On March 3, 1969 the United States Navy established an elite school for the top one percent of its pilots. Its purpose was to teach the lost art of aerial combat and to insure that the handful of men who graduated were the best fighter pilots in the world.
They succeeded.
Today the Navy calls it Fighter Weapons School.

The flyers call it:

THE SLOTS
So there we were.

The 3 of us jumping up and down like kids on Christmas. Mav, Ice and I were over the moon. The other two had forgotten about their episode from the night before. Watching GI Jane to get psyched up for a race with your wingman, while crammed uncomfortably close in a double bed, is something you’d sooner forget. Qualifying for the first ever Seventy-Point-Three World Championships Half Ironman made forgetting easy. For now, we had won slots for an event which had the word “World” in front of it. As good a reason as any to succumb to the euphoria.

Earlier that day, Natalie and I had contemplated the chances of qualification for World Champs in Florida, a few minutes before entering the water at Longleat for the start of the UK 70.3.

Inside I knew it was impossible to know whether any of us would stand a realistic chance of qualifying. Who else was competing for a slot? What was the field’s calibre? Had we trained hard enough? Would we be fast enough? Would our bodies hold out? So many variables.

As it turned out, the variables were in our favour and we managed to bag three of the eighteen slots offered in our age group.

FORREST GUMP
It wasn’t the ultra distance Forrest Gump that interested me. I was more intrigued by the people who chose to follow him on faith and without question. Inspired souls stirred into action, looking for something out there on life’s Route 66.

Like the handful of athletes who in 1978 attempted the first Ironman race held in Hawaii. No-one knew what to expect. They merely pieced three of the toughest swim, bike and run races together to form a 226 kilometre event and went for it. In those days, no-one knew what would happen to the body over such a distance. As a safety measure the organisers agreed to weigh all the athletes at various stages of the race to assess weight loss. Anything out of the ordinary and the athlete would be prevented from continuing. Those were the Star Trek years of going boldly where no-one had been before.

28 years on and the first World Half Ironman championships is held in Florida, USA. The newly named event, Seventy Point Three, sounding rather catchier than the kilometre equivalent of 113.183, is comprised of 17 races from around the globe. Each race has about 100 slots, divided between the age groups. UK 70.3 held at Longleat was the inaugural event to kick-start the series.

In our 30-34 age group, the 1st eighteen crossing the finish line, after the 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike and 13.1 mile run, would earn a slot for the World Champs. Keeto, Blur and I were lucky enough to be at the tail-end of a solid based Ironman year and we managed to bag the 8th, 9th and 10th slots. Being given the code names of Maverick (Wayne Keet), Ice (Keith Buhr) and Goose (yours truly) in anticipation of the World Champs seemed the right thing to do.

The beauty is that we happened to be in the right place at the right time to earn the right, alongside 1,798 other athletes in various parts of the world, to be part of [insert drum roll here] the first ever athletes to take part in the 70.3 World Championships. Whether the event will transform itself into the mecca that is Hawaii or fizzle out like Gump’s dehydrated followers in the middle of Death Valley with no place to go, time can only tell. But at least we can always say “We Were There”.

L-R: Blur, Keeto, Robby

ONE PERCENT
With one month to go, and lots of fine tuning of race strategies still required, we’re being bombarded by emails from the race organisers sending information on the race to be held in and around the beaches of Clearwater, Florida. It’s going to be a flat and fast course with the world’s best athletes. The fastest will do the race in sub-4 hours. Most of the field will go sub- 5. You dawdle and you’ll be jettisoned out the back of the pack like the little guys in a dwarf tossing contest.

Perusing the race briefing, I know that plenty is at stake for 2% of ~the hotrods~ when we are given specific information of what drugs the World Anti Doping Directive forbids. I always knew that the day people start warning me about the consequences of taking drugs in race briefings, means I’ve gone up another level. Soon, who knows, someone with a lab coat may actually call me in for a drug inspection. On that day, as a Brooklynite might say, I know I done good.

L-R: Iceman, Maverick, Goose

TOP GUN
Since the Longleat event other friends have qualified for the event in November. Nigel Richardson and Barry Atkins, known hereforth as “Viper” and “Jester”, both qualified in the UK 70.3 held in 2006. Other comrades would have also earned a slot if they had waited around long enough after the race. Duncan “Duccio” Barrable’s name was called out at the UK 70.3 and again at the Monaco 70.3 to collect a slot. On both occasions he was not available when commentator called out his name. Tough luck indeed. Not to worry, his time - and the time of all the boys (and girls) - will come.

I’m chomping at the bit for the 5 minutes before that gun goes off. I’ll be scrunching my toes in the beach sand off Pier 60, with Mav and Ice next to me psyching each other up/out. Viper and Jester will be there too, doing windmills in the surf warming up for the start of the swim. And…oh….. say about 70.3 miles off into the distance, will be Natalie waiting to hand 11-month-old Jake (formerly known as Beanie) to me as I cross the finish line.

That day will be a good day.

It won’t be about splits or places or prize money. It will be about being a part of something new. Pushing your limits to see what you can squeeze out of your own expectations. Looking for fish as you swim in the Gulf of Mexico. Dropping the hammer to see how fast your bike can go along the West Courtney Campbell Causeway as you hover above Old Tampa Bay. Breathing in the sights and smells of the spectators as the applause carries you down the finish chute before you do The-Justin-Timberlake over the finish line.

This is where the adventure begins.
RobbyRicc aka Goose

For your reading pleasure I’ve included details of the fine Floridian establishments where the Top Gun entourage will be visiting on their stay in the US of A:

And for those of you who are keeping-it-real, some classic verbiage from TG: