Using Stuff

The things I buy need to be used more often. I need to get over this habit of hoarding clothings for the next big event. I enjoy my public transport nomadic lifestyle where I have to sleep in my Patagonia base layer because its all I have left with me that's warm and comfy, I take exception to the idea of hauling jammies around in my paniers when all I'm going to do is sleep in them.

And tomorrow I might wear the top in the office because it's respectable enough and I paid enough for it that it should be worn.

On this theme this morning I used my travelling towel at swimming. It's been in cupboards for 2 years waiting for camping trips and river swimming but to no avail. As the chance of open water swimming is long gone, I realised, nay resolved, that I will use it and when my greatest fear is realised and the chlorine gets to it and it wears out, I can and will, buy another.

28 laps in 17 minutes (limited by the pool closing and not my poor performance - for once).

Stats October 2010

Running: 36.03km, 7.3km/hr, 448m el
Cycling: 373.9km, 19.8km/hr, 4,066m el
Swim: 1.82km 2km/hr avg.

A nervous entry day.

The clocks went back on Saturday night. It didn’t’ bother me on Sunday but on Monday morning at 5am the heating was on and the light was starting to show through the curtains. I lay in bed for a while listening to the clunking of copper pipes and drifting in and out of sleep. Then I remembered it was race entry day and that was it, I couldn’t sleep. The thought of hundreds of people across the UK signing up for MY races got me out of bed and downstairs - first resetting the timer on the heating and then, booting up t’interweb.

I was still exhausted from Sunday’s run but drearily waited for Firefox to start, whilst, as per Sunday night, worrying about the work day ahead. Cancelling my tickets for the christmas party because my employers have suddenly pointed out that I get no sick pay for the first 6 months of employment. This summer has been particularly sickly so I am £700 out of pocket. Having to explain to the administration team that my £25 / day allowance for working in Manchester is to cover pacifying my parents who can’t really afford to feed me, never mind heat the house on my account.

I clicked the links and signed up for the half ironman - the first big race in the season for me. Since when did standard distance triathlons not become “big races”? I don’t know.

My confirmation email came back.

I clicked some more links for the Helvellyn Triathlon. This race is the only standard distance event to occurr in European Triathlon’s “top 10 hardest events in the world“. How can I resist that? I click the “online entry” tab. WHAT? NO? I check my clock. 5:40am. 5:40am!!! How can it be full at 5:40 am?

750 places. 721 entrants. This race is now closed to new entrants. Nooooo!!!! I get discruntled that the places must have gone to previous competitors or the organisers mates (this is very hypocritical of me).

I email the organiser on the off chance that I can squeeze into the last 30 places or take the place of someone who pulls out at the last minute. I eat my breakfast subdued and head to work.

I am cheered up by a man riding the other way wearing yellow and orange where I am dressed in orange and yellow and we cheer eachothers clashy style. I’m one of the first into the office at 8am - which rarely happens and I have the uncomfortable discussion about christmas parties with tears welling in my eyes. I think it might’ve been the cold - or just the frustration that a person who’s sick in the first 6 months should expect to take a pay cut or be in work to vomit on their colleagues and work on the toilet???. Still, bla bla.

To cheer myself up again I log in and check my emails on the off-chance. Amazingly (though thinking about it, not too much so), the website link for the Helvellyn Triathlon was broke, pointing at last years event and now, oh joy! there are only a measly 17 people that managed to get up this morning and beat me to it. I hand over my CC details and away we go. All excited about the next 10 months of hard training. I run around the office announcing my cheered-uppedness to all. Not feeling at all guilty about pulling out of the christmas do (£70) and forking out £55 for a triathlon and a teeshirt instead (yes, this is one tee I want to own).

Satisfied that my (triathlon) work is done for the day, I have a gentle ride home and spend the evening packing for the rest of the week - swimming kit, enough to keep me warm and of course, all loaded on the bike.

Stanage Pole & Headstone run

I felt like doing this run yesterday but instead I made the wise choice to spend some time with TSK and ride to Clumber Park. As a result we enjoyed the full-on autumnal display of the trees and canal tow-path riding.

Today I chose to find my way to the Redmires Reservoir through the fog and run over to Stanage Pole, along Stanage Edge top and back along the bottom with diversions as necessary.

The path from Redmires and Stanage edge itself was eerily quiet as there was no view to be seen and the fog quietened the sound of what few people andcars were about. Every encounter was unexpected as visibility was around 50m. The mountainbikers checking the map, the miserable-looking scout group complete with full 70l backpacks.

The path along the top of Stanage hasn't changed. Hopping from rock to gritstoney worn rock, avoiding the bogs and trying not to scare the stupid sheep off the edge.

