NRL Video: Parramatta pre-season training breaks NRL journalist

I MUST be the silliest man in rugby league.

How else can you explain me voluntarily joining another NRL side for pre-season training?

Last year, I experienced a gruelling session with the now premiers, Cronulla.

This year, I went into camp with Parramatta on the Central Coast.

To make things even more daunting was the fact the Eels were preparing for something their staff had nicknamed the “torture session”.

For many of the players, the name hit the mark but for me, it undersold it. It was beyond torture. I left the Central Coast mentally broken and physically exhausted.

As a journalist, you often ask players how pre-season training has been and their response is usually the same. They talk about how hard it is but this session is the toughest thing I have ever done.

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So what did I learn from this experience?

Firstly, the players have an incredible bond. Tim Mannah is a natural-born leader. He influences everyone around him with his words and actions. Cameron King and Kaysa Pritchard are team men and selfless. Brad Takairangi is a larrikin. Clint Gutherson is incredibly fit and a vital part of the team. And Brad Arthur is a man who not only knows what he wants from his men but knows how to get it.

Welcome to Parra’s pre-season.

ENTERING CAMP

With the team already in camp since Monday, I set out on Thursday morning at 4.30am in Sydney to make the journey up the M1 and join my new teammates for a 6.30am start. I’m joined by two of Fox Sports’ finest video producers, Evan George and Johnathan Barhoumeh, who are documenting the day (see the video above).

While I was feeling sorry for myself because of the early start, I wasn’t the only one up early to train, with the forwards starting their day at 5.30am.

We pull into the car park of One Fitness at Mingara and can see some of the players are already leaving. I’ll be doing my gym session with the backs and halves.

I pass Tim Mannah as I walk into the gym and he asks me if I’ll be joining them for the sand dunes later that day. I tell him I’ll see him there and go over to meet with Eels football manager Craig Sultana, who has helped make this whole day happen. He introduces me to strength and conditioning coach Nathan Beutel, who is running this morning’s gym session and gives me a brief run-through of what we’ll be doing.

Legendary trainer Ronny Palmer and coach Brad Arthur (BA) come over soon afterwards. BA shares his memories of last year’s session and tells me he’ll be joining in. I was impressed that BA was going to be running the torture course again but slightly concerned that not only would I be flogged by the team but their coach too.

THE GYM

After throwing on a training shirt Sultana had brought me, it was time to get to work. By now the bulk of the backs had arrived and we shuffled into this small training studio at the back of the gym.

Brad Takairangi sees me and calls out, “Hey Robbo.” I give him a smile and shake hands with my twin Jeff Robson, as Beutel starts running through the session and hands the players their programs. Beutel introduces me to the group and asks me to explain what I was hoping to achieve by joining the session. I give a brief explanation and we’re ready to go.

Josh Hoffman walks over and introduces himself. “Are you doing the beach session too?” he enquires. “The Titans go into army boot camp today. I was speaking to some of the boys earlier. The Broncos do a similar thing too.”

Nathan then asks Clint Gutherson if he will pair up with me for the session and while he was a little reluctant, he agreed.

When I was speaking with the training staff earlier, they were all raving about how much of a standout Gutherson has been so far this pre-season, so I was looking forward to seeing what he could do.

First off, we loosen up the shoulders with some superman flies before throwing some tin around with an overhead shoulder press. I’m following Gutherson like a shadow, before Nathan calls out for us to get in groups of three and Hoffman joins up with us.

Everything the Eels are doing today focuses around explosiveness. We put 60 kilos on the barbell and take turns pressing it above our heads.

Ronnie Palmer works on my technique with me and then we’re into rope pull-ups, 32 kilo kettlebell bent-over rows, clap push-ups and medicine ball throws. I lie on the ground and the boys take turns catching the 10 kilo ball as I push it off my chest and into the air.

Now I catch it for them. I take a moment to look around the gym and there’s a lot of laughter and high-fiving between sets. It’s a really friendly environment. The session itself has been really enjoyable.

Nothing too strenuous but you felt like you’ve worked out. It was essentially circuit training. Like something you’d get from doing F45 but with fewer reps. I have a nice pump in my arms and chest and a bit of a sweat.

It was the kind of weights session I was expecting on a day when we were going to be flogging our legs at the beach. But we’re not done. Impromptu abs session! Ronnie leads the way.

We spread out in a circle and hit the deck. First 20 regular sit-ups, then leg raises, then holds and twists. It burns. Now more leg raises with holds. It really burns.

