normal

A recovery Sunday filled with lie ins and dinner and shopping at b and q.

I cleaned my mtb.

I am ready for a week now.

Evil Sheriff National Cross Duathlon Champs

So today I ran the fastest 5km run ever, rode the fastest mountain bike race I have ever done (with my Garmin on) and did my 4^th fastest ever finishing runs in a multisport event. It is no wonder I am exhausted.

I found myself a place way down the main field in the first run, even though I was puffing to get there, I was still well back.  My heart rate alarm sang out on my wrist, initially to tell me I was going too slow but soon to tell me I was going too fast.  I tried to let it moderate on the flat sections but given a hill – up or down – I couldn’t resist but let rip.  Powering up hills and flying down them is my only competitive advantage amongst the runners and I was determined to make it count.  Saving myself for later wasn't worth losing the few places on the first run and having to weave past those extra people on the bike.

The chap in front of me pointed through the woods to something and, on inspection, I was pleased to see the finishing funnel.  We overshot it a little then turned back into it.  I couldn’t help think that must’ve been fast but didn’t dare check my watch.  I wanted to make transition count. 

I envy the pro’s who make transition look so easy.  For me, time seems to slow down – I can’t get my feet out of or into my shoes.  My helmet goes on wrong.  Little things.  As I ran away I was happy to hear the commentator call that we were 26 minutes in which must mean my run was less than the “I’ll be very happy with that” 25 minutes that I was going for. 

I start the Garmin on the bike and we are away.  A flying mount and quite a few moments of sluggishness on the downhill before my legs have to engage with something solid to ride on.  I am so relieved to have lock-out on my suspension as it makes the forest trails go by so much easier.

However, It’s not long before we get into some fairly gnarly riding and I am impressed by this course.  It’s properly single track in places although there is a bit of space to the sides to weave around people and those that I am passing are good runners but worse bike handlers so they generally let me through.  I am out to make as much time back as possible and I know I have over an hour to do it in.

I reach a short sharp climb off the forest track.  People are already on foot so I join them, happy that I decided to put on my slightly smaller, less comfortable cyclo-cross shoes with mud spikes in the toes. I am faced with a woman lying on the floor still clipped into her bike and two men trying to slither past her.  I follow them to the top of the hill then run past everyone and jump on my bike, pedalling away whilst they sort themselves out.  I don’t see them again.

We’ve been warned of a big lip at the bottom of a long drop and when I find it I approach it cautiously and take a line through a puddle to the side.  I spoing out without any difficulty and set about weaving my way past someone whose chain has ridden over bottom gear and into the wheel. 

It’s the next descent that scares me more and I curse myself for not bringing glasses with me to keep the mud out of my eyes as I go down the thing completely blind.

I try to remember I have to do this loop twice and moderate myself.  I’m cramping in my feet which is either tight shoes or running low on energy foods having decided to wear my rain coat instead of my nutrition-stuffed cycling jersey to stay warm and dry throughout the bike.  I try to consume as much energy drink from my bottle as possible, spitting the mud and grime out.  I supplement this with water from my camelback hoping that at least I’ll not get cramp from dehydration.

We descend a long, straight fire track where a brave marshal waves for us to turn right.  This is the place I discover I don’t have much material left on my brakes and I nearly bowl him over and hit the turn in completely the wrong gear but we make it, still moving, still pedalling and press on past people who have stopped riding or had a mechanical.  We drop out of the woods and back onto the fire road where the first lap concludes with a massive soaking through a huge puddle the width of the course.  It seems to put the foot cramp to sleep.

The second loop seems to go by slower (although it doesn't) as there are less people for me to catch and my legs are used to riding the bike so the effort feels less.  I have to work a bit harder to stay focused although my heart rate alarm has not gone off once – neither too low nor too high.

The water splash is not as smooth this time – I exit it sideways but somehow EmVee keeps my momentum going in roughly the right direction and we stay upright through the climb on the other side (it’s mostly her and nothing to do with me!).  I find a few more people to catch but sadly, these are the ones who are going to pass me back within 10 of the next 15 minutes run to the finish line.

I don’t mind putting my wet shoes back on because my socks are already sodden.  I leave the coat behind because, despite it chucking it down, the run is only 15 minutes and I’m already hot.  I grab a last drink of water at a brief walk so I can actually get some of the cold (actually clean) fluid down my neck then leg it down the forest trail.  

The run hurts.  My legs won’t even respond to a command to go faster when someone passes me so I freewheel as much as I can (the feet are still going around but in no particular controlled way). I don't have the mental capacity to follow my progress through the simple square-shaped run, I am solely focused on my run technique and trying to make the damn thing as fast as possible.  All I am worried about is more people passing me so I am out to run this run as fast as I can. 

If people pass me it’s because they’re superior runners, not because I didn’t pace it right.  Most people pass me on the flat sections and I claw a little back with the uphill and down hill runs but there aren’t nearly enough slopes for me to gain an advantage.   In the end I think two women and two men pass me.  Neither of the women are in my age group. 

To cheer me up and take my mind off the pain, I high fived a few ladies travelling out on their run.  They look happy and relieved to be on the last stage.  I am just hurting and wanting it to be over.  The last 50 m are cruel now as the course has turned into a soggy sodden mush of grass, sapping the energy from every sprint step.  I had no idea what my time was or what barrier I was trying to beat but I wanted to do my best so I opened up with everything I had.  I still merely jogged over the line as I left my last powerful step in one of those puddles.

Final scores on the Garmin: 

Run 1: 5k in 24:40

Mountain bike: 20k in 1:14:00

Run 2: 3.75k in 18:43

Unofficial results posted: 235/328

F: 20/61

F40-44: 5/17

Run 1: 232, 33, 6

Bike: 233, 20, 5

Run 2: 214, 26, 7

Turbo Tedium

8 minute strength sets are not interesting. You can talk through them or stare at the floor. There's little to say about it except I did them in a 14.50 gear. Still it was nice to see everyone.

Friday was a recovery ride to work where I enjoyed riding past Friday MeadowHell traffic and hauling my stuff to work without the car.

I pondered switching my hr alarms to real zones so I can make sure I recover instead of the feisty traffic-induced forays into aerobic training. I enjoy recovery more now I am well. It works and doesn't tire me out because I can do an easy hill.

Still need to check my pace notes for tomorrow.

I find it difficult to think of mtb as a race. Grizedale and Whinlatter were about surviving.  Tomorrow will be shorter and have nowhere near as much climbing so faster. Bring it on.

Moments of Patience

I had a wonderful run yesterday. It was a head torch run after a long day at work. The lichen on the wooden steps in the Rivelin Valley luminescence in the light and moths occasionally bounced off my nose. I saw other head torch runners and bonked on my way home. I felt alive and vulnerable and mostly wobbly then I added a layer and ate food and got home OK.

I slept incredibly well.

Today I mountain biked and rode home the long way. When I managed to escape the roads I watched fire works. It was very special. I will sleep well again tonight. I wish I always felt this calm.

2014 Wakefield Tri club Cyclo-Cross

Well that went well. Obviously better than expected, because I wasn't expecting much. An early start to meet Addam, my Sheffield Triathlon club protege, for his novice race seemed to pay off.

I rode 3 trial laps with him before watching them race then had plenty of time to prep for my own event. The carefully purchased food I left in the fridge at home was replaced with a porridge which went down well and was just enough.  I spent a sizeable time looking for my dad whilst warming up but didn't actually find him until the start line.

I did one more circuit before our race, just to find out how slitherey the course had now become. I got a rocking start, up with Lynn Bland and Kev Saville and managed to lose that placing more gradually than usual. Thanks to a slight over-balance by me, bumping into people as usual, I crossed the timing mat at the end of lap one ahead of Lynn for the first time ever.

I tried to catch the next woman left ahead of me, Sinead, but she made a short distance on me then stayed there, no matter how hard I tried. As I started to tire I kept one eye on the riders behind to make sure I wasn't losing ground then tried a bit harder. I was speeding up past an enthusiastic TSK and Addam was cheering for Trep which made me smile every lap (mostly internally).

I did an excellent job of demonstrating the art of riding sideways right before my new friend, almost - but not quite - losing it on the penultimate lap and the greasiest corner of the race.

I did no better than I did the week before - only comparing to the placings of others but as TSK says, if that was a bad day, I can't complain.

From bad colds, great opportunities rise

Today is the first time I have had a scab on my knee wound. It's tiny. I can now start to believe it might actually heal. I took that good news and spent the morning preparing the bike for tomorrow's race. I couldn't find the source of the squealing noise that accompanied me over the line at Skipton and all feels well. I have even fixed a stiff brake cable, finding a short section of gear outer somewhat restricting flows. Oops, zero engineer points. After my 5am scrap blogging fest fuelled by early onset hangover and nibblings, I got up late and lunched late and got the car ready for carrying bikes again. My only regret was not eating more park in at last night's party. Cue purring with pride at my achievements yet positively in fear of what may come tomorrow. Pain, poor performance and disappointment or strength, efficiency and speed. I really don't know and it's worse than not knowing because I have over-trained. At least then I have failed well. They say improvements require 2 weeks to manifest so by that scale, tomorrow should reap the benefits of 2 days racing at Rapha. We will see and I will try and learn from it. It's a long time since I have been as fit as I was 2 weeks ago. I find out tomorrow how to make the most of it or how to lose it. Serious lesson learning territory.

day 2 of recovery. one way or t'other

A lie in, dental forms, van to garage. Counterproductivity compared to yesterday and a night out to let my hair down or rather, keep it tied up in plaits but there was beer and cake and great company. I am looking forward to a weekend. I lay in bed for a few hours not really enjoying much good sleep then got up to eat fruit. Wondering why I feel most prone to write when I am least capable and have little to say.