Fat Man to Ironman – Rick Twine

I am asked quite regularly how I got into what some people describe as “That insane sport.” Or “You’re joking.” The question comes most often from acquaintances that I have not seen for some years and are shocked at the new body and attitude that comes courtesy of an Ironman lifestyle.

There is a story behind most of us, probably because no-one suddenly stands up from the couch and says “I am going to do an Ironman”

My sporting background consists of some competition squash and the occasional run that always ended in injury.  When playing squash it was customary to have a cigarette in between games and to drink 6 beers and eat 3 pies afterwards. Very social but not so good for the body.

There came a point in my life at age 36 when I weighed 115kgs, with size 40 pants, unable to run more than 2km and was suffering borderline depression. During a 2 week stretch of annual leave, I decided to finally get my daughters play area constructed which needed some railway sleepers carried around to back yard……..mmm my back”s a bit sore.  I then contracted a cold which came free of charge with a hacking cough.

Over the next two to three days the pain in my back became progressively worse until I was unable to walk! A CAT scan showed serious problems with the lumbar area with severe internal swelling causing the excruciating pain.

I was driven by my wife from the radiology clinic direct to the hospital where I was admitted to the neuro unit. At this stage I could only get around with the aid of a walking stick, one that I had made as a joke some years earlier. I did not think I would ever actually need it. 

The treatment consisted of a cortisone epidural in order to reduce the swelling within my spine, followed by what was to be some fairly intensive physiotherapy. The first session, which was hydrotherapy, was conducted in the hospital and I was wheeled to the pool in a wheelchair. My father became a paraplegic when I was one year old and as I was being pushed along I got a glimpse of the world as he must have seen it. The seed of reform was sown.

I began the physio slowly and gently and found that I was really enjoying the pedal sessions in the pool and started to get a good work out. The therapy continued over the next 12weeks with pilates included and at the end I remember very clearly the reaction of the girls in the physio clinic as I started walk better, ie more upright and looking more confident.

They got me walking and able to manage the spinal problems to the point where the only time I experienced any real pain was after standing in one spot for more than 15 minutes. Oddly this remains to this day. Maybe as a reminder to never go backwards.

On completion of the program, I decided that I would like to keep it going and so began to go to the local pool in the mornings to swim laps. This grew to cycling to the pool, which grew to cycling 3 times a weeks and cycling/swimming three times a week.

During a conversation about the changes I was experiencing my wife commented that I would soon be asking for a better bike. A light bulb was switched on and I went shopping. Mountain biking was the result, and I remember the first time I climbed to the top of the Darling ranges in Perth. I rang my wife to tell her, on top of the hill and the world as well!

The journey into triathlon began during an overseas trip for work where I was unable to swim and ride enough to keep me satisfied. A few of my colleagues were runners and asked me along. With great trepidation I ventured out with some old running shoes. I ran about 3km and could still walk afterwards. Did this mean I was now a runner? Had I known what was to come I would not have thought so.

So now I could swim, ride a bike and run. I was under 100kg and feeling great. It seemed like a natural progression have a go at a triathlon. I researched some programs and schedules and began training for a sprint.

Lining up for that first race was an experience that I thought would never be matched, until of course I crossed the finish line. Finishing seemed to embody all the positive feelings I had been fostering over the previous 3 years of making the changes in my life. I raced 3 or 4 more times in that first season, gaining confidence as I progressed.

In between races I came across a young guy with a tattoo on his ankle. I enquired and he told me that he got it after finishing the NZ Ironman. I asked what this was all about, and he told me the distances. I laughed and told him that this was impossible, “No-one can do that.” But once again the seed was sewn. Another accidental ride with a guy who was training for Ironman Australia added fuel to the fire.

I finished that first season with the Busselton half Ironman, with the idea in my head that if I did OK, I would give this Ironman business a go. My time was 5.16, so I was now committed.

With family clued up and a program downloaded from the ‘net I began training for the inaugural Ironman Western Australia. Interesting how this race appeared just as my life was heading into needing it.

My training for that first IM went OK, punctuated by a series of minor achievements that I called “Ironmoments” Little things like staying on my bike to finish the session after already having ridden 150km, desperately sore and wanting to go home. My first three hour run and repeated efforts in the pool over 4km were all noted as things I would never have thought possible. It did not all go perfectly as I suffered injuries from not really knowing what I was doing. Fortunately my regular mountain biking friend is a physiotherapist, who helped me through.

That first IM will remain burnt into my memory as a “Coming home.” I suddenly felt amongst people who all understood the reason why! So much happened during my way through but I clearly remember thinking after having completed 2 hours of what ended up a 4hr 15 marathon “Why would anyone do this twice.” I got through the race, with my children accompanying me down the shute. The look on my face as I crossed the finish line was one of utter elation and I knew the answer to the question I posed whilst on the run. My demeanor rapidly changed into one of pain and minor shock – as evidenced by the video - but the volunteers were there to help me into recovery where I was looked after further.

I am now almost 12 weeks through my 15 week program for Ironman Australia, which will be my fifth IM start, and hopefully fifth finish. Each Ironman is a story unto itself. Training and racing has got me through a range of difficulties such as family tragedies, personal doubts, injuries and midlife crises. On the way to IMWA 05 I was hit by a car, crashed twice breaking ribs both times, had joint problems in my elbow, had suspected prostate cancer, allergic reactions to bee stings, and had two deaths in the family. I still raced to a PB dealing with all sorts of stuff during the race. I then crashed my Mountain bike on a suburban street around the corner from home. I broke my collar bone and was supposed to start training for Pt Maq the next day. I walked because it was too painful to run, and bought a windtrainer because it hurt too much to ride on the road.

I now know without question that I can do anything I put my mind to. My lifestyle has changed to one of an ultra endurance athlete rather than one of an Ultra beer drinker. My children see what can happen with sacrifice and focus. We have traveled around WA for various races, and are soon to leave for Pt. Maquarie for the second time.

I have kept all of my run number bibs, and have them stuck onto that walking stick.

Life is good.