I look over my shoulder and can see the sweat dripping off George Jennings’ head and down his nose. A few players down from him, older brother Michael Jennings has hardly broken a sweat and looks like he could go all day.

We finish off with 20 more sit-ups and we’re done. I have a quick chat to NYC half Troy Dargon, who is doing all this for the first time. He tells me how much he’s enjoying his first full pre-season with the NRL boys. This is their fifth week back at training.

The trainers then read out who’s in each group for the beach session later today. We’re split into four groups. I’m in group three.

I sneak a peep at the results sheet from last year. Gutherson and Mick Gordon finished equal-first in 38 minutes. It doesn’t mean anything to me now, because I have no idea how far we are running ... but it soon will.

The boys leave the gym to go and get breakfast and check out of the caravan park where they’d been staying. The team are headed straight back to Sydney once we’re done.

THE BEACH

Soldiers Beach is a 20-minute drive from Mingara and a phenomenal stretch of sand. Half of the team is already there by the time I pull into the car park. I run into Kenny Edwards, who I have a quick chat with.

Assistant coach Steve Murphy then comes over for a quick chat and hands me a hat from the back of his car.

We’ve been at the beach about five minutes I can already feel my head being burnt. Bald white boy problems, hey!

The team van pulls in and equipment starts slowly coming out. GPS systems, strapping tables and boxes of bottled water are set up.

While some of the forwards like James Hasson and Daniel Alvaro get their ankles strapped, Kaysa Pritchard plays his music through a portable speaker and Edwards shows off his moves, to the delight of Corey Norman and Tepai Moeroa.

Hoffman, Mannah and Suaia Matagi have a chat with me about the day so far and how camp has been this week, while King and Issac De Gois put their game faces on and pace around the car park as we prepare for the run.

The GPS systems are handed out. Sports science analyst Louise Marvin hands me what looks like a video camera battery. It goes inside a wetsuit-like material that you wear like a sports bra. I’m not sure how to put it on, so Takairangi puts the tracking system into the little pocket for me and helps me slide the bra on. Now that’s a teammate!

Now that we’re all kitted out with our gear, I get a quick hamstring rub from one of the trainers, rub sunscreen on my face, neck and ears and follow Michael Jennings through the track down to the beach.

“I should have worn long socks,” Jennings proclaimed as sand filled his shoes. As we head down to the base of the dunes I chat about the day with lock Matt Woods and Queensland 20s backrower Jack Morris, before Beutel gives us a brief run-through of how the session is designed.

It goes like this — three sand dunes, beach run, through the bush, five laps of the boat ramp, down to the lighthouse, to the beach and back. Seems simple enough. Gulp.

LET THE TORTURE BEGIN

So I’m standing with the likes of Semi Radradra, Bevan French and Takairangi in group three at the base of the first sand dune. The dune runs 100 metres or so and has three agility poles at the top and witches hats at the bottom marking out where we need to run. Beutel starts his stop watch and gives us the orders to start our run.

Already my shoes are filled with sand from the walk to the dunes but after 10 seconds, any pockets of air are soon filled with the soft sand from the dune. I watch Radrardra, who is directly in front of me. His shoes sink further into the dune with every step.

We’ve been running for 20 seconds and already half of the group are on all fours and using their hands to get up the steep incline. I can no longer stand vertically. Gravity wants to send me back down towards the final group at the base waiting for their turn.

As we pass the first marker and hop down the dune, I can feel my heart pounding. As we start our ascent toward the second marker, my legs start to feel heavy. I keep the pace with the rest of the group and power up the dune as my glutes (or buttocks for those playing at home) begin to burn. Two down, one to go.

The final climb is the hardest, although it has the least elevation.

My heart is pounding. The GPS reads that my heart rate has climbed to 80 per cent above my average resting heart rate. Already our group is scattered and Pritchard is leading the way with French just behind him. I’m about the middle of the pack.

Fatigue has already set in and I feel like I’m moving in slow motion. Short of breath and beginning to realise I haven’t drunk nearly enough water. “I’m in trouble,” I think to myself.

As we skip down the dune and on to a stretch of beach, I look for the hard sand to run on. I couldn’t find any. I’m already blowing. My heart rate is in the red zone and I’m at 90 per cent of my maximum, which is where it will stay for the remainder of the run.

I start cursing myself for going too hard too early. I suck in as many deep breaths as I can and overtake a couple of players. Now we have a gradual incline through the soft sand on the beach and into the forest.

It’s here the sand becomes extremely loose and I am forced to walk.

