Brothers in arms

Alistair continues: “You treat coaching as advice, then you sit there and you make the decision.”

That responsibility is evident even in how they approach the night before a big race. Many athletes try to eat exactly the same meal every time – it’s part of a routine, another decision they don’t have to make, perhaps even a psychological crutch. The Brownlees don’t. Their logic: as long as you eat well and don’t get sick, eating a specific thing isn’t essential for performance. If you think you can only run on one particular meal, what happens when you forget to bring it to a race 3,000 miles away?

The same is true of superstitions in general. “When you’ve raced as long as we have and in as many different places, superstitions tend to fall by the wayside, because they never work out very well.”

They’ve stuck to a similar routine since childhood, a schedule originally based on Alistair’s school timetable. While having a familiar routine helps ensure you get out of bed in the morning to train (“If you give yourself an option, you’re in trouble…”) novelty and variation are also vital. “I get the impression that we enjoy our training a lot more than most people,” says Jonny. That means keeping things fresh with new training routes, and using longer loops rather than short, repetitive circuits. “You’d be amazed. Some people say it’s not really training unless it’s boring,” says Alistair. “I’ve had this argument with coaches, who say there has to be a certain type of monotony to training, so that you’re almost training your brain too. They see it as a kind of psychological weakness to try to avoid that sort of monotony. My response is that I think it’s a psychological inadequacy to need that monotony, and not to realize that doing exactly the same physiological training has exactly the same benefits without being boring.”

Both love what they do. But how do they find training, racing and, until recently, living together? “I think we’ve been very lucky that, on the whole, us working as a team has been advantageous,” says Alistair. “You want to train with the best people to push you on, so even if he wasn’t my brother it would be fantastic to be able to train like we do.”

But the brotherly affection belies a steely, ruthless streak, as the world saw in the 2016 Olympic race in Rio de Janeiro. Leading the race halfway through the final run, Jonny turned to Alistair and urged him to “relax.” Alistair did anything but, streaking away to win his second Olympic gold. “We work together as a team until we get onto the run. And then it’s every man for himself.”

For Jonny, training alongside his brother every day has been more of a mixed blessing. He speaks warmly about the comfort of lining up alongside his brother on the pontoon at the start of a race, but also reflects on the mental challenge of competing against the best in the world day-in, day-out: “He’s your older brother and he beats you in training, so maybe you go into a race half beaten.”

While they may be considered a pair by their competitors, sponsors and the media, the differences in their personalities become clear throughout our dinner. Alistair, the older brother, is quietly reflective. His approach is rational and hard-headed. At 18, he gave up a place reading medicine at Cambridge University in favor of triathlons, but when asked about the sacrifices he’s made in his life, he seems almost nonplussed: “It’s a choice you have to make to do what you want to do. I’ve never ever had to pore over a decision about seeing friends or doing a family thing – if it’s been for my sport, I’ve always just chosen sport. If you saw it as a sacrifice, you just wouldn’t do it.”

Jonny is bubbly, quicker to laugh and crack jokes, poking fun at his brother’s love of romantic comedies: “Living alone I can do what I want, like watching Leeds Rhinos or Leeds United on telly, rather than sitting getting bored watching Bridget Jones’ Diary and wondering if I should be doing some stretching.”

Living alone, near their parents and each other, the pair recognize the importance of separating training from life, giving themselves time to switch off after a hard day. Jonny says, “It’s something we’ve got wrong in the past. You’ve obviously got your training, but you’ve also got all your commercial stuff on top and you end up being very, very busy.”

The brothers rely on triggers to mark the end of their training day and the beginning of their evening. Alistair: “As an athlete – and it’s the same as a CEO of a company – it could literally never stop. But usually if I sit down and have a glass of wine, that’s the end of the day.”

New challenges are coming in 2017. For the first time in years, they won’t be competing alongside one another. While Jonny continues racing at the Olympic distance in World Series events, Alistair will compete in the longer half-Ironman – a 1.2-mile (1.9 km) swim, a 56-mile (90 km) bike ride, and a 13.1-mile (21.1 km) run.

“Ninety-five percent of our training is still together, we just don’t do as many runs together,” says Alistair. But the change marks a psychological fresh start for both brothers. For Jonny, it’s a big opportunity: “I’m excited, definitely. I hope it gives me chance to win something!”

Alistair will step into the unknown in September, when he expects to compete in his first half-Ironman event. Does he think he can win the longer distance at his first attempt, or is this first run about setting a benchmark?

“Nah, he thinks he can win it!” interjects Jonny.

“I think I can win,” Alistair agrees. “I probably wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t.”

The brothers still have several years of racing ahead, but they have begun to think about life beyond triathlon. Both will seek a second career. For Alistair, that could mean a break from sport. “I’d like to at least try and succeed in something totally different and then come back to sport. I’d never go too far away from it. But I can’t see myself going into coaching.” Jonny talks about growing the Brownlee Foundation, the brothers’ charity that encourages young people across the UK to get into sport. “This year we’re going to have about 5,000 kids doing a triathlon. Hopefully in the future we can get 20 or 30,000. And then I’d also love to have a Leeds United season ticket.”

And with that we call it a night. The brothers, matching puffa jackets back on, stop briefly to say goodnight to the group of girls at the next table before disappearing out into the Leeds night.

It’s past 9 o’clock and they have a hard swim session at 7:45 the next morning.

James Hallam is a Director in Brunswick Insight, specializing in opinion research and stakeholder engagement. Charlie Booth is an Associate with Brunswick. Both are based in London.

Photographs: Alexander Koerner / Bryn Lennon, Getty