\n<\/p>\n
J<\/span>ohn McAvoy sat in a holding cell in Belmarsh prison, waiting to be processed, plotting his escape. It was 2007, he was 24, and he had been arrested for firearms offences and conspiracy to commit robbery. He knew he was facing a long stretch inside, having previously served three years for possession of a firearm. He also knew his only chance of running was through the hospital wing, so had spent the day lying to guards, pretending that he had sustained a concussion during his arrest. When the holding cell doors opened, he figured that\u2019s where he was going. Instead, he was cuffed and led away to a high-security unit (HSU).<\/p>\n When McAvoy laid eyes on the unit, the magnitude of his situation hit home. \u201cI thought: \u2018I\u2019m not going to see daylight for a long, long time.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n <\/span>\u2018I wanted to be a billionaire\u2019 \u2026 John McAvoy thought criminal life was like Hollywood.<\/span><\/p>\n The Belmarsh HSU is a prison within a prison. Getting there requires a short drive on a bus through the main prison, beyond a dedicated gate and perimeter wall. There\u2019s an airlock where door locks were operated remotely to prevent hostage taking. The spur on the HSU is small, with around eight cells, low ceilings and fluorescent lights. \u201cWe used to call it the submarine,\u201d recalls McAvoy. \u201cThere\u2019s no real natural sunlight. One of the wings hasn\u2019t got any windows at all. It\u2019s very, very claustrophobic.\u201d There was an exercise yard, but the sky was blocked out by security wire. McAvoy\u2019s fellow inmates included the radical preacher Abu Hamza and the failed 21\/7 bombers.<\/p>\n \u201cThis is the end of the world,\u201d one of the prison governors told him. And it really could have been. But for McAvoy it was a beginning: the first unlikely step toward becoming the prolific endurance athlete he is today. By the time of his release in 2012, after spending nearly a decade of his life inside, he had broken three world records and seven British records in rowing \u2013 all from the confines of the prison gym.<\/p>\n <\/span>\u2018This is the end of the world\u2019 \u2026 Belmarsh prison in Thamesmead, south-east London.<\/span> Photograph: Aardvark\/Alamy<\/p>\n McAvoy was born in London in the early 80s, and he and his sister were raised by his mother and five aunts. He never knew his biological father, who died a month before he was born. McAvoy\u2019s mother worked as a florist. They didn\u2019t have much money, \u201cbut she did everything she could to make sure her two children had everything they ever needed\u201d. McAvoy was an energetic boy, sometimes naughty. His childhood home backed on to Crystal Palace Park in south-east London, where he\u2019d make camps with his friends and poach fish from the lake.<\/p>\n When McAvoy was eight, his mother brought home her new partner, Billy Tobin. Aside from the odd uncle or cousin, Tobin was the first permanent male presence McAvoy had had at home. Tobin was an armed robber. Not that McAvoy knew that at the time; he just found him intoxicating. He remembers Tobin\u2019s charisma, his shiny black shoes, dark trousers and shirt. \u201cEven though I was young, I could tell the stuff he had on was very expensive.\u201d When Tobin went to say goodbye that day, he patted McAvoy on the head, called him a good boy and gave him a \u00a320 note (the first time McAvoy had held paper money). Tobin became McAvoy\u2019s stepfather soon afterwards. \u201cIt was just a really powerful experience.\u201d McAvoy was a driven teenager, full of ambition. \u201cI grew up in the era of Margaret Thatcher. It was all about the \u2018me\u2019. I wanted to own British Telecom. I wanted to be a billionaire.\u201d<\/p>\n At 14, he was tasked with watching duffle bags stuffed with \u00a3250,000 in cash \u2026 he was paid \u00a31,000 for the job<\/p>\n As he got older, McAvoy became aware of more criminal notoriety in his family tree. His uncle Micky McAvoy was part of the gang arrested for the Brink\u2019s-Mat heist \u2013 one of the biggest robberies in British history, in which \u00a326m in gold bullion, diamonds and cash was stolen from a warehouse at Heathrow Airport. McAvoy was 12 when he saw Fool\u2019s Gold, the 1992 TV film based on the robbery, in which Sean Bean played his uncle. \u201cIt was one of the big moments of my childhood,\u201d he says, \u201cSean Bean sitting on \u00a326m worth of gold bars and it all being glamorised.\u201d It wouldn\u2019t be long before he became involved in his stepfather\u2019s criminal world \u2013 at 14, Tobin tasked him with watching duffle bags stuffed with \u00a3250,000 in cash on their kitchen table before someone came to collect it. He was paid \u00a31,000 for the job.<\/p>\n <\/span>John McAvoy\u2019s uncle Micky McAvoy, who was played by Sean Bean in Fool\u2019s Gold, the TV movie based on the Brink\u2019s-Mat heist.<\/span> Photograph: Trinity Mirror\/Mirrorpix\/Alamy<\/p>\n When McAvoy was 16, he left school and bought a gun. Tobin was furious \u2013 he didn\u2019t want McAvoy to do anything reckless. He confiscated the weapon and took his stepson under his wing. \u201cI didn\u2019t really have friends my own age,\u201d he says. \u201cFrom 15, I was with men who were in their 30s, 40s and 50s.\u201d They were all wealthy criminals. \u201cI spent as much time as I could around these people because I wanted to learn from them and I wanted to understand how that world operated.\u201d<\/p>\n Tobin put McAvoy to work, tracking cash-delivery vans, scouting targets and passing information up the chain of command. McAvoy was a shy teenager who struggled to communicate, but Tobin taught him to be assertive. He also taught him to never trust women, never talk in houses because they might be bugged, and to only trust people in your circle. He told him to never show weakness \u2013 and to detest authority. Anyone in the system \u2013 the government, judges, the police \u2013 was viewed as the enemy. \u201cThere was always this tone of anti-authority and how corrupt the system was. Obviously, I didn\u2019t realise I was absorbing all this stuff.\u201d There was a strict code of conduct among them too: \u201cYou don\u2019t hurt women, you don\u2019t hurt children, don\u2019t hurt old people.\u201d<\/p>\n McAvoy knew that prison was a very real occupational hazard in his line of work. \u201cI think it\u2019s always in your subconscious but you think you\u2019re going to be that one to live that Hollywood life, right? You\u2019re going to be the one to sail off into the sunset.\u201d He was being followed by police \u2013 he had found tracking devices on his car \u2013 and \u201cwas always very surveillance aware. You would sometimes spot the same person a couple of times.\u201d<\/p>\n McAvoy\u2019s first arrest came at 18, after police thwarted a robbery with an estimated value of \u00a3250,000. He led the police in a motorway car chase, dumped the car (along with his gun) in south-east London, stripped down to his shorts (he\u2019d been told to always wear shorts so you don\u2019t look out of place when running) and continued on foot. After vaulting garden fences, he thought he\u2019d escaped. He found a phone box and called a friend, but was then swarmed by armed police and arrested. McAvoy was sentenced to five years for possession of a firearm. He served three, one in solitary confinement.<\/p>\n His second arrest came in 2005, two years after his release. Then 22, McAvoy was on his way to rob a security van carrying cash when he clocked an unmarked police car driving toward him. It was an ambush. The police had been investigating McAvoy and his associates for months. <\/strong>As armed officers spilled out of three police cars, McAvoy sped off, through the streets of south London.<\/p>\n \u201cI just remember this internal dialogue in my head, thinking: \u2018I\u2019m not going back to prison.\u2019 And, honestly, I was fully prepared to die in that moment to get away from them.\u201d After mounting a pavement and hitting a lamp-post, McAvoy ditched the car and bolted on foot, determined to outrun the helicopter above. He hit a dead end. The police caught up. They locked their guns on him. \u201cI genuinely thought at that moment, \u2018I\u2019m gone\u2019,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n McAvoy pleaded guilty to one count of conspiracy to commit robbery and one count of possession of firearms with intent to commit robbery. Three days later, he was transferred to Belmarsh.<\/p>\n McAvoy was given a discretionary life sentence. His uncle Micky, who did 16 years for the Brink\u2019s-Mat robbery, gave him some advice: stay connected to the real world. \u201cI always kept myself in the present,\u201d he says. He\u2019d listen to the radio and watch the news. \u201cI never got involved in prison politics. I used to think: \u2018This is not my life. I just want to get out of this place as quick as I can and get my life back.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n He had one visit from his mum. It took a few weeks for the governor to clear it. She drove to the prison, then took the bus to the HSU, before sitting in a booth behind armoured glass. A prison officer sat behind McAvoy with a pen and paper. They weren\u2019t allowed to speak in code, couldn\u2019t cover their mouths, and there were cameras pointing at both of their faces. Abu Hamza was in the booth next to him having a legal visit. McAvoy was with his mum for 90 minutes. He clocked that it was a deeply traumatic experience for her. \u201cI made a decision that day \u2013 I went back to my cell and she didn\u2019t see me again until the day that I got out, nearly eight years later.