I watch new recruit Marata Niukore from the Warriors jog past me. It’s at this point, I face my first mental hurdle. The sun is beaming down on us and I’m sweating from every gland in my body. I’m in trouble. Big trouble.

“I can’t do this,” I start thinking. “I need to come up with an excuse. Dehydration? Torn hamstring? Dizziness? There’s no way I can go on.”

As I run through various scenarios to quit the session but still save face, I pass 20s coach Luke Burt, who is encouraging the boys. I shuffle past him but my shuffle soon goes back to a sloppy-looking speed walk.

FINALLY ON LAND

I can’t explain the relief I feel when I finally exit the bush and see the sweet, sweet surface of a gravel road. Sure, there’s steam rising up and heating my shoes but at least it’s sturdy.

There’s a couple of the training staff standing by with water bottles and after a quick squirt, I continue shuffling away. It’s at this point I start getting dizzy. Legit dizzy.

I start thinking, “Maybe I won’t need to pretend I’m dehydrated. Perhaps I’ll pass out? It’s not the best way to end the day but it would make for a good video.”

I’m averaging around 171 beats per minute. I’m above the red zone. With the lactic acid coursing through my legs, I follow the fence around the road which has several families enjoying a picnic in the park.

In the distance, I can see one of the boys from my group. He’s too far ahead to tell who it is and he’s really striding out.

On the opposite side of the road, I see Frank Pritchard and Matagi. Maybe it was the exhaustion but for whatever reason, I thought they were on their way to do a second lap of the lighthouse, so I cross the road and follow the big boys.

THE MISTAKE

I have no idea why I thought we had to make two trips to the lighthouse but it turns out we didn’t. I’d just made a huge mistake and I would end up paying for it later in the day.

But at this point, I was oblivious to my error and I shuffled up alongside Matagi before he surged ahead of me. Again my jog slowed to a shuffle and then to a walk as the heat really started to get to me.

“Blahh,” I yelled in frustration. I’m exhausted. I’m nearing empty and I’m not even halfway. It’s stinking hot. A dry kind of heat and I’ve had enough. Again I try and jog a little. It lasts a few steps and I’m back to walking.

Now more of the boys are catching up to me and soon pass me as the windy road continues to go on and on and on. As I turn the corner, the road opens up to a carpark and I see the lighthouse.

Leaving the road for a paved path, I see BA, who yells out something along the lines of, “Great work Nath.” The trainers tell us to go down the stairs which lead to the beach, touch the sand and come back up. I follow the stairs down, trailing one of the boys down, touch the sand and start my climb back up.

I see Mannah stick out his hand as he comes towards me. “Good stuff Nath,” he says as we high-five. At the top of the steps a line of Eels singlets pass me and we all high-five.

Now I’m feeling the love. The boys are hurting just as much as I am but we’re in this together. King, Norman, Jack Morris, Will Smith, Edwards, Cody Nelson and a host of others offer their encouragement as I - surprise, surprise - begin to slow down again.

I’m hurting and start to walk as Mannah catches back up to me and grabs me around the waist.

“Keep moving Nath. Find your breath and keep moving. Don’t walk,” he demanded as he took off in front of me.

I was inspired. I was motivated. I was jogging. I was … walking. Sorry, Tim!

As I tread the hot gravel and back towards the beach, I recognise a lot of the faces from group four starting to catch up. Gutherson passes by, then Robson and Woods.

Here’s Frank the Tank. He sticks out his hand and says something to me. I don’t know what. I’ve lost my bearings but it was encouraging.

ALL BY MYSELF

I’ve walked, attempted to jog and shuffled along the road for what feels like an eternity when I turn around the final bend and see the park. It’s here I realise I never ran the boat ramp. I see one of the trainers and asked where the boat ramp was.

“Haven’t you done it yet?” he asked. Nope. I ran down to the lighthouse first. He pointed me to the corner of this street where another trainer was waiting. I explained that I got confused and missed the boat ramp, so he directs me down this steep hill and tells me I have five laps. Cool. Wait, what? How many laps?

When I hit the top, Ronny Palmer is now standing on the sidewalk waiting for me. He has a laugh as I explain my mistake and throws me a bottle of water. I get more water on my neck than I do in my mouth, which goes to show how exhausted I am. I start my journey back down the hill.

“Keep going mate,” Ronny offers me as I reach the top. Again, I turn around and shuffle back down the hill. I start to wonder if I would have found another gear if I had some of the other boys doing it with me.

I jog for a moment before the incline gets the better of me and I’m forced to walk. My legs are burning. I can feel the lactic acid eating away at my quads and glutes.

