‘He’s treated like a hero when he does marathons,” says Julia. “But once, while we were watching him cross the finishing line, my aunt leaned over and said: ‘You deserve the medal, for doing everything behind the scenes, so he can do all that training.’”
From 5Ks to Ironman races, most people will have a friend, colleague or family member who is training for some kind of fitness challenge. The odd parkrun isn’t enough to merit kudos these days – the bar is set somewhere around “triathlon”. But what about the Lycra widows and widowers who solo-parent, fix bikes, sleep in cars while “crewing”, and diligently stick chicken in the air fryer five times a day to support their sport-mad partners? Where’s their “me-time” after they’ve done bedtime for the 11th day in a row because their partner has been out on a six-hour training ride?
Julia’s husband Chris (not their real names) has run six marathons – he started when their children were two and five. “He runs five to six hours each week, after having been at work all day. And again at weekends when I need his help,” Julia says. “I effectively become a single parent for four months while he trains.”
It’s not just the hours lost to training. “He once did an insane 100-mile run through the night,” Julia says. “You’re supposed to do it in a relay team, but he wanted to do the whole thing himself. He collapsed at the finishing line and was in bed for two days. There was a lot of, ‘You’re a bloody legend’ from our friends. Meanwhile I had to do all the school runs and even serve him dinner in bed because he couldn’t walk downstairs for days. And when he stops drinking on New Year’s Day until the London marathon in April, it’s just tedious.”
Sarah Sanders can empathise. She remembers her husband Phil’s first Land’s End to John o’Groats challenge (an 874-mile bike ride that takes 10-14 days) in 2011 as two relaxing weeks enjoying time alone at home. But by the time Phil did it a second time, in 2021, they’d had two children and were camped out at her parents’ house due to major building works at home. “That was a really difficult two weeks,” Sarah says.
When training ramps up close to a challenge, things can be tough. “He will say: ‘I probably won’t be there for the school run or bedtime.’ And you can feel a bit like a single parent for a little while.
“But I’m proud of him for doing what he does. He also raises money for cancer charities, because he lost both of his parents to cancer. So there’s another reason behind it all.” Phil is currently training for his first triathlon, a marathon, and the Dragon Ride (a Welsh cycling marathon).
“He’s always conscious of how it affects family life,” Sarah says. “I always say it’s fine. But you do get to the point where you lose patience. And there’s a little part of me that just wants to blame things on him. Because he’s not there.”
But the impact has positives on their family life – their children (now aged nine and four) are both interested in cycling and running. And the runs are key to Phil’s wellbeing. “If he hasn’t been out for a run or cycle, he’ll start to get a bit moody,” Sarah says.
Louise Woolliscroft often feels like her husband Colin’s intense training regime takes over their lives. “The most challenging time was when he was working towards his Ironman in 2017,” she says. “He was trying to lose a bit of weight and probably under-fuelling, and he was hangry for about nine months.”
It can also stop Louise planning her own fitness challenges. She did a 60-mile cycle ride herself last year, but having both of them training was a problem. “I felt like the kids didn’t get enough of our time,” she admits. “So I’m now hesitant so sign up for anything. Colin says he will support me but I can’t see the space for me to step into, whereas he just does it.”
A recent study by sportswear brand Asics found more than half of UK women are dropping out of or stopping exercise completely, and 80% felt not having enough time was a barrier. Conversely, only 34% of men saw time pressure as a challenge for women.
10Ironwomen is a community set up to combat this gender sports gap. In 2018, 10 female friends set out to do Ironman Barcelona – it’s now a movement of thousands. It was around that time that original member Sarah Curtis met her now-husband, Kit Ingham.
When training ramps up, and day-long cycle rides begin, Kit admits it can be difficult. If the couple go on a weekend away, the bikes have to come too. A wedding in Spain fell during peak training, so lots of organisation was needed to make sure it could continue unbroken.
“The build-up to the events can feel all-consuming,” says Kit. “But when it comes to the culmination, it is amazing.” He describes seeing Sarah cross the line of that first Ironman as super emotional: “I knew how much work had gone into it. I was in tears with her.”
Kit sees his role as support, from “understanding and validating her feelings or insecurities” to fixing her bike. “It helps immensely that I’m behind the cause with her. By nature, I’m quite happy in a supporting role. I imagine if you were competitive yourself, it might not be so easy.”
Now, the couple are adjusting to another change – their first child was born six months ago, and Kit is helping Sarah get back into sport. “I’ve allowed the turbo trainer [a static exercise bike] back into the living room, which I absolutely hate,” he jokes.
Sarah is now considering a marathon. While their daughter’s arrival has made training more complicated, she thinks it’s more important than ever she continue to carve out that time for herself: “I think the guilt may be there but I’ll always try to override it by telling myself it’s really important my daughter sees me out there too, and it’s not just Dad going out and doing stuff.”
Sabrina Pace-Humphreys is an ultramarathon obsessive. As well as competing in races including the infamous Marathon des Sables in the Sahara, she set up the charity Black Trail Runners to increase inclusivity in the sport. Her husband Neil says it’s easier now their two youngest children are in their teens. Sabrina will often leave home at 4am to do punishing runs before returning around 10am, often before their kids have even got out of bed.
How much does Sabrina’s activism and training shape their lives? “Quite a lot,” says Neil, with some understatement. “Before Christmas, I crewed for her doing the Winter Downs 200 [a 200-mile continuous race]. That was four nights sleeping in the car.”
The logistics take time, too, he says. “It’s the spreadsheet and the kit testing and everything else that people don’t necessarily realise.” Then there’s the emotional impact afterwards. It’s similar to Christmas Day, he says. And after it’s all finished, she’ll say: “What do we plan for now?”
For Neil though, ultimately there’s only pride awaiting Sabrina at the finishing line. “That’s what I signed up for,” he says, “to support what she does.”
If only there was a medal for that.