Somehow, on the descent I missed the lower path and ended up at the A57 which, weirdly, I didn't expect since I've only every got to Stanage from the Ringinglow Road. I made a poor navigational call with respect to avoiding wet feet (never sensible for a fell-runner) and turned left onto the A57 towards Manchester but then redeemed myself by deciding to take the strines Road, the footpath connecting me to the road above Rivelin Edge then return to Redmires Reservoir via the Headstone - one of Mr Loftus's favourite routes.

The run over to Rivelin Road was truly quiet and I saw no-one. Despite donning my new headtorch for the foggy road, I saw no cars. As I heard the Garmin beep 10km my hips started to ache from the period of tarmac pounding in my fell shoes. I walked a bit and managed to eat until I arrived at the muddy path taking me over to headstone and ultimately, the vanu.

5 minutes scrambling ensued as I did my best to avoid the hoof-trodden bog of the farmyard.

Even an easy passage across the A57 proved what a groggy day it was. At the end of the trudge across the next field and before dropping into the Rivelin Valley, I perched on a wall and photographed the atmospheric trees before resuming the final climb to headstone.
















I can't pass without a visit.









Another shot and an accidental self-portrait.

At the top of my next climb I meet a man on a hybrid bike who is following the water company culvert around the hillside. I decide to take the path over the fells for the last bit of up-down and up again passing ladies in wellies with dogs, cautiously crossing a wooden walkway. Wishing to limit the water ingress to my feet, I ajoin them, also hoping I don't end up on my backside after yesterday's fall.

The final descent to the carpark is a good one. I'm almost tempted to make a circuit of the reservoir just to get a few more miles in my legs but decide that in the conditions, quitting while ahead is a good thing. I have a stretch and climb into the van to get changed. It's a brilliant little space and I love it more when I'm soggy and muddy than I do at any other time.

I head into Sheffield to pick TSK up from the Student Union where he's been to a pedal car AGM and we pig out on the way home. There's Yorkshire parkin in my bag.

Still happy to be home.

238 Days to Go

Day in the Lakes Half Ironman is pending. When I said I was thinking of doing it, Mel corrected me, that I just said it like it was going to happen. She had a point.

Whether I am ready for it or not, 6 months from now, there's nothing I can do to stop myself from entering this Monday morning.

I fell off my bike on my arse today. A reminder of how slippery a metal bridge covering is to wet, 100psi tyres. Only my pride is dented so it's game-on.

I have been riding lovely and carrying heavy bags all week. Probably great for my strength. At least I hope that's why I felt so knackered today and only stayed in the pool long enough to avoid being sick on Friday.

This week I managed to:

• swim 28 lengths in 25 minutes on Friday.
• Today I rode 60 km in nearly 3 hours.
• On Wednesday I ran 12 miles in 2hours 10 minutes.

In 238 days time I want to:

• swim the equivalent of 64 lengths in 38 minutes in very cold water
• Ride 56 miles (90 km) in 3hours 40 minutes including the Kirkstone Pass.
• Run 13 miles (22 km) in 2 hours 20 minutes up some monster fells

All together now.

I don't want to miss out on endurance training so when I travel to Manchester for work three days in a week the kit has to come with me - swimming, towels, running shoes.

The thought of starting the day in the lakes Triathlon and not finishing fills me with dread. I'm trying not to worry about finding the time and dedication to do the training. It has to happen, that's simply it. At least at the moment my motivation is sky high but the dark nights are coming, hours of knocking out miles. An ongoing enthusiasm for long runs. Early mornings going to the pool. Cold open-water swims. A fluctuating workload. All these things could screw me up but my intention not to let them is high. That's me that - all good intentions.

This year I'm going to try not to let illness worry me too much. I can be an unbearable princess about catching colds. This time my aim is to be so strong that I can get through it without too much disruption. Not so precious. Not so fragile.

When I'm not actually physically training, it's the exciting challenge of keeping up with the laundry and the most important yet boring aspects of training - eating and (enjoyably) sleeping - one more hour of that tonight. Whee hee!

Still renewing

The most frustrating cyclo-crosses of the year. Where I feel strong but the muscles just don't have the enthusiasm to continue doing what I'm asking of them. It's supposed to wear off after 3 weeks (this week) but it's stll going. Soon normality will be restored.

I'm going to take them fell running tonight just in case.

Restart

I tried really hard to go out on the club run this Saturday but sheer disorganisation meant I did not make it. It's probably not a bad thing as I was riding really slowly. However, I managed 80km, the rain was falling at times and my feet got cold but I lasted for 3.5 hours and I can't say I was anywhere near exhausted at the end of it.

Roll on racing tomorrow.