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/span>\u2018Being in prison shaped me as an athlete\u2019 \u2026 McAvoy running in the French Alps in 2023.<\/span> Photograph: James Mitchell<\/p>\n At first, he couldn\u2019t understand why he was on the same unit as terrorists. He expressed as much to a visitor from the Ministry of Justice, but was told they didn\u2019t want to give him any opportunity to run. \u201cYou get seen as a piece of shit,\u201d says McAvoy. \u201cThere was never any talk about rehabilitation or moving forward in life in a positive direction. It\u2019s just like, that\u2019s who you are, and that\u2019s what you are, and that\u2019s how you\u2019re gonna stay for the rest of your life.\u201d<\/p>\n McAvoy was, he says, goal-obsessed. He read diligently, and kept fit by doing what he called \u201ccell circuits\u201d \u2013 thousands of sit-ups, step-ups and push-ups. He was comfortable in solitude and never struggled with boredom. \u201cI never had mental health [issues] in there,\u201d he says. \u201cI never allowed my mind to drift too far in the future.\u201d<\/p>\n After two years in Belmarsh, he was transferred to Full Sutton, a maximum security prison in Yorkshire, before later being moved to Lowdham Grange, a category B prison in Nottinghamshire. At first, McAvoy\u2019s goal was simple: play the game until he was moved into a low enough security prison, then abscond. \u201cI thought the minute they give me an opportunity in a semi-open prison, I\u2019m gone. And I\u2019ll go to Europe, I\u2019ll be living the lifestyle of a criminal. That was my mindset.\u201d<\/p>\n Three years into his sentence, however, all that changed. A close friend, Aaron, died in a car crash in the Netherlands. He\u2019d been attempting to escape after robbing an ATM along with a couple of associates. McAvoy saw CCTV of the incident on a news report the following night.<\/p>\n \u201cThat was the lowest I think I\u2019ve ever been in my whole life,\u201d he says. \u201cIt just made me have this massive reality check about my life and where I was and what I was doing.\u201d It was a grim catalyst for change. \u201cI felt lost. I didn\u2019t know what I wanted to do and where I wanted to go. I was trapped in this physical environment and I needed to escape it. I needed to get away from the prisoners. I wanted my life to be something else than this.\u201d<\/p>\n McAvoy went to the prison gym. He noticed another prisoner on a rowing machine, who\u2019d had more than the usual allotted time in the gym. He enquired and the prisoner told him he was rowing 1m metres for a children\u2019s charity. McAvoy asked the gym officer if he could do the same. That is how he started rowing.<\/p>\n Rowing was like meditation. It was very rhythmical<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t know what I was doing. I didn\u2019t know anything about technique. But when I was on that machine, it was like I created this portal that took me out of prison. Everyone left me alone. No one spoke to me. I was in my own thoughts and then it was like meditation. It was very rhythmical.\u201d He suspects now that he\u2019d discovered the runner\u2019s high. \u201cIt was like the machine became an extension of my body.\u201d<\/p>\n McAvoy did the first 1m <\/strong>metres in a month. He asked if he could do another sponsored row, and then another. Someone suggested he do the equivalent of rowing the Atlantic Ocean \u2013 5,000km. \u201cI thought it\u2019d be quite a nice thing to do and to say I\u2019d achieved.\u201d One evening, as he was coming toward the end of his latest charity effort, he decided to pound through a really hard 10,000 metres. A prison officer, Darren Davis, took an interest in his impressive performance. \u201cA couple of days later he came back and gave me all the records that were set on an indoor row machine.\u201d<\/p>\n In just over a year, McAvoy broke three indoor rowing world records and seven British records. He smashed the fastest marathon by seven minutes, took the record for the longest continuous row (45 hours) and rowed the farthest distance in 24 hours (263,396km).<\/p>\n <\/span>\u2018He changed my life in prison\u2019 \u2026 McAvoy, right, with Darren Davis after he\u2019d broken the record for rowing the farthest distance in 24 hours in 2011. <\/span> Photograph: Courtesy of John McAvoy<\/p>\n McAvoy hated Davis at first. He wasn\u2019t interested in reform and saw the guard as an extension of the system. But Davis\u2019s unwavering interest in McAvoy\u2019s performances won him over. \u201cHe saw that I had that talent and he put that belief in me that I could achieve something else in my life.