In my experience
From triathlons to swimming in shark-infested waters and transforming her basic cooking skills on Celebrity MasterChef, broadcaster Louise Minchin shares her inspiring insight into the joy of embracing new challenges
If you had told me at the start of 2013 that, 10 years later, I would have competed for the GB triathlon team in my age group in World and European Championships, and have finished four marathons, as well as two of the world’s toughest extreme triathlons, I would not have believed you for a second. Back then, I didn’t even know exactly what a triathlon was. I had a vague idea what sports were involved but couldn’t tell you with any certainty what order you did them in or how far you swam, cycled or ran. Exercise was something I dabbled in, but not at all seriously. I ran a bit, swam sometimes and had stopped cycling as my bike had been stolen.
It all changed very quickly after a night spent in the intense atmosphere of the Manchester Velodrome. I was there as part of a Christmas Challenge in 2012 with my then BBC Breakfast colleagues. Bill Turnbull, Susanna Reid, Charlie Stayt and I were taking part in a cycling race, two teams against each other, in front of 4,000 people. Before our training day, I had never been in a velodrome, never sat on a racing bike and hadn’t been in a race of any kind for 30 years.
To my shame now, I had given up competitive swimming aged 15 when I had looked in the mirror and decided I didn’t like the way my muscly back and shoulders had changed my appearance. In my naïve teenage eyes, I thought they made me look too masculine. From one day to the next, I gave up training and competing. I never raced in a swimming gala again. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, and I wish I could have a word with my younger self and stress how important it was to continue swimming. I had no idea then how many mental and physical benefits it brought me.
So, from the moment I walked into the Velodrome, I was far out of my comfort zone. It was utterly overwhelming. The bike had dropped handlebars and no brakes; it was so skinny I felt like an elephant trying to cycle on top of a pin. I screamed for the first lap of the track, laughed hysterically for the second and by the third I started enjoying it. The exhilaration I felt as I flew over the finishing line on race day blew my mind. I had forgotten how much I loved that explosion of adrenaline, and I knew then that I needed competitive sport in my life again – I knew I needed to race.
It escalated quickly. A week later, I bought myself a road bike, special pedals, padded cycling pants, go-faster helmet – you name it, I bought it and started road cycling. Six months after that, I staggered over the finish line after
