want to live for as long as possible, not just survive.
Chaka has made it so that every day I make that effort I owe myself to become better. He pushes me in a way that encourages and builds my belief in what I can do. All it takes is everything you have every day of your life. And if you have ever lost anyone close to you, you will understand that giving everything you have on every day that you are still alive is the best way to honour their memory and make them proud.
Homecoming…. Candice did da ting but the ting hurt bad.