\u201d Davis was present for all of McAvoy\u2019s record-breaking efforts inside. He\u2019d pull up a chair and sit with him. If McAvoy was doing a 24-hour row, Davis would take the day off, come in and stay with him the whole time, coaching him.<\/p>\n \u201cHe changed my life in prison,\u201d says McAvoy. \u201cHe wanted to help me for no other reason other than wanting to help me. There\u2019s nothing in it other than the purity of a human that wanted to do something for someone else without anything in it for themselves.\u201d<\/p>\n Today, Davis is one of McAvoy\u2019s best friends. \u201cI knew when my friend died I would never commit a crime again, and I don\u2019t know where that road would have taken me,\u201d says McAvoy. \u201cBut I wouldn\u2019t have the life I\u2019ve got today unless Darren believed in me, then gave me the opportunities to use the gift that he saw I had.\u201d<\/p>\n McAvoy started studying for a personal trainer qualification in prison. When he was moved to Sudbury, a category D prison, he got a job as a trainer at a Fitness First gym. He\u2019d catch a 7am bus from the prison, six days a week. In between training clients, he studied endurance athletes. Nine months later, in 2012, he was granted parole and released from prison. Just under eight years had passed since his second conviction. The first thing he did when he left prison was visit the grave of his friend Aaron.<\/p>\n McAvoy had one goal: to become a professional athlete. At 30, he knew time wasn\u2019t on his side, so he began training for a triathlon: he joined a rowing club, taught himself to swim via YouTube, bought his first bike and learned to ride. He\u2019s since established himself as a formidable endurance athlete, running numerous ultramarathons, triathlons and Ironman events.<\/p>\n \u201cBeing in prison and being in solitude and isolation for years, it definitely shaped me as an athlete,\u201d he says. \u201cI\u2019ve been in a segregation cell \u2026 Everything else now to me is a privilege. It\u2019s a luxury.\u201d<\/p>\n The race that stands out most to him is his Ironman debut in 2013, in Bolton town centre. He used to watch the contest in prison, and after his release had just six weeks to train for it. \u201cI remember feeling this massive sense of achievement,\u201d he says. \u201cI\u2019d probably say that\u2019s one of my best performances in regards of the amount of time I trained to do it. And Darren was at the finishing line.\u201d<\/p>\n At first, McAvoy didn\u2019t tell anyone he met through training about his past life. But as rumours began to swirl around his rowing club \u2013 where had this redoubtable machine been this whole time? \u2013 people began to Google him. He decided to share his story in a blog. He initially worried about the criticism. That people would say he\u2019d done a lot of bad things and didn\u2019t deserve to have what he\u2019d now got; that he shouldn\u2019t be put on a pedestal. But he is very careful not to glamorise his past life. In 2016, his memoir was published \u2013 and he\u2019s had many offers to turn his life story into a film. But he has always turned them down.<\/p>\n <\/span>\u2018I was free again\u2019 \u2026 McAvoy in the Alps.<\/span> Photograph: James Mitchell<\/p>\n Apart from sport, McAvoy campaigns for prison reform. Though he feels that there are some prisoners permanently tied to a life of organised crime, \u201cthe vast majority aren\u2019t that and I genuinely do think you can help them,\u201d he says. As a teenager, he romanticised criminal life. \u201c<\/strong>It\u2019s a very toxic, horrible world. Once you get in it, it\u2019s very difficult to remove yourself from it \u2026 That\u2019s why I can relate to a lot of these kids that end up in prison for gang stuff because I understand how they can get sucked into that world. It\u2019s very difficult for them to see anything outside that until they get to a point of growing up and maturing.\u201d<\/p>\n Through his prison reform work, he\u2019s advised the Ministry of Justice and Theresa May\u2019s policy team at No 10. \u201cI think prevention is better than cure,\u201d he says. \u201cAnd if you put more investment in people before they end up in prison, you\u2019ve got a better chance to keep them out of prison.\u201d ootball ClubHe recalls one occasion, during a parkrun inside prison grounds, when he talked to the chair of Brentford FC, who was there on a visit. \u201cI said to him, I could halve the criminal justice bill for young offenders. And he asked, \u2018how would you do it?