Rich Roll was fairly successful as a swimmer in his university days, but having graduated with a law degree and got a ‘proper’ job, he acquired a taste for booze and drugs. He kicked both habits in his early thirties, only to replace them with junk food. Overweight, unfit, and in need of a change, he made the radical decisions to a) go vegan and b) take up endurance sports, and achieved various superhuman feats before settling down (a little – he’s still far from sedentary) to become a bestselling author, guru of all things plant-based, and podcaster.
Although it can veer into hippy-dippy territory at times, his podcast is one of my favourites. It focuses mainly on sports of the extreme variety, health, and wellness, but encompasses plenty of other topics in between, and features some fascinating guests.
The episode in the below YouTube video is a typical example, being the story of a guy who developed an ingenious new strategy and training regime for his first entry in a 100-mile trail running race, then surprised himself and pretty much everyone else by winning it and breaking the course record into the bargain. His interview is the kind that I personally really enjoy, being a mixture of tales of derring-do, technical stuff about VO2 max, on-the-run nutrition, zone 2 cardio, etc., and I-saw-the-light, life-changing, you-can-do-it-too inspiration.
Other particularly memorable guests on Rich Roll have included bonkers endurance swimmer Ross Edgley (be prepared for anecdotes about how and how not to evacuate your bowels when you’re forbidden by the Guinness adjudicators from doing so on dry land) and John McAvoy, who went from serving a prison sentence for armed robbery to breaking rowing machine world records, then going straight and becoming a professional endurance athlete.
The Rich Roll podcast was one of the main reasons that I went vegan myself, and perhaps my favourite episode of all featured Andy Rammage, the former footballer (i.e. soccer player) who not only quit drinking like Rich, but also started the One Year No Beer movement. Partly thanks to the two of them, I will also soon celebrate my ninth year of no beer (or wine, or cider, or saké…).
