Having predominantly focussed on soccer and swimming for the majority of my early years and with boredom setting in, at age 13 via his older brother Stephens growing interest in triathlon Brent found a passion for cycling. The effort, the sacrifice, the drama was unlike anything else. A major inspiration was watching Greg LeMond’s 8 second win in 1989. With this new enthusiasm for cycling I let both soccer and swimming slip from my life. If not out on the training, hours upon hours of old Tour De France videos were viewed and via the care of a friend’s extensive collection I have seen every tour since 1985.

Brent’s inception into triathlon wouldn’t actually start until 1994. One night before a duathlon a few hours down the road a friend of mine challenged me to join them in participating in the following day’s race. Never one to shy from a bet, I welcomed the challenge and joined him in his adventure. The following day I would win the junior category and place highly overall. Not bad??? Next move (2nd race ever) saw one venturing north to compete in the National Duathlon Championships and Selection Race for the World Championships. Again placing highly and did enough to secure a Junior Elite berth into the coming World Champs. So where did triathlon start???

A year later (Nov, 1995) at the World Duathlon Championships in Cancun, Mexico. I would race in the duathlon exactly one week before the triathlon. To help pass the days leading up to the triathlon I decided to join in the odd swim session with the boys in the build up. Surprised to still be able to keep up with them as it had been the better part of 6-7 years since swimming a length with any vigour. I clearly recall a young man by the name of Cameron Brown (then a short course athlete) asked why duathlon and not triathlon? He probably can’t remember it but it really stuck with me. Good question. That summer in early 1996 I raced Nationals and after about 1 month of swimming training did enough to get selected for his age-group to attend the World Triathlon Championships. In the following two years whilst at university I dedicated myself to triathlon and was racing internationally by late of 1997 as an elite competitor in World Cup races and had already secured his first international win in Japan later that year.

1998 handed out even more opportunities for international competition. However as good as it proved, there where so many inconsistency’s with form in both training and racing. I can vividly recall doing some amazing efforts both in the pool and on the track and had created a great network about me to foster this development. Yet, as many good days were experienced, there where bad days too. The downward spiral really started with a visit to Japan in July that year. I was returning to the race he had won a year prior as a virtual newcomer to the sport. After an ok swim, he found himself off the front on the bike with a couple of other guys and a small lead going into the run. The heat was immense and ultimately took its toll. Walking by 6km, vomiting by 8km, saw his steady demise to finish in as lowly 13th place. Rushed to the med unit straight after the race he laid still, near unconscious as saline iv’s where administered in a bed of ice to drop core body temp. ‘Shit that was a bad race?’ I pondered which became the theme for the remainder of 1998. Something just wasn’t right.

The Cancer
The first ‘lumps’ were discovered the day before a World Cup Triathlon in Auckland (late 1998), however, it took some 5 months, 3 doctors, an endless array of pills to cure my mystery virus and a couple of handfuls of blood coughed up before serious moves were made to undertake a biopsy. It’s difficult to recall how many medical professionals told me that 9 times out of 10 this would never be a cancer. Virus was the prognosis of choice, never cancer. Eventually, a collection of golf ball sized tumours were removed from the left side of his neck and sent to the lab for analysis. Once the diagnosis was made, a series of full body scans were undertaken to determine both the grade and extent of the disease. I had a lymphoma (Hodgkin’s disease) with cancer spread heavily through my neck and lungs. Desperately close to my diaphragm, that pivotal point of potentially no return for many Hodgkin’s/cancer sufferers and one can’t help but wonder what might have been if he continued to ignore the obvious symptoms and listened to the doctor’s advice even if only for another couple of months? Thank god to the value of a 3rd opinion!

At the time of diagnosis (1999) Brent was a member of the New Zealand Academy Triathlon squad of whom 3 athletes where to be picked for the 2000 Sydney Olympics and he was personally about to embark on a professional triathlon career in Europe. Although very young at the time in terms of ‘triathlon years’, the Olympics were most likely beyond him at that stage of his career, however it was nice to be part of an elite group of people. 23 years old and the world at his feet …or so it seemed. Obviously the diagnosis put any World Cup or Olympic aspirations for 2000 on 'hold', as treatment and full recovery was now the dominant focus. 8 months of debilitating chemotherapy and radiation ensued. Already quite emaciated by the cancer, the chemo that was administered involved 5 large bags of toxic solutions sandwiched between a couple of bags of saline. 6-7 hours it would take to complete each session, followed by what I humbly labelled my 5-day hangover. Then one week’s respite before it all happened again. Skin turns yellow, eyes washed out, hair gone and me 13 kilo’s heavier as a result of the fluid retention due to the cacophony of toxins ingested. Aerobically shot, nothing was left. All the veins had collapsed in each arm and ached in an instant at the slightest knock. His body now scared with clear images of the chemo as it has left clearly defined trails across the back and shoulders.

The radiation was also tough, although a little lighter with regards to side effects than the chemo, for 6 weeks I was further hammered by constant tiredness, a dry course throat and severe localised sun burn to the neck and chest. Throw into the hat the fact that I have now lost a lot of feeling in the skin of the left side of his jaw, neck, chest and shoulder, the constant ghost pains/aches throughout the left shoulder, plus the taxing effect the chemo and radiation cocktail had on muscle and ligament tissue, makes the Ironman challenge all that more interesting?! To the day these symptoms all still exist, a daily reminder of how far he’s come. Maybe this is why they say it takes 5 years to recover or as close to recovery you can ever get physically?

Ironman and beyond
I completed the radiation treatment with the report we had all waited for, “no signs of disease” and by September 1999 was formally in remission. During the past five years I have re-entered the sport I love so dearly and have re-established myself at the elite level, now as an Ironman athlete rather than the shorter Olympic Triathlete I was before cancer.

So why the switch?
I found the intensity required for short course training too taxing on my immunity and for the first 12-16 months following my treatment quite rough. However the nature of Ironman training, typically lower in intensity and longer in duration was not so catabolic. Two years after the cancer I would start my first Ironman. I finished 28th overall and in a time of 9 hours 29 minutes, not too bad for someone who had recently escaped death.

Since then I have reached greater heights with multiple podium finishes at Ironman New Zealand improving my time with every effort.

I have now qualified for my sports ‘Holy Grail.’ The Ironman World Championships in Kona, Hawaii. If an ironman wasn’t hard enough, 3.8km of swimming / 180km of cycling / 42.2km of running; they hold it in this mythical place where you’re surrounded by lava, nothing grows, and you race through 40 degree temperatures and with winds approaching 100kph. So please spare a thought as I race in October this year.

Whatever happens this October or in future ironman events around the world I can move forward in the knowledge that I have created a blueprint, my best possible chance for success and no matter what set backs may arise I will have contingencies ready to battle those. Never settle for being average, being there just to make up the numbers is not enough.

And you know why I think like this? Because I am already a winner. I won the most important battle of my life. I beat cancer.