Spin-offs seem to be 50-50 in terms of their success rate.
In television and film, Ted Lasso was a spin-off of a Saturday Night Live sketch and has been critically acclaimed.
Meanwhile, Joey, a spin-off of the globally loved sitcom Friends, was certainly not.
TV and film are not the only areas where spin-offs are common; in sport, T20 and one-day cricket are successful versions of the original Test format, while AFLX ... the less said about that, the better.
Laptops are a spin-off of a desktop computer.
LeBron James is a spin-off of Michael Jordan.
The point is that spin-offs are everywhere in modern society, but what about in the world of exercise?
To be honest, yes, gym work/classes are a spin-off of the actual activity, but perhaps what this column is about to pitch could emerge as the next trend in exercise.
The world is aware of the couch-to-5km program, but I am launching my spin-off, the 12km-to-half-Ironman.
The name isn’t as catchy and the process isn’t as straightforward, but I will be experimenting with and participating in this program for the next three months.
The reason behind the name is due to the fact, before signing up for this event, I had never run further than 12km in a single go, but on September 8, I will be attempting a half Ironman event — also known as a 70.3 (70 miles covered over three activities) — on the Sunshine Coast.
A 70.3 event consists of a 1.9km open ocean swim, a 90km bike ride and a 21.1km run, with the added difficulty of cut-off times for each section.
Having only ever competed in one running event (the 2016 HBF run-for-a-reason), I will be using this column to record my progress preparing for the event as an average runner (I feel at home at the five-minute per kilometre mark).
More importantly, this column will also feature interviews with a dietician, an Ironman athlete, and anyone else who can best prepare me for what lies ahead.
On a more serious note, this project aims to find the best advice for attempting an event such as this as a layperson.
Especially for people (like I am) who were interested in trying events like these, but were too concerned that the sport is only meant for elite athletes, my goal is to find out if this is the case.
Up and running
It has been a week or two since I bought the ticket for the event and signed away the next few months of my life to a sport I don’t know much about.
Usually, this space would have an interview with an expert in a field related to the event, but instead, I thought I would use it to express my experiences and thoughts since becoming a half-athlete.
The more I research and investigate this half Ironman event, the more I realise what I have gotten myself into.
It’s like I am an archaeologist digging away at some bones in the ground, thinking they may be some kind of prehistoric chicken, only to blow the dust away and realise they are a Tyrannosaurus Rex.
The level of knowledge with which I came into this task was the bare minimum.
I thought for the swim you could simply wear speedos (I agreed boardies would be too casual), for the cycle I thought shorts, trainers and a singlet would do and likewise for the run.
However, I soon learnt that a wetsuit is highly recommended.
Not the usual kind, instead a specific swimming wetsuit — I didn’t know they existed.
And for the ride, lycra and a proper road bike with click-in pedals and shoes were a must.
Then comes the planning.
I have to plan what to eat before and during my training and the event, how to get the bike across two states, how to get me across two states, accommodation, transport and all the other admin (of which I despise).
Then comes the training: when to train, what discipline to train, what time to train and then, of course, actually doing the training.
This may seem like me moaning and complaining, but in all, I am actually enjoying the process.
The mix of disciplines means you have variety in training and the prospect of learning the secrets and tricks of three new sports is exciting.
Plus, losing the puppy fat I have held for 23 years will be a bonus.
Two other elements of this have got me hooked on this event: one is the independence of training; I can train in what discipline I want when I want to, and (this bit is probably a blessing and a curse) how often.
The second aspect is the excitement I feel knowing that I am venturing into the unknown.
I don’t know how much I will improve over the next few months.
I don’t know how I will perform on race day.
I don’t know if I will even be able to finish an event such as this.
It’s like a Stephen King novel; it’s a weird mix of daunting, scary and exciting, which has got me leaning in for more.