My Story

I am a fat guy and always will be in the same way they say that “once an alcoholic; always an alcoholic”.  Eventually I got upset about my failing health and ballooning body frame so decided to change things for the better.  Some people sign up for Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, or whatever fad diet program happens to be occupying the majority of air time on the boob tube.  Other people prefer to run out and purchase the latest, fold away, piece of shit being hawked by some celebrity has-been.  Me?  I decided to take up triathlon.  Where I had abused my body over the years with bacon cheeseburgers, pints of beer and double-dipped donuts, the time had now come to abuse my body with physical exertion, perseverance and hard work.  The time had come to kick my ass.

I’m just a random guy who decided one day that enough was enough; time to get in shape. Why not do an Ironman?  And somewhere along the line my life changed for the better.  Don’t ever take anything you read here as absolute gospel about the sport as it is merely intended to be my own blueprint of the things I learn and deal with; warts and all.  A simple story of one fat man’s foray into the challenging world of multi-sport.

They say that ‘every thousand mile journey starts with a single step’ (or an arm stroke as in my case), so you can consider these pages here as my first steps.  I may never be the next Dave Scott but I may just kill myself trying to be.

I am the “fat and the furious”.