Mike's Inspiring Duathalon Journey

At Dare 2b, we know that sport and exercise not only do wonders for the body, but for the mind too. We are proud to have supported friend Mike Nolan who suffers with depression, to help him use sport to help aid his recovery. The pinnacle of Mike's sporting journey so far was to represent Great Britain competing in the European Championships Duathalon in Soria, near Madrid in Spain, this April 2017.

Mike shares his amazing story:

As I held the Union flag aloft and walked through the streets of Soria, Spain, being applauded by the locals, I felt humbled. My eyes welled as I took in the achievement of realising my dream.

My journey was over; a journey that not only took on the hills and wintery conditions that Soria threw at me, but also the darkness of depression that tried to put a halt to my dreams.

During the low moments of depression, summoning up any energy or motivation to train, was difficult to say the least. My family and close friends tried to offer up support but all too often it wasn't absorbed by me as I found myself being isolated further and further from those close to me.

It was only through focusing on a crazy dream, a dream to represent my country did I find the focus and will to keep moving forward.

Dare 2b, and in particular Keith Black, was hugely instrumental in making my dream come true. Through their support and supply of kit, I was able to not only dream about representing Great Britain, but actually make it happen.

So my dream was alive and well, and off to Spain I went and boy did I kick some ass, well, sort of.

I was working hard, sweat dripping from my furrowed brow, pushing down hard on the pedal, trying to keep my cool whilst those around me seemed to be losing their heads completely. I thought to myself: "I don't know how long I can keep this up, I am almost done, I just have nothing left." Turns out trying to pack a bike is a real stress!

Lists, lists, endless lists. In my head of course; I couldn't possibly make it easy on myself by writing them down, oh no, I need to remember them all... Allen keys, c02 canisters, inner tubes, race kit, practice kit, walk about acting like a pro athlete GB kit, got, got, got. Do pros have this hassle? Doubt it, neither do organised, rational people.

The week leading up to a race is always a bit strange, training is all but done, so you have more time on your hands than usual. More time to eat! Or more time to think about eating whilst not allowing yourself to stray from the righteous path that leads to race weight!

This is the idealistic number I came up with when starting out on my training, back in November, 70kgs was my target weight. Starting out at 72kgs seemed near enough to my goal weight to seem realistic. What I hadn't taken into consideration was Christmas, Birthday and Easter! So the week before the big race I am now weighing in at 75kgs! However, I decided to change my goal race weight to a revised 80kg. Nice one, I achieved what I wanted. My weight, my rules!

I find leaving home pretty stressful. However, whenever I do go abroad to race I normally manage to focus hard and stay in the ZONE. I know that sounds very American, but even though I'm not a good traveller, I manage. My wife is a) not a good flyer and b) full of a full-blown cold so I'm very relieved once our journey is over and we're at the athletes' team hotel.

Time for the bike recce. Was I stupid in assuming that someone might know the way? I was at one point leading the recce - me?! I get lost going around a roundabout, and now I'm chief navigator! Thankfully a top Scottish lad joins me and helps me out.

The next evening is the opening ceremony and another moment that warmed me to the whole GB scene. I felt seriously proud if not a little uncomfortable with all the attention we received from the local people of Soria, it was most humbling. I, of course, tried to hide this by acting like an idiot and grabbing the flag.  Anyway, it was a lovely ceremony if not a little confusing.

The night before a race is always stressful, but an early tea and early to bed put paid to my stressing. In the morning I could barely hold down any food at breakfast as I sat quietly in an eerily silent restaurant; everyone deep in their own thoughts about the impending period of pain. It's time to prepare for the cave!

Ah the cave - the dark horrible place you have to go to whilst racing. Some people welcome the cave, others like me are frightened stiff of it and today of all days I was petrified. The big worry for me was not just the cave (that place is inevitable), it was the fear of being rubbish. When doing your usual local races you know you are not going to be last. This was a different kettle of fish. As I lined up against the other competitors, my heart started to race. The crowd were cheering and the music blaring - crikey, this is actually happening, I am in the European Championships! The horn sounds and off we go. This is a tough course; it is basically 400m up hill, 400m down for 2.5 km, then repeat x 4! My splits are ok and I am making myself comfortable in the cave. I am able to smile and wave at the Mrs and friends as I go round. I am also able to stay with a good few of the Brits as well as drive myself crazy with the indecision for whether to wear a rain jacket on the bike or not.

As I go into transition the heavens open... decision made. I lose a bit of time putting it on but at least I am warm and dry.

Try again with the fancy new shoes and attempt to do a flying start. Unlike Clumber I actually manage to get onto the seat. I also, however, manage to get my face on my Tri bars. A bit embarrassing at a very crowded mount line!

I had been warned by the sprint guys on how bad the cross winds were. They weren't kidding! I was blown from side to side, and really struggled to maintain a straight line or any speed. From cross winds to head winds; I was churning out over 300 watts on the flat and still only going 20km/h.

After the 180 degree turn in the road, it was as if someone had turned the fan off. The wind suddenly dropped away and I could at last begin to motor, and motor I did. I am a bit of a nutter when it comes to descending so I sat down on my top tube, with my face on the Tri bars for the second time. Maxing out at 80km/h, flying past people is very exhilarating, and this was the pattern for all 3 laps, a slow difficult first half and a ridiculously dangerous and fast second half.

I arrived into T2 feeling ok and quite pleased with my performance as I had held off three of the Brits I had been battling with. Dump the bike quick and crack on now to the run. When I did a recce of the run the day before I said to myself, "you're gonna feel those inclines off the bike" - I wasn't wrong! This last 5km was going to be tough.

As I ran I kept on noticing GB athletes who had already raced earlier in the day, but instead of retreating to a hot bath in the hotel, they endured the wind and rain to cheer us on - another humbling moment! I repeatedly heard my name being called out which helped me along so much. I made a mental note to go back to thank a particular group after I finished.

I had two fellow GBers in my sights as I started the last lap - a bit of a push and I knew I could catch them. The prospect of me also being caught kept me pushing hard.

Into the last 500m and I passed my team mates/rivals, grabbed a union flag from a spectator, waved to my wife and made my way onto the blue carpet. My European adventure was over! Well almost, I made my way to the corner of the run course where my name was shouted each time I passed, I duly thanked them for their support.

My time was irrelevant really as neither the course nor the conditions were conducive to a quick time. In my age group, I did however finish in 10th position out of 34 and was the 5th British athlete out of 18 - not a bad effort for an Age Group virgin.

As I sat on the plane on the way home I reflected on my experience of representing my country. After joining the group, I have seen how hard people have worked to get here, how much emotion and effort they put into their quest to qualify, and how representing GB can become a lifestyle. A special mention must go to Maurice Young, an 84 year old gold medal winner, for giving me a plan for the next 40 years!

Thank you Dare 2b for helping me not only achieve my athletic ambitions, but in doing so, helping me with my personal battle with depression. Since Spain, I have reduced my medication, with a view to be completely off them in September.

Dare 2b... brave, honest, vulnerable and of course, a dreamer!

Much love,

Mike Nolan

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