Training with a Full Life (Spoiler, it's Chaos)

Swim. Bike. Run

I was following an online training plan which involved two swims, two bike and two runs. The swimming wasn’t too much of a shock as I was already used to getting up at this time anyway. The running and cycling would be a shock particularly when I enjoyed my weekend lie ins. I did however love the feeling of being on my bike when the sun had just risen and the sky was glowing, and the world was still asleep. I embraced this alone time and the beauty of the countryside and the peace and solitude.

I would get back home and dread the abuse I would get from waking up the teenage boys and encouraging them to emerge from their caves, complain about the lack of food, wondering where their football kit was and why I had moved their shoes. I would rush to get ready for work, referee arguments about who used whose phone charger and sit in the car waiting for them to get in so I could drop them at school and at the station….but knowing I was going to be late for work again!

Welcome to training with a full life, folks. It's not Instagram pretty and it definitely doesn't look like those motivational posters with perfectly lit athletes gazing meaningfully into sunrises.

The 6am Club (Me and the Other Lunatics)

But you know what you will discover? 6am is magic. Not the sunrise, birds singing, peaceful meditation kind of magic (though sometimes that happens). It's the "nobody wants anything from you" kind of magic. No emails, no phone calls, no teenagers demanding lifts or opinions on outfit choices.

At this time of morning, the pool was full of people like me—slightly unhinged individuals who'd realised that if we didn't swim now, it wasn't happening. We would nod at each other with the grim solidarity of the sleep-deprived but determined. We didn't chat much (it was too early for conversation), but there was an understanding. We were all here because life doesn't leave gaps for self-care—so we had to create them.

Making Training Non-Negotiable

Here's the harsh truth: if you wait for the "perfect" time to train, you'll be waiting forever. There will always be a work crisis, a family drama, a social obligation, or just general life chaos that seems more urgent than your personal goals.

I had to learn to treat my training like any other unmovable appointment. I wouldn't skip a doctor's appointment because someone needed a lift, so why would I skip a training session? This sounds simple in theory, but in practice, it meant having some difficult conversations.

"Mum, can you pick me up at 4pm?"

"Sorry, I’m going for a run. You'll have to walk home or get a lift with a friend."

The guilt was brutal at first. Good mothers are supposed to drop everything for their children, right? But then I realised something: what kind of example was I setting if I constantly put everyone else's needs before my own? Was I teaching them that mums don't matter? That women should always come last.

The Family Scheduling Olympics

Training with a family required organisation skills that would put a military operation to shame. I became the master of the family calendar, trying to find the gaps where my training could fit.

I'm not one of those organised mums who know what's for dinner every night or have Sunday meal prep sorted. I tend to open the fridge each evening and decide haphazardly what to eat that night. It's not ideal, but I've always made it work. But during training, I did have to get a bit more organised. If I was going to maintain early morning sessions, I needed grab-and-go fuel ready. Breakfast bars, overnight oats, pre-portioned snacks—my kitchen looked like a small café for a while.

I recruited the family as my support crew, whether they liked it or not. Caitlin became my unofficial race photographer. The boys learnt to give me advance warning if they had clubs or after school activities to get to. Chris took over certain household tasks without being asked (eventually).

The kids initially rolled their eyes at "Mum's weird fitness phase," but I started noticing changes. They began mentioning my training to friends with a mix of pride and bewilderment. "My mum's doing a Half Ironman. Yeah, I know, she's mental." But they were watching someone they loved push boundaries and refuse to settle for less.

The Guilt Games

Let's be honest about the guilt. It's real, it's persistent and it's exhausting. Every early morning session was accompanied by a nagging voice asking if I was being selfish. Every weekend long ride meant time away from family activities. Every race entry fee was money that could have been spent on the kids.

But here's what I learnt: the guilt was actually a sign that I'd been neglecting myself for so long that prioritising my needs felt wrong. I'd become so used to being last on my own list that self-care felt selfish.

The breakthrough came when Caitlin said something that stopped me in my tracks: "Mum, you're so much happier now. Even when you're tired from training, you're more... you."

She was right. The woman who was training for something that scared her was more present, more energetic, more interesting than the woman who was slowly disappearing into routine and responsibility.

The Ripple Effect

What I didn't expect was how my training would affect the whole family. My early morning sessions meant I was done and dusted before the day began, making me more available and less resentful during family time. I had more energy, better mood, clearer thinking. I was a better mum, wife, and colleague because I was taking care of myself first.

The kids started asking questions about goal setting and pushing through challenges. They saw me struggle, fail, get back up, and keep going. They witnessed firsthand what it looks like to work towards something that matters to you, even when it's hard.

Chris, initially sceptical about the weekend disappearances, started playing more golf and tennis. Not because I nagged him, but because seeing someone prioritise their health is contagious.

What Actually Works

If you're trying to squeeze training into a chaotic life, here's what I learnt:

Be ruthless with your time. I didn't watch much TV. I didn't scroll on my phone. The time I had was precious and I used it for training or for being present with my family.

Communicate clearly. Don't hint or hope people will guess. "I'm training at 6am tomorrow, so you’ll have to set your alarm because I won’t be here to wake you up" is much more effective than martyred sighs and passive-aggressive comments.

Lower other standards temporarily. The house doesn't need to be clean (tidy worked for me). Dinner can be simple (always was). Some things can wait. I already had a house that looked like a bomb had gone off in it most of the time, so this wasn't difficult for me.

Ask for help. People can't support what they don't understand. Explain why this matters to you and specifically what you need.

Your Turn

Training with a full life isn't about finding balance—it's about making choices. It's about deciding that your goals matter enough to inconvenience other people occasionally. It's about modelling what it looks like to prioritise your own growth and wellbeing.

Yes, it's hard. Yes, people might complain. Yes, you'll feel guilty sometimes. But the alternative—slowly disappearing into everyone else's needs while your own dreams gather dust—is so much worse.

What would you attempt if you stopped waiting for life to calm down? What goal are you postponing until the mythical "right time" when everything else is sorted?

The truth is there's never a perfect time. There's only now and the choice to make space for what matters to you.

Your 6am self is waiting. What are you going to show up for?