Told he wouldn’t run again, Peter Frizzell defied the odds

Peter Frizzell in 2023 after he broke his neck and a vertebrae in his back in a bike accident. Photo by Monique Preston

BOUND TO A BODY BRACE, THE REHABILITATION PROCESS WAS TEDIOUS, MENTALLY DRAINING AND LONELY – BUT PETER FRIZZELL’S RESILIENCE WAS UNWAVERING.

STORY: CALLUM FARQUHAR.

Two years ago, Peter Frizzell was lying in a hospital bed.

Seventeen days in the ward, the 71-year-old had only just begun the arduous recovery from a freak cycling accident.

Riding in a group of four, Frizzell’s life would take a shocking turn, as a fellow rider hit a pothole, causing the trailing Frizzell to fly over the handlebars and land head first on the tarmac.

The injury carnage was severe.

Frizzell and the other rider were airlifted to the Alfred Hospital, as Frizzell suffered four fractures to the neck and one to the thoracic spine.

The road ahead looked desolate and demanding.

There were genuine concerns from medical staff and physiotherapists that Frizzell would never cycle or run again.

Bound to a body brace, then a neck brace, the rehabilitation process was tedious, mentally draining and lonely.

But an unwavering resilience and determination is an innate part of who Frizzell is.

Despite the external concerns around the cyclist’s mobility, Frizzell had an intrinsic belief he would overcome his immobile state, albeit not without its dark days.

“Every time they (physiotherapists) tapped me I could feel it, so I thought I reckon I could get back to my feet,” he said.

“But I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to run again.

“You’re staring at the ceiling all the time.

“I was fortunate to have great support at home with my wife, and my brother came to live with us too, to help get the body brace on and off every day.”

Eventually, Frizzell could manage to walk again in the braces, providing him with hope of the fitness he could eventually reattain.

However, it was no easy process.

“Walking. That’s what kept me going,” he said.

“I thought, damn, if I can walk, surely when this (body brace) comes off, I’ll be all right.

“I wasn’t for a long time in the end, I had a lot of rehab with physios and people like that — my body had shut down, my back had shut down basically.”

As Frizzell’s rehab progressed and his mobility improved and returned to healthy levels, he joined a run club.

There, he met his coach Chris Armstrong, whose influence would be critical in the coming months.

Enjoying being back on his feet, Frizzell wanted a challenge to demonstrate how far he had come since the accident, however, his pace was impacted by his recovery, so beating previous personal events was out of the picture.

It led to the decision to aim for one of running’s most enduring events.

“I thought, I can’t beat my times in these other events, what haven’t I done?” Frizzell said.

“So I reached out to my coach and said, ‘Do you reckon you can get me through this marathon?’ It was about three, four months out.

“He said, ‘Yeah, I reckon we can do it’.”

A deliberate slow and steady plan was put into place by Armstrong to ease Frizzell’s running capacity, but even still, there were speed bumps and hiccups along the way.

Minor injury knocks set Frizzell back, and the Shepparton trooper was only ever able to run 24 kilometres as his largest training run — ideally many marathoners aim for at least one long run upwards of 30km before the 42.2km.

But Frizzell was still committed to the challenge, and, despite the hurdles, his resilience continued to shine through every hump in the road.

As he stood at the start line, Frizzell remembers the nerves pulsating through his body.

Over 24 months prior, he was nearly paralysed.

Now, he was about to achieve a feat many able-bodied aspire for.

The beginning went according to plan – Frizzell and Armstrong had determined he run two kilometres before short walking breaks to not push himself beyond his limits.

But the 71-year-old found things were going exceedingly well.

So, he kept on running.

“Big mistake,” Frizzell said.

“I thought, I’m going well, well ahead of a five-hour pace, so I tried to push through longer periods of running.

“I was running with this other girl, it was her first marathon too, and she said at one stage, ‘You go ahead’, and she mowed me down anyway.”

As the marathon wore on, Frizzell’s running ability declined, but his perseverance shone on full display.

With eight kilometres to go, Armstrong joined Frizzell’s side to encourage the man right to the end, providing mental support and nutritional aids to hold Frizzell’s energy high.

As Frizzell approached the finish line, all he could think about was his fatigue, but he had come so far to let anyone down at the final hurdle.

“I just remember being tired, and I could barely stand up,” he said.

“I saw my son and I remember him in disbelief when I first told him, saying, ‘You can’t run a marathon’.

“He’s a good runner and a physio, and he thought it would take a toll on my body.”

But Frizzell crossed the line unaided and at pace, recording a sub-six hour time.

With the injury hiccups and race road bumps throughout, the time has Frizzell wanting more — if his body can handle it again.

“I’ve been with my physio, and he said I shouldn’t,” Frizzell said.

“I haven’t said it to the coach, but I think I can do better, although it just may not be sensible.”

Sensible? Hardly.

Possible? Certainly.

But one thing about Frizzell is clear: his mental fortitude is unbreakable.

And as he leaves a message for those who read, it’s evident that should he want to defy the odds again, he has the ability to.

Because Frizzell wasn’t supposed to run again.

Now, he’s officially a marathoner.

“We all have setbacks in life,” he said.

“If you’ve got a goal or something you want to do, go out and do it.”