Things I won't miss about Dubai triathlon!

Having waxed lyrical about what I'm going to miss about Dubai in a blog post that critics have described as "emotional"*, "heartwrenching"* and "Hemigwayesque is its absolute desire to discover the truth of the human condition"*, it's now time to tell you all what I'm not going to miss. I am, after all, a British journalist and, therefore, only build something up so I can revel in knocking it back down... a career on The Daily Mail surely awaits!

*None of these things were actually said out loud by anyone but could have been Tweeted by someone somewhere once, after all, who's to say..?

So... adopting my best transatlantic 'ray-dee-oh deee-jay' voice, here we go with the top five... (da da daah, da da daah, daaa, daa, daaah...)

5. The races. Not a dig at race organisers at all, they are marvellous and lovely people without whom we’d just be a bunch of idiots who train a lot, but my god are the triathlons in Dubai boring! There are two problems, as I see it. One: due to the whole traffic thing etc, they're always in the middle of nowhere on some godforsaken stretch of road that makes an hour on the turbo trainer seem like a riveting 60 minutes of scenic exploration. Two: as locations are limited, the race calendar is made up of these races being repeated many times over. 

4. The drivers. A few times, I ventured out on to real actual roads on my bike – usually hitting Al Wasl and the Beach Road early morning, but even bravely (OK, stupidly) attempting to commute to work by bike for some time… I still have not quite managed to fully unclench my sphincter. Sweet eight pound six ounce newborn baby Jesus, that is some scary stuff. I was only hit (very lightly) once on the bike, when an Indian driver attempted some sort of clever dummy, by indicating and looking one way, then turning the other – really tearing up the rule book with that sort of driving – but there were some close calls, in Nad Al Sheba especially, where the driving resembles a bunch of monkeys let loose on high speed bumper cars. Amazingly I was 'bumped' twice while out running in Dubai - don't want to make any general sweeping generalisations but both times it was by Arab women wearing full abayas, in heavily blacked-out windowed vehicles, at night... giving them the sort of range of vision that Stevie Wonder has of his keyboard.

3. The laps and laps and laps and laps. Granted, over the past few years the number of options for cycling in Dubai have increased but it still boils down to going around and around and around the same few places – whether that’s lots of laps of the NAS cycle path, the autodrome or Ghantoot, or a few less laps of Nad Al Sheba, Longtoot or Al Qudra. On the plus side, it certainly builds some mental fortitude!

2. The heat. An obvious one but there it is… put simply, my body does not operate well in the heat – so running when my body is so soaked with sweat that my trainer makes a squelching noise every time it hits the ground, and my tingling skin feels like it might explode into a human fireball at any moment is not really my idea of fun. Just as cycling into a fan oven for several hours is, in my mind, more akin to torture than anything edifying or enjoyable.

1. The early mornings. Number one, with a bullet! I’m not adverse to an early morning and I’m certainly not the kind of person who loves to sleep in all day but, still, 2.30am-6am is a time window during which - even by the extraordinary set of rules that triathletes live their lives by - everyone should be asleep. It is most definitely not a time at which humans should be up and riding. It is not the ideal hour for hitting the sea for a choppy dawn swim session.  And it is not a time slot that should be reserved for driving to Hatta. 

OK, rant over. Annnnnd breathe...

Bye, bye, I’ll Miss Emirati Tri

(see what I did with that title, eh?)

OK, OK, OK… so it’s been a while. And for that I offer up my deepest, sincerest condolences, yadda yadda yadda… Actually, what do you want from me? I’ve been damn busy. ‘How busy?’ you may ask. Lots of work on? Too much training? Few personal commitments?

Actually, I’ve been rounding up my life in the UAE (easier said than done), saying my goodbyes and have been a tad preoccupied with moving to the Netherlands, I’ll have you know. But now I’m there, and have been living in Amsterdam for one week exactly, I’m writing the blog I should have written a couple of weeks ago.

First up, let me say that the time was right and, even before I got here, I’ve been super-psyched about my move. Now I’m here, despite having to increase the overall size of my wardrobe by several thousand percent (coats, scarves and gloves are essentials for life in this here Netherlands, people!), I’m even more excited. But that doesn’t mean that there’s not some sadness attached to leaving Dubai.

There’s sadness attached to the place – I was lucky enough to leave while I still feel a lot of fondness towards Dubai and the UAE, rather than so many who are ‘just reeeeally over the whole thing, you know, man?’  when they make the move away. There’s sadness attached to the job – I think I had one of the best jobs in the world at Explorer – and the people. But what I’m going to miss, more than anything else, can be summed up in one word: triathlon.

Let’s take a pictorial journey through my time in Dubai…

2008: 93kgs and already many, many kilos lighter than at the same point the year before, I tackle my first triathlon in gym clothes, wearing a borrowed kids’ helmet and riding a borrowed bike. Sprint triathlon time: 1hr46.

2010: 85kgs and with a marathon and several triathlons under my belt, with a proper bike helmet and on my very own tri bike, I register a time of 1.17 for a sprint tri.

2012: 79kgs (going into the race…70kgs finishing it!) I complete my second Ironman. I now have many, many swim, bike, run and tri races under my belt and can cover the sprint distance in around 1.03.

What many will see there is either a dude who got himself into some sort of decent shape or a blogger who’s feeling a mite proud of himself. I’d disagree. When I look at those photos now I think of experiences (climbing Kilimanjaro, racing Ironmans, cycling tours across Thailand and Laos or Europe), I think of achievements, I think of a guy who’s happier in life and better at his job, and  I think of someone who wouldn’t have had the balls or ability to make the move I’ve just made before my tri adventure began. But, most of all, I think of all the friends I’ve made along the way.

The Middle East and endurance sport may not seem to be a match made in heaven but for me it most definitely was. So, when I look back on my time in Dubai, what I’ll always remember and be grateful for is that it gave me one of the things I love most and makes me happiest in the world.

And it taught me one thing. Wherever you are in the world, never let location be your limiter or your barrier. Get out there and make it count! While everyone else in Amsterdam is bemoaning the cold snap and the rain, I’m wrapped up and ready for action – after jogging around and around and around at Safa or Dubai Marina in 45 degree C, hitting the canal-side trails, parks and woods of Holland in the cold is a breeze.

As rubbish and silly a dedication as it may be, this blog serves as a huge thanks to everyone at Tri2Aspire, Dubai Masters, Cycle Safe, Tri Dubai, ABRaS etc etc… thanks for pushing me harder, faster and further, and for teaching me that pushing harder, faster and further is the greatest feeling in the whole, wide, lovely, great world.