Beginnings

AKA why I blame Mike McCann for everything...

I admit it, for the majority of my life I've avoided sport at all costs. I couldn’t see the point in it, the people I associated with it were generally very fit, and as I was carrying more than a bit of fighting weight, it wasn’t something that I was going to have any aptitude at it. The longer I held this opinion, the more it was re-enforced in my head.

TubbyMitch

But this all changed in July 2007 when I signed up for British Military Fitness classes in Sefton Park, Liverpool. I was bored with hating the way I looked, sick of wasting the money of a gym membership I wasn’t really using and thought this might be the change I needed. I was right.  

Having a class three times a week of focused exercise meant that you were never more than a couple of days away from the next session, keeping you on your toes. As you got fitter and the number of press-ups and burpees you could do increased, you strived to achieve more. I started in the beginner “Blues”, but after three sessions, one of instructors said “I don’t want to see you in the blues next session; you should be in the Reds”. *Gulp*, but I gave it a go and still enjoyed it. 

The first of the monthly fitness tests came round in the October, a 1.5Km run followed by various sprints and exercises. We were to do the run first. You could hear my knees knocking together if you stood next to me at the start. GO! And off we went. After 500m I was in about third or fourth place, wanting to cough my lungs up. All of a sudden I heard “Mitch, stop coasting. Get a move on”. 

It sounds overly emotional now, but it felt like the first time anyone had ever believed in me when it came to sport. It was like a rocket and I went for it. A few hundred metres on I just about heard some shouts of encouragement from BMFers not doing the fitness test over the blood pounding in my ears. Quite a few of the faster people were missing that day, but as I turned the last corner I realised I was going to come home first. 

It’s a feeling that I struggle to describe even today. When things aren’t going to plan, or a session seems too hard, I try to remember that feeling and things don’t seem so bad. I crossed the line and was unable to speak for about 5 minutes, the burn in my lungs so great I thought I was going to pass out. In the grand scheme of things, the time wasn’t that fast, but I had done it. Turning that last corner was the beginning of my sporting adventure, a journey I’m still on to this day.

Green, Mean & Keen

But another important thing came out of BMF. Over the coming months I formed friendships with an amazing group of people, one where it didn’t matter how big or small you were, how fast or slow you were. The mutual support and encouragement that flowed around the group was infectious and something that I strive to recreate wherever I go.  We grew together and achieved ever greater things. There’s Ironmen, Rowers, Boxers, Personal Trainers, Footballers, Marathon Runners and Ultra-Runners created from these small beginnings.

Don’t ever tell someone they cannot do something. If you do, expect to be surprised when they prove you wrong.