I’m running on empty. I see the water below and all I can think about is diving in. But I can’t. I have to finish.

As I walk back up the hill for my last lap, I can’t see anyone else in sight aside from a couple of locals heading for a swim. Ronny directs me towards the park in the direction of the beach. I’m on the home stretch.

BREAKING POINT

I jog across the road and there’s no one around but a handful of Eels staff. I can’t see any players. “I hope they haven’t all packed up and left without me,” I think.

I continue shuffling across the park and towards the bush when one of the trainers tells me I’m on the home stretch: “Back through the bush and down to the beach,” he directs me.

I grab a quick sip of hydrolytes and venture back into the sand. I’m absolutely spent. I’m starting to feel dizzy, I’m thirsty and I’m gagging. Again I see Burt, who asks how I’m travelling.

“I’m dying,” I tell him. He tells me I’m almost done. “Just the dunes to go, mate,” he said.

Wait, what? Dunes? I’ve done the dunes. “You’ve got to finish the way you started.” Shut the front door! (I didn’t say shut the front door but something to that effect.) I jog down the soft sand and see the beach.

Off to the right, in front of the dunes, almost all of the Eels players are recovering. There’s about six or so players climbing the dunes and it dawns on me; I’m dead last. I’m also exhausted.

My legs have started to seize up. I can barely breathe and I’ve lost any desire to continue. I’ve been broken. I shuffle along the beach and towards the dune. I throw my shoes off and hit the dune.

I’ve hit a wall. I probably would have cried if I had any fluid left in me. But I have nothing left. My tank is on empty. It feels like an eternity to get up to the witches hat.

The boys are calling out to me from below. I take three steps. Stop. My heart is pounding and so is my head.

A few cheer, a few laugh and a few clap. At least I think that’s what I heard.

At this point I’m in a whole other world. I start crawling. In reality, the top of the dune is 20 metres away but it might as well be Mt Everest. I’m literally defeated.

Slowly, very slowly — I continue to shuffle up the sand and to the top of the cone. I get to my feet and let momentum bring me back down.

Feeling, looking and walking like a zombie, I wander towards BA, who asks how I’m going. “I’m f***ed. Dizzy. Dead,” I tell him.

HERE COME THE BOYS

“Someone help him,” BA calls. At least I think it was BA. Immediately, Cameron King pushes through a group of players and tells me he’ll go up the dune with me. Kaysa Pritchard pops up and says he’ll do the last leg with me. I’m stoked they are willing to help but I’m so knackered all I can do is nod.

King starts out walking alongside me before my legs seize up once again and I need a break.

“Keep moving,” he instructs. “Just give me a few seconds,” I reply.

“C’mon. Let’s go. Follow my footsteps,” he shouted back. So now Cam is leading the way. I can barely look up, so I watch his feet and follow them.

Again I seize up. “Can we crawl?” I ask him. He agrees and digs his arms into the sand as we continue the climb.

Again I stop. “Kirisome is behind you, keep going. Don’t let him beat you,” he tells me. I turn over my shoulder and see Kirisome Auva’a, who was in group four, and a handful of players on the beach below and continue to climb. We’re at the top and I can stand.

Again, I waddle down the dune and reach the bottom. I’ve never breathed so heavily in my life. Trying to suck in some big ones is cut short when Kaysa jumps up in front of me. “C’mon bra, let’s do this,” he says and grabs me by the arm. We start our climb and again I stall.

Kaysa pops up behind me and literally pushes my backside up the dune. Remember when I said my heart rate was 171 bpm? We’ll it’s now 189 bpm. For 47.3 per cent of this session, my heart rate has been at 95-100 per cent of my max. No wonder I’m struggling!

Auva’a has gained on me. He has helpers with him and now there’s nine or 10 of us heading up the dune as a unit. Daniel Alvaro leads the pack with David Gower, Rory O’Brien, Vai Toutai, Mannah, Edwards and Pritchard also embarking on the climb.

“Stand up,” Mannah tells us as we reach the cone. I can’t. So I crawl around it before finally standing and descend down. Legs are jelly. Head is spinning. I’m finished. Albeit last, but I still finished.

After a minute or so, I get my bearings back and thank the boys for helping me out. Mannah comes down and tells me he’s proud of me for sticking it out. He said he beat his time from last year and that Gutherson won the race for the second straight year.

A team photo, dip in the ocean, feed and plenty of fluids later and all the gear is packed up and the players are headed back to Sydney.

After a cold shower, I was back in the car too. And in case you were wondering, I slept like a baby, although I was walking around like a 90-year-old for the next three days.

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