\u2019. And I said, I\u2019d send all these kids to the best private school in the UK.\u201d<\/p>\n The first time he was allowed to leave the country he headed to Lake Annecy, in Haute-Savoie, south-eastern France, to do a training camp with a group of triathletes. It was the first time he\u2019d been to the mountains. \u201cIt was the most amazing feeling ever,\u201d he says. \u201cI was free again. That was probably one of the happiest days of my life.\u201d<\/p>\n I\u2019d been in such a dark situation and I\u2019ve managed to get myself out of it because I had the will, drive and determination \u2013 and also the support<\/p>\n Now, McAvoy has one motivation. \u201cIt\u2019s quite simple, actually \u2013 it\u2019s helping other people. I know it sounds a bit cheesy, but I\u2019m in a very privileged position now where I\u2019ve come from nothing,\u201d he says. \u201cI\u2019d been in such a dark situation and I\u2019ve managed to get myself out of it because I had the will, drive, determination and the mindset, but then also I had the support and help and that unlocked all of these things.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/span>Running up that hill \u2026 McAvoy, left, and Davis at the Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc in the French Alps in 2024.<\/span> Photograph: William Howe<\/p>\n If McAvoy wanted, he could make a decent living as a professional public speaker. Instead, most of his energy is spent working with young people on his Alpine Run Project \u2013 a six-month fitness programme culminating in the famous Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc run through the French Alps. He set up the project in 2023, with the help of various partners including Nike (which started sponsoring him in 2017 after one of its executives read about his story, and has done so ever since). It was an idea he\u2019d had more than seven years ago: taking underprivileged kids from inner cities out on trail runs and exposing them to opportunities and Olympic athletes. He wanted them to experience a place that profoundly changed him. In the first year, 14 kids took part. This year, more than 500 have been involved. He cycles through the stories of the children he\u2019s come into contact with through the project, and he\u2019s fizzing with excitement as he talks about the impact the programme has had on them, and him.<\/p>\n <\/span>Having an impact \u2026 McAvoy at the Alpine Run Project launch event.<\/span> Photograph: Alpine Run Project<\/p>\n You get the sense that he\u2019s trying to be the mentor he lacked when his stepfather came into his life at an impressionable age. \u201cI\u2019ve got no doubt whatsoever, if I had anyone else come into my life \u2013 Richard Branson, an Olympic athlete, whoever \u2013 when I was that age, my life would have gone down a very different road.\u201d<\/p>\n McAvoy\u2019s uncle Micky died in 2023. The last time McAvoy saw his stepfather was in the reception area in Belmarsh in 2002. While being transferred, McAvoy heard his voice and called out his name. They shouted to each other and convinced the police to let them see each other. They opened his stepfather\u2019s cell. \u201cI remember seeing him that day in that reception area in Belmarsh. And he was handcuffed to a prison officer who was half his age,\u201d he says. \u201cIt was very weird. Going back to when I was a kid and when I first saw him, then all the years I spent with him and all the things I was doing with him, to then see him in that situation in prison, and the way he just looked really weak. He had lost all his power. And that was the last time I saw him.\u201d Tobin has been in prison ever since.<\/p>\n Does McAvoy hold any resentment or blame toward his stepfather? \u201cNo,\u201d he says emphatically. \u201cI know it sounds weird \u2026 but I was loved. I genuinely was. I wasn\u2019t abused. No one ever made me do anything I didn\u2019t want to do. Did they encourage me? I don\u2019t think they overtly did at the beginning, but I don\u2019t think they realised what they were doing. I think it was quite careless,\u201d he says. \u201cI always made a conscious decision about what I wanted to do and no one ever made me do anything.\u201d<\/p>\n As for whether he has any regrets about his past, he says: \u201cI always regret what I did because my behaviour affected other people,, but I don\u2019t regret the 10 years I spent in prison because I feel as if I learned so much about myself. And yeah, I would go through that journey again if I had to.\u201d<\/p>\n For more information go to Alpine Run Project or Instagram<\/em><\